#but magic future-reflecting ice is not normal glass!

[fruit-colored-ninja]

Listen I’m sorry but I refuse to believe that the reason cole couldn’t see his reflection was because he’s going to die young. If you guys want to do that you can but I won’t be participating he lives a long and happy life and dies when he’s old and wrinkly trust me :)

[lord-of-christmas-lights]

I swear I have normal Narnia headcanons. However, none of them are featured in this post.

So! If you've been following my series of posts about my Inhuman Narnia AU and the couple of oneshots I posted on ao3 under ASkyOfKai, you've probably noticed that in this little universe I've created, Narnia is sort of...sentient. And I've just realized that I've only actually gone into depth about this on Discord with my friends who are probably very tired of hearing about it. So I'm making y'all suffer through it instead. Welcome to Inhuman Narnia 101, please take your seats because this is going to take a while.

Warning for religious themes, theological discussion, and some dark fantasy/inhuman/body horror concepts that involve blood and physical changes.

BEFORE I SAY ANYTHING: Please keep in mind that an AU is meant to be an alternate universe that may not follow canon information. If anything in this post contradicts canon on the creation of Narnia (it undoubtedly will), pay it no mind, this is an AU. It doesn't have to follow canon.

First off, a little explanation of the Inhuman Narnia AU in general. Basically I came up with this AU after seeing some other people on tumblr post about the Pevensies being not quite human after their time in Narnia. Just eerie, cryptid, a bit of dark fantasy kinda stuff. And I was like, "I'm in love, sign me up, I have ideas." I did not sit down and develop this all at once. The worldbuilding I've done for it has come slowly over the past few weeks through posts, fanfics, and discord rambles. The idea of Narnia being a sentient earth deity of sorts is a recent one and there is already so much to it. (Also I call her Narnia because it's convenient, she has other names but I haven't bothered to like, actually make any up so Narnia is what she's called.)

The most important thing to note starting off is that Narnia is not supposed to be a replacement for Aslan, nor is she necessarily "the hero to his villain". Aslan and I have an interesting relationship, as he is literally God/Jesus/The Holy Spirit/etc and I no longer really identify as Christian. While there are times that Aslan definitely takes a more antagonistic route in my writings, I don't actually see him as a bad guy, nor as a good guy. As God, he literally removed from our concepts of good and evil (in my opinion). The same goes for Narnia being an earth deity. I am a Christian-raised pagan, and I definitely subscribe to the idea that gods and deities are not subject to humanity and our rules. Narnia is not a good goddess, she is not a bad goddess, she simply is a goddess. Plain and simple. The dichotomy that exists between Narnia and Aslan in my writing is generally that of opposing deities, but this isn't a hard and fast rule. There were and still are times when they're friends, working towards the same goals. There are times when Narnia's power is stronger than Aslan's and times when Aslan's power is stronger than hers. There is no simple 1:1 comparison between them.

So, getting into motivations and why Narnia as a deity even exists. Essentially, I asked the question, "How do the Pevensies become inhuman?" and voila earth deity Narnia was born. Now, the basic in-universe mythology I've worked out is that Narnia and Aslan are two deities from separate dimensions that came together to create a new world, the world of Narnia. Aslan is the one who oversees things, he's the one who comes up with the ideas, and he's a little less attached to the world as a whole because he's a Creator, not an earth deity. Narnia is, however, and she literally makes up the world, she sort of runs the entire thing on a physical level, and she is much more attached to it. So she's always kinda taken on this role of making the things in her world the way she wants them. For the most part, she and Aslan designed everything together and they're both happy with it blah blah blah. Well, Aslan then decides to bring a few humans from this other world he's created to Narnia. And she affects them a bit (I've got headcanons about Digory and Polly that I haven't posted anywhere yet but I might soon), but it isn't until Aslan brings the Pevensies over that she really gets to experiment. See, there are other deities in the world that kinda rule over the various lands on a surface level (patron gods for Telmar, the Archenlands, etc, they just have less power than Narnia and Aslan) so she has a little less power over the people in those places, but the country of Narnia is both her land and her so when the Pevensies become the Kings and Queens and live there for 15 years, she's very connected to them. And it's through this connection that she starts to affect them. Honestly, I'm not sure if Narnia even knows what she's doing when she starts stripping away their humanity. I think it's that she can feel they're not from her world and she doesn't like that. She wants them to be a part of her, she wants them to belong in her world just the same as everyone else. (Side note—I know Telmar and some other lands in canon are based on people finding portals and coming through and I'd like to say that she does affect them a bit, takes away a bit of their humanity, but it's not to the same extent as the Kings and Queens of her lands).

"So Kai," you might say, "You keep empathizing that she is literally the land and the land is her. What the hell do you mean by that?" Well, essentially, she is...the...land. Basically if you've read Percy Jackson Heroes of Olympus, there's this idea that Gaia and Tartarus are both physically their domains and able to take on a smaller, human shaped physical form because they're gods and not restricted by human ideas of only having one body. Narnia is the same. Her physical form is both the entire world and whatever smaller shape she might appear in to people. However, we have to acknowledge that their world is differently structurally from ours. There's magic, there's talking animals, and in my Inhuman AU, there is a literal Heart of Narnia at the center. Like a physical, beating, human-shaped heart. Except it's a lot bigger than a regular human heart. Also it's golden. And many many many miles underground. So anyways this is where she's centered. It's basically where her soul is. Probably under Cair Paravel because I just came up with that idea and I love it. And radiating out from it are veins of magic and blood, and these stretch all across the world. Now here is where we get into blood magic and some of those fun terrifying concepts I've come up with.

Narnia has her own blood, of course, but also whenever one of her Kings or Queens bleeds in battle, she kinda pulls it down through the earth into her own heart and veins. It doesn't really do anything to her or them in particular, it's just a fun side effect of them having a patron pagan god. Yes this includes Caspian after he becomes King. Also Peter's blood turns golden because he's the High King, and then later Caspian's does too because I just really like imagery of Ben Barnes bleeding gold. (Side note—when Peter returns to England, his blood goes back to red, but it does remain a brighter red than blood generally is).

Diverting for half a second here. Now, in both my regular Narnia writings and my Inhuman AU, Lucy is very very connected to magic. In my regular Narnia fanfic, she studies with the druids, who are sort of like BBC Merlin's druids. They're just like, chill dudes who run around in camps doing magic and making prophecies and shit. However, in the Inhuman AU, they are a lot darker. One of my favorite ideas with the Inhuman druids and Lucy is that they are so connected to Narnia's magic and her Heart that their hands become stained with blood. Is it their blood, is it Narnia's blood, is it someone else's blood? Idk, don't ask questions. But yea, their hands are permanently stained reddish-brown to almost black. In my regular Narnia stuff, I still like the idea of Lucy's hands being stained and go with just earth magic, dirt stuff for the reason why. But yea no, in the Inhuman AU her hands are stained with blood because of blood magic.

So getting a bit more into how Narnia affects the Pevensies now because I love talking about this lol. She doesn't consciously chose how to change them, though she does call them her creations. Generally the way her magic affects them is by connecting them to to the land in some way and bringing out certain traits they have. So for Peter it's his eyes flickering between regular blue and the amber of a lion's, feathers appearing on his back that grow into wings, having a strength greater than that of a giant's. His blood is golden and on clear nights, the Aurora Borealis in the sky is reflected across his skin. For Susan, her skin glints like glass in the sun and she can briefly glimpse the future. Her wounds are sewn shut with golden rays of light, her eyes are cracked but clear, and she seems to glow faintly in the night, a bit of the sun's radiance shining through her. Edmund has a bit of a star's power lodged in his throat, and can manipulate words, uses them to influence people and their actions. His skin is frostbitten in places, a side effect of ruling the Woods where the White Witch once held so much power, and in some spots his bones shine under the ice that spreads across his skin. Lucy has the stained skin from her stronger connection to magic, and when she speaks words from the Old Language (the one Aslan and Narnia used to shape the world itself), her voice echoes and rasps. Her teeth are too sharp, her smile too wide, and when she disappears underwater, she can stay for hours without surfacing. I want to get into Eustace and Caspian now too but this post is already extremely long and I've still got a bit to cover, so we're just sticking with the Pevensies for now. So yea, Narnia doesn't pick what she does to the Pevensies, she just connects herself to them and through that connection, they change. The magic that she is made of, that Narnia the world operates on, that's what changes them. However, as I stated already, she does call them her creations and feels extremely responsible for them.

Wrapping back around up to the beginning, this is the biggest source of conflict between her and Aslan as of the canon timeline. I like to believe that the lamppost incident was an accident, that Aslan didn't actually mean to send them back at the end of LWW and it was pure coincidence, wrong place wrong time stuff. That being said, it did happen and Narnia really didn't like it happening. The Pevensies did return to their (mostly) human selves in this AU in England, so when they came back in Prince Caspian, she felt disconnected from them again. She reacted to this by digging into them even harder on a spiritual level and essentially speedran them back to being inhuman throughout the timeline of PC, which generally takes place over a few months in my mind. I don't remember how long it was in the book, it's been quite a while since I read them, but it's only like a week in the movie and like eff that, overthrowing a kingdom takes a bit longer in my opinion. Now there are a few divergences here. 1. They all stay at the end of PC and yea that's it, they go back to being Kings and Queens and it's like a second Golden Age but with Caspian there as well. 2. Susan and Peter stay, Lucy and Edmund go back and it's a repeat of the human/inhumanity cycle for them + Eustace in VOTDT and then they stay. 3. Everything happens exactly as it does in canon and it's a constant cycle of humanity/inhumanity with the character's various trips and finally ends at The Last Battle. I like all versions and I tend to leave things a little open to the reader on what exactly happens, or I would if I could actually finish some of my drafts and post them. As you can imagine, Narnia likes 1 the best and 3 the least. She really wants her Kings and Queens to stay and rule her lands and like be awesome and stuff. However, Aslan prefers 3 the best and 1 the least. So again, neither of them is really good nor evil, they just have differing opinions on how the world should be run and what the Pevensie's fates should be. I do tend to side with Narnia, I really like exploring these concepts of inhumanity, but I also really like the concept of a cycle. That's very common in mythology.

So anyways, that's a bit of an overview on earth deity Narnia and her role in my Inhuman AU. If you made it this far, congratulations, and I give you explicit permission to use any of my ideas in your own writing/fanart/whatever, as long as you tag either my tumblr or my ao3 (lord-of-christmas-lights and ASkyOfKai) because I need more Narnia+Inhumanity content in my life. Thanks for reading all this and I'll probably be back very soon with elaboration on Eustace and Caspian's inhumanity!

- Kai

[let-the-dream-begin]

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 25: Riding a Bike

Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Jamie was simultaneously in Heaven and in Hell.

The Heaven part was Claire Beauchamp’s hand laced in his, walking from the parking meter to the restaurant on the water, down port in Port Jefferson. If dinner was as long as he’d planned for, the timing would be perfect for them to be walking around just as the sun was setting so that the colors would dance on her skin, in her curls, in her eyes. She was so much more relaxed than she was on that first date, so much more comfortable in the restaurant this time, one by the name of Old Fields. She loved that they could see the water, loved the flowers and wee plants around them at their outdoor table (he knew she would), loved the string of lights crisscrossing back and forth above their heads. She was illuminated like an angel.

The Hell part was what he’d committed to doing after this.

Not that it would be Hell, not at all. Christ, the thought of giving himself to her that way, the thought of her being his first (and only, if he had anything to say about it, though he couldn’t exactly say that this early without sounding like a nutter), the thought of finally giving in to those urges he’d felt since the first time she’d pressed her body against his in that bloody office…

That too, was Heaven.

But the waiting. The anticipation.

Christ, he was nervous.

He wanted to do it right, wanted to please her, wanted her to like it. He wanted her to like it as much as he already knew he would. He didn’t want to lose his head, or lose it too soon. He’d heard his friends ribbing each other as teenagers, how they’d lost it nearly the second they were inside for their first time. Claire deserved better than that.

Then he remembered she hadn’t been pleasured as such in years, and his throat went dry. He couldn’t disappoint her. He just couldn’t. It was not an option.

“Jamie?”

“Hm?”

He was pulled from his whirling thoughts by that reminder of Heaven, her gentle voice, warm, soft fingertips on his wrist; on his pulse, he realized. He looked up into her face when he realized she was not going to say anything else, and saw her gazing softly at him, eyebrows raised inquisitively.

“You’re very loud without saying a word,” she said.

Jamie chuckled nervously, feeling himself blush. “Aye, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” she tightened her grip on his wrist. “That’s not why I said that.” He wet his lips, nodding. “Are you…nervous? About…later.”

Throat dry, causing pain when he swallowed, he nodded. “Feels foolish, but aye.”

“It’s not.” Her thumb rubbed calming circles over his pulse, and it felt like she was literally soothing his heartbeat back to a steady rhythm. That was her affect, her healing touch, her magic. “It’s normal. I’m…I am, too.” He watched a beautiful blush begin at her sternum and creep its way up her neck and into her face, like watching flowers bloom up and down a vine.

“But I…” she went on, breathing shakily. “I really, really want to, Jamie.”

Jamie thought he might just die.

Her voice was low and husky in a way he’d never heard, and she did not break eye contact. He nodded, his jaw agape.

“Aye,” he somehow managed to stutter. “I…I do, too.”

She brought his fingers to her lips, and he prayed she would not feel how clammy his hand was.

“Worrying about it now won’t change anything that happens later,” she whispered, causing the hairs on his hand and wrist to stand on end, tickled by her breath. “It’ll be okay.”

And though he still felt like he might vomit, or faint, or keel over, he knew she was right.

He tried to focus instead on the menu, on the bread basket in between them, on watching Claire break the bread into pieces before putting it in her mouth, not biting it. He tried to think of those hands, delicately breaking bread, holding surgical equipment, of those fingers tying stitches, stroking the brow of a frightened child on a stretcher. And then the bread was popped between her lips, and he could think of nothing but those lips, doing…well…

The waiter thankfully interrupted that next train of thought, and they each ordered. Jamie ordered the buttermilk fried chicken, which came with cornbread, coleslaw, and french fries, which he swapped for sweet potato fries. He caught a glint in Claire’s eye when he asked for the substitution, and he immediately knew she’d be having quite a few of those fries. Claire ordered butternut squash ravioli, and Jamie smiled as he handed the waiter their menus. He’d have to make that for her sometime; he wasn’t too bad at ravioli and other pasta dishes if he did say so himself.

The more rounds of drinks they got, the more relaxed they both felt, and the more Jamie could look at the lights dancing on Claire’s skin without thinking of the terror of the rest of her skin being bared to him.

Well, not entirely.

It was always there, in the back of his mind, but Claire’s melodic laugh, her pensive gaze as she stared over the water, the way she jumped when the ferry horn blared, and that damned healing touch of hers always pulled him back out of his head. She talked about patients and incidents at work, about Joe saving her sanity nearly once an hour, about Faith’s new habit of laying out every one of her barbies on the coffee table in the morning and leaving them there untouched until it was bedtime, only to repeat the process every morning, about how Faith arranged the furniture in her dollhouse. Jamie talked about his own clients, about how great Faith was doing with Jessica, and he told a particularly long anecdote about his one client with Down Syndrome, Holly.

“I dinna ken what to do about that one,” Jamie said, shaking his head. “She’s making braw progress, just great. Her fine motor is getting so much better, her strength is improving, she communicates great wi’ the horse and wi’ us. But she…Christ, how do I say it…”

“She has a crush on you,” Claire said, putting her chin in her hands and smiling.

“Aye! How d’ye know?”

“I’ve seen her at the events. She’s the sweetest thing, but she’s especially sweet to you,” Claire said, her eyes bright with mirth. “How old is she again?”

“Eleven,” Jamie said. “The problem is, she does so well wi’ me, right? But I dinna ken if it’s just because she’s, well, sweet on me. And is that ethical? For her to progress so well because she’s sweet on a grown man more’n twice her age?”

Claire laughed. “Well, it isn’t your fault. You do what you can for her and you keep it professional. She’ll outgrow it, I’m sure.”

“I’m no’ so sure,” Jamie said. “Doesna help that her mam encourages her.”

“Perhaps she has her own crush and she’s living vicariously through Holly.” Claire took a cheeky sip of wine, and Jamie barked with laughter.

“Shameless, Sassenach.”

“What? It’s quite difficult for a woman to resist someone like you. And good with kids, and animals?” She put down her wine glass. “You’re a dreamboat, darling. I’m quite aware how lucky I am. And I would be even if the other moms weren’t constantly reminding me.”

The thought made Jamie blush; all the mothers ogling at him from where he couldn’t see, telling Claire about said ogling.

Claire suddenly shook her head, mouth and eyes wide with disbelief.

“What?”

“It’s like…you don’t even know.” She rested an arm on the table, leaning her chin in her other hand.

“Dinna ken what?”

She bit her lip, perhaps stifling a laugh, or trying to stop herself from saying it. “I’ll…I’ll tell you later.”

His stomach flipped.

When dinner arrived, Claire did steal quite a few of his sweet potato fries, and he didn’t have it in him to tease her for it. She thoroughly enjoyed her own meal, and he catalogued that knowledge away, along with the knowledge of her love of sweet potato. They skipped dessert, Jamie promising her well-priced ice cream instead.

Said ice cream was obtained at a little shop tucked away at the corner of a narrow pedestrian cobblestone walkway. Claire was completely enamored with every little shop and cafe they passed, remarking how “sweet” or how “darling” everything looked, and Jamie wanted to kiss her senseless.

He ordered moose-tracks, which Claire had apparently never had, and Claire got her usual soft-serve vanilla with rainbow sprinkles on a cone. Jamie gave her a bite of his, and she nodded in approval, saying she might actually get that next time.

Next time.

The thought of an endless future of holding Claire’s hand at sunset with ice cream on her tongue was making him dizzy.

They strolled closer and closer to the water, chatting and eating. Claire insisted Jamie have a lick of her ice cream since she’d tried his, but Jamie was certain she just wanted to watch him make a mess of his face with the quickly melting mess. She got her wish, if that was her intention.

When they reached the beach, Jamie asked Claire to hand him her shoes; the wedges she was wearing were not conducive to walking in the sand. She obliged, and they walked on. They walked along the shoreline, passing groups of young people with grilles, families or couples with dogs. There was even a lone swimmer, stroking valiantly in the near still water.

Claire was looking out over the harbor, at the boats, the birds, the colors in the sky. “This really is so beautiful, Jamie.”

“I’m glad ye like it,” he said. “I used to come here by myself just to think. I come wi’ Toni to get food and people watch. It’s very fine to have you here.”

She bit into her cone, and he smiled, finally giving into the urge to kiss her cheek, even as she chewed.

They eventually found their way to a dock, and they sat on the edge, dangling their feet, Claire’s shoes sitting behind them. The sun was mere minutes from setting now, and Jamie’s heart could have burst. He’d calculated the timing just right; he’d gotten to see all of nature’s glowing colors in various states of sunset reflected on Claire’s skin, her hair, her eyes. He could swear that her eyes literally changed color depending on the color of the light around them. She was truly ethereal, so much so that his stomach settled for the first time all night.

They sat swinging their feet, Claire resting her head on Jamie’s shoulder, Jamie holding her against him. It was perfect. The scent of her was driving him mad, that sweet perfume, lemongrass, and that deep herbal essence that always permeated her, likely from her garden. Then they were kissing, madly and deeply, and someone could have docked their boat right next to them and Jamie wouldn’t have noticed.

——

When Jamie opened the back door of his car to retrieve Claire’s overnight bag for her, she noticed that he wiped his hands on his trousers before actually picking up the bag.

He was sweating.

She wanted to tell him that it was going to be alright, that it was not going to be as terrifying as he dreaded, that she’d be happy no matter how he performed.

Not that she wasn’t thinking about how he would perform.

It was perhaps a bit unfair to place such high expectations on him. He was virginal after all. But God, there was something about him that had Claire convinced that she wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. And she eagerly awaited it.

She’d wanted him, very badly, for a long, long time. Longer than she cared to admit. And she very well might finish at the first contact and then he’d have nothing to worry about.

Before Claire could reveal her horrendously mortifying train of thought, Jamie was unlocking the front door. He lived on the bottom floor of his building, and there were outdoor entrances like there were at her building.

“It’s no’ much,” he said sheepishly, turning on the lights. “Bachelor pad, after all.”

Claire looked around the living room they stepped into, her chest warming. “It’s lovely.”

There was a gray couch facing a not-too-big tellie, a coffee table in the center of a woven blue area rug that matched the tartan blanket draped over the back of the couch. There were burgundy-red throw pillows that matched the red on the tartan.

“Fraser tartan,” Claire said, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. “Right?”

“Aye,” Jamie said eagerly, beaming. “Ye remembered.”

“Remembered?” Claire snorted. “I have been entirely unable to forget the sight.”

She moved on to examine photos on the wall behind the couch, and she saw him blush out of the corner of her eye. She recognized Jenny and Ian from pictures on Jamie’s phone; there were photos from their wedding with Jamie in them, photos of the children, with and without Jamie. There was a photo of three cheesy grins on eager children, two of them redheaded little boys. The one in the middle leaned heavily on his sister and brother, grinning the brightest of all. Willie.

Above them was a photo of them with their parents. Ellen was beautiful. Like a Goddess or an Amazon. Her jawline could cut ice, and her high cheekbones gave way to cat-like eyes.

“You look so much like her,” Claire said softly. She felt him come up closer behind her.

“Thank you.”

She turned to offer him a sad but loving smile, wrapping her arms around his middle and resting her head on his shoulder. Her eyes wandered over Ellen and Brian’s wedding photo, both of them elegant and regal, Brian in his full Fraser regalia, Ellen in a gorgeous, very eighties gown.

“Your family is so beautiful, Jamie.” Claire gave him a squeeze. “Just looking at these I can tell how much love there is between all of you.”

Claire had always wondered what it was like to have family like that. Of course Lamb had been her family, and she loved him endlessly. She always would. But family like this, family to fill a wall with and look at similarities between…she’d never had such a thing. So she always wondered.

“I can’t wait to meet them someday.”

She said it softly, so softly that she might be able to take it back if she needed. But Jamie squeezed her back and kissed the top of her head.

“I canna wait either, mo ghraidh.”

They took off their shoes and moved into the kitchen, the counters empty and spotless save his coffee maker and a blender, quite unlike the ever-present mess in her kitchen. There were white roses in the center of the table, and Claire got the distinct feeling that he didn’t always have such a thing.

“For you, Milady.” He gallantly offered her a rose from the bunch, and she deeply inhaled its fresh scent, looking up at him through her lashes. The whisky came next, and then they were on the couch, glasses in hand, rose tucked behind Claire’s ear. They would go back and forth between talking animatedly, laughing, teasing, and then utter silence, sipping their glasses uncomfortably, sweat pooling at the base of Claire’s back. And probably under her arms. This went on for far too long before Claire decided to say something.

“So — ”

“Listen, I —”

They both snapped their mouths shut, blushing fiercely. They stumbled apologies over each other, but then Claire stopped it all.

“You first,” she insisted.

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “I was ehm…gonna…well…” He ran a hand through his hair, and Claire’s heart strained to see it was trembling. “I dinna ken what to do right about now. I mean, I ken what to do!” he corrected quickly, but he hadn’t needed to. Claire knew what he meant. “It’s just — ”

“No, I know. I know what you mean.” Claire took another sip of her drink. “I don’t…know what’s next either.”

Jamie laughed, a shaky, nervous sound. Claire wanted to take him in her arms and soothe him, kiss away all his fear. Yet she also wanted to pounce him right there, make him spill his whisky all over that beautiful carpet and drag him to the bed and leave it there until morning.

Though that didn’t seem very productive.

“I was going to say that you don’t have to worry about condoms,” Claire said, nodding curtly. “I mean, I know you don’t have anything, and I don’t. Unless you want — ”

He shook his head. “I trust ye.”

Claire nodded. “And well, I’m on the pill. So.”

He nodded thoughtfully, sipping his drink again. She saw the unasked question in his eye. She didn’t need to prove to him that she wasn’t just ready to start sleeping around at any given moment, but she wanted to.

“I took it even before I started having sex,” she explained. “Bad periods. Really bad.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright,” Claire waved it off. “It was convenient when I started having sex. Then Frank wanted kids right after getting married even though I was still in medical school, so I went off it. Went right back on it as soon as I could after Faith was born.”

“Frank wanted kids?”

She saw the regret as soon as he said it, flashing in his eyes like a storm.

“Exactly,” Claire said. “I don’t need to tell you of all people that Faith is my joy and blessing and…everything to me,” she said, her chest aching. “But…I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to even start trying until the age I am now. Pregnancy and infancy during med school was really hard.”

“I canna imagine.” He put a hand on her knee, squeezing. “Ye’re brave, Claire. And strong.”

She smiled weakly. “I didn’t feel like it at the time. I couldn’t even say no to him. Even though I knew why he was doing it.”

He didn’t want to ask, she could tell. He squeezed her knee harder and rubbed his thumb over her kneecap.

“He thought I’d give it up,” she said simply, shrugging. “Being a doctor. If I had children. Thought I’d resign myself to barefoot and pregnant.”

Jamie’s every feature darkened. Claire covered his hand with hers on her knee.

“I’m sorry we got into that tonight. I didn’t mean…at all…”

Unprompted and unexpectedly, Jamie’s lips met hers, harder than they had all night. He pulled away, and Claire felt breathless.

“What was that for…? I didn’t exactly set the mood…” Claire rolled her eyes in admonishment of herself.

“I admire the hell out of you, Sassenach.”

Overwhelmed with affection, Claire kissed him back.

When they pulled apart, Claire took note of the time from the digital clock on the cable box.

“I need to call Gail, get the updates, make sure Faith went down okay,” Claire said, reaching for her phone. Gail and Delia were spending the whole night at the apartment rather than Faith sleeping at their house; Claire had been worried that Faith would panic if nighttime routine was not at home.

“Do you want to…” Claire put her drink down on the coffee table as she pulled out her phone. “Meet me in the bedroom?”

She thought he might drop his drink; she almost jerked her hand forward to catch it.

“Ah — yes, aye, that’s fine,” he stammered. He set his glass down beside hers and stood up. “I’ll just…do that.”

She covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. If she hadn't already had three overtly sexual encounters with this man, these interactions would convince her that she was in for a rough night.

Gail gave a glowing report for Faith’s behavior and informed Claire that she and Delia were fast asleep, Delia in her sleeping bag next to Faith’s bed. Claire thanked her for the millionth time in just that one phone call, and then she hung up. She suddenly got the urge to wipe her palms on her dress. Now she was sweaty.

Christ.

She took a deep breath, in the nose, and out the mouth.

It’s just sex, Beauchamp. It’s like riding a bike.

Just sex…

It couldn’t ever be just sex with someone like Jamie. Not when she was his first, not when she felt…the way she did about him.

Christ.

She forced herself off the couch, swaying only slightly when she stood, and not from the alcohol.

She made sure she was breathing as she headed in the direction that Jamie had gone and into the room. His head popped up from his task. He was turning down the comforter, having already put the throw pillows on the floor in the corner.

“Yer bag is on the dresser,” he gestured to the dresser where there was, indeed, her overnight bag. She briefly wondered if she’d even bother sleeping in pajamas, then the image of her naked body pressed tightly against his seared her mind, and she thought she might fall over.

“Faith alright?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, she’s asleep, Gail said she was great. Stubborn about dinner, wanted to eat Delia’s food instead of her own, but Gail was able to get it straightened.”

Please, do keep drawling on about your five year old while Jamie Fucking Fraser turns down his bed to fuck you in.

“Good, glad to hear it.” He flashed her a grin, then straightened up. “The bathroom is an ensuite. Right through there.” He gestured, and Claire nodded in acknowledgement.

Then there they stood, six feet apart from one another, no excuses left. Jamie wiped his palms on his pants, and Claire fought the urge to do the same on her dress. It was yellow, another high-low dress with flowing cap sleeves. How she hadn’t managed to sweat through it yet was beyond her.

Jamie took a step forward, hesitantly. “I’d like to kiss ye now, Sassenach. If that’s alright.”

Claire inhaled on a gasp, then exhaled tremulously. She nodded without words, taking her own step forward.

Like riding a bike.

He closed the gap between them, cupping her face sweetly.

Like riding a bike with someone that makes your heart feel like it’s going to explode from  beneath your sternum.

He dipped down and kissed her, gentle as ever. In the back of her mind, in a place that she wished would shut up, she prayed that he wouldn’t be that gentle all night.

She could feel the sweat on his palms that he’d tried so desperately to be rid of, clammy on her face, but she focused instead on the feel of his lips, on the gentle probing of his tongue, mingling with hers. Her hands had been resting absently on his chest, but she snaked them up now, wrapping them around his neck. She wanted to be closer, needed to be. Her heartbeat was erratic, and she wanted to feel his thrumming in desperate time with hers, right up against her.

His hands moved too, threading through her hair, tugging gently so he could tip her back for better access. She sighed with contentment, smiling against him and reaching her hands under his collar to scratch his neck. He groaned as she raked her nails down, tugging harder on her hair. She’d apparently unleashed something, because he redoubled his efforts, flipping them around so he could push her to the bed. They crashed down together, and before Claire could blink, Jamie was lying perpendicular to the headboard, legs dangling off the bed, and she was hovering over him, kissing him senseless.

Something that had been simmering in her all night began rising, steaming. If she was sweaty before, she was melting now. She ran her hands all over his chest, his arms; he peppered kisses all over her neck and collarbones and even the swell of her breasts. His hands alternated between running up and down her back and squeezing her arse over her dress. She needed more. Nerves were gone, and she was ready to throw a leg over him and straddle him now. Hell, if she finished fully clothed she could still be ready for more. She moaned loudly as Jamie bit her bottom lip, sinking her nails into his neck. She was about to throw her leg over him, but then he abruptly sat up, digging his own nails into her shoulders and clawing down her arms, no doubt leaving already fading streaks of red. Claire began kissing his neck, biting, nibbling, licking, then —

“What were ye gonna say?”

She barely registered that he’d even talked. She picked up her head and looked at him blearily, her chest heaving.

“What…?”

“At dinner…when ye said, ‘I’ll yell ye later’…”

“Oh.” It came flooding back, the way he’d looked when she mentioned all the mothers lusting after him, what that look did to her.

She smiled widely at him, at first genuine and sweet, and then it morphed into something wickeder. No, she would not straddle him just yet.

She slowly, torturously slowly, ran her tongue along his bottom lip, and then nipped at it with her teeth. “You don’t even know…” She trailed her fingers down his neck, stopping at the buttons of his shirt to start undoing them. “How God damn,” another button, “bloody,” another button, “beautiful you are.” She pushed the fabric of his shirt apart, four buttons open now, and kissed his sternum. “How…” another button, another kiss, “fucking…” another button, another kiss, “hot you are, Jamie.”

His shirt was entirely undone now, and she yanked it out of his pants and over his shoulders. She moaned in appreciation of his body, beautiful indeed, sculpted from fine marble. She ran her hands down his chest, his stomach, then back up.

“God, Jamie…” She was completely breathless, and he was barely even touching her. “The first time I saw these muscles, under that wet t-shirt…I was ready to bloody have you on that counter.”

He growled then, finally moving, capturing her lips with his with an aggression she didn’t know he was capable of. She whimpered in surprised appreciation, running her hands back up his perfect torso to thread her arms around his neck as his snaked around her waist.

“Christ, Sassenach,” Jamie groaned, kissing her neck fiercely. “I wanted ye…I wanted ye so badly that day I could scarcely breathe…”

She laughed, a throaty, wanton sound. “I know you did…” She ran a hand down the planes of his torso again and then walked her fingers down, down, down…until Jamie cried out, jerking into her hand. “I could feel it.” She palmed him gently over his pants, and Jamie sounded like he was choking on something. Claire chuckled darkly and continued kissing him sloppily as she rubbed him, becoming less and less gentle.

“What did you do?” she panted, nibbling his earlobe. “That day? What did you do with…this?” She gave a particularly hard squeeze, and he cried out again against her neck, latching his teeth there, and she whimpered.

“I…” She felt him swallow, hard. “I tried not to, Sassenach, I didna…” He hissed; she did not stop touching him, “want to dishonor ye.”

“Tell me, Jamie,” she breathed. “And I’ll tell you what I did.”

He let out a soft moan at that, a beautiful, endlessly endearing sound. “Oh, Christ…” His voice was gravelly in a way that made Claire’s stomach turn to liquid. “I…I took myself in my hand, and I…” Claire was unable to suppress a moan at the thought of her sweet, shy lad touching himself for her. “I imagined this. Only it’s…” He kissed her deeply, lapping at her mouth with his tongue like he was desperately hungry. “It’s better than I could ever imagine.”

And we’re just getting started, my lad.

Claire kissed him back, finally letting her hand leave him so she could grasp both of his shoulders. “I…” she panted. “God, I touched myself too, Jamie.” She pushed his shoulders down. “I couldn’t help it.” She straddled him, and he hissed at the contact, gripping her hips. God, he felt huge under her like this, and it sent a shudder through her entire body at the thought of taking him inside her.

“Then I…” She braced herself on his shoulders and began rocking her hips, just as she’d done that night. “I did this, on a…a pillow.” She laughed through the words, even as she ground down harder on him. “And I imagined this.”

His grip on her hips tightened, and his hands moved under her dress, under her underwear to grab the flesh of her arse. She groaned as he dug his fingers into that flesh, continuing to seek her pleasure with her thrusts.

Not enough. More. More.

Claire stilled her hips and removed her hands from his shoulders so she could find the edge of her dress. Jamie’s grip on her arse became impossibly tighter; his whole body seemed to freeze up and stiffen beneath her. She smirked, feeling herself flush at the thought of letting him see her. And then the dress was off and discarded, leaving her in the lacy white matching set she’d worn just for the occasion. He raked his eyes over her frantically, as if he didn’t know where to look, where to settle his gaze. His eyes were practically bugging out of his head, and he looked like he might lose consciousness. Claire flipped her hair to one side and leaned down to kiss him, gently gripping both sides of his face. She did not move her hips again, just kissed him gently, sweetly.

It’s okay. Take your time.

After a few lingering, deep kisses, Jamie finally moved his hands away from her arse and up the length of her back, bracing her against him. He flipped her onto her back and began peppering kisses on her neck, the crook of her shoulder, her jawline, all while sculpting his fingertips over the length of her collarbones. Claire kept her fingers threaded through his curls, tugging gently on occasion. He latched onto that spot, just above her collarbone where her neck began, and Claire cried out, the pooling heat within her rising to a boiling point. His hand snaked down the length of her torso, sliding over her bra, her waist, then resting on the small of her back. She felt his lips curl into a smile against her skin, and he softly kissed the spot he'd just assaulted, before trailing his tongue up the length of her neck and her jawline before finally coming home to her mouth.

She moaned greedily into his mouth, sucking hard on his tongue, combining it with hers. She moved her hands to the sides of his face, as if to pull him impossibly closer. He kissed her urgently, and she could feel the hard proof of his arousal on her thigh, but his hands remained still. Picking up on his shyness, Claire removed a hand from his face and took hold of the hand that was still stationary on the small of her back. He either didn't notice or didn't care, far too occupied with devouring her lips and tongue, tasting her teeth. She brought his hand back up the length of her torso, stopping on the left cup of her bra. She flattened his hand and firmly pressed his palm into the soft flesh.

He stopped kissing her then, and she felt him grow even harder, if that were even possible. He looked into her eyes, the bright blue almost gone, darkened with desire. His lips were hanging open in aroused shock, and the sight of them, swollen and red from her own assault made her squirm.

She gave him a wicked grin and pressed his hand harder onto her breast, groaning through her teeth, her jaw jutting forward. Despite how obvious it was that this was enjoyable for her, and him for that matter, Jamie still hesitated to squeeze on his own, floundering when her hand left his.

"Jamie..." She somehow found enough breath to pant out his name. "Touch me, Jamie, please."

Jamie gulped, and she watched as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, having to bite her lip to stifle the moan it elicited from her. God, everything he did made her simply melt.

He repositioned himself slightly so that he could bring a second hand, trembling like mad, to her other, neglected breast. He took them in his hands with bated breath, and the sight of him, in awe of her like this was nearly enough to make her come without any stimulation at all. He ran his thumbs back and forth over the lacy material of her bra, and she groaned at the contact to her nipples, even through the fabric.

Still, he was hesitant.

"Don't be gentle," she blurted out, unable to stop herself. "Touch me, Jamie. Please."

Something finally seemed to click; something unleashed from within him. His hands roughly squeezed her breasts, and Claire arched her back as a strangled cry ripped through her.

"Yes, Jamie..." He reached one of his hands under the cup, and she gasped at the flesh-on-flesh contact. "Yes..."

Like a man possessed, he tugged at the straps of her bra, and without even thinking twice, she slipped her arms out of the straps as he reached underneath her to unhook it. Claire couldn't help but giggle; his fingers were practically vibrating with how fiercely he trembled; it took him far longer than it should have for him to unhook the bloody thing.

When he finally succeeded, and her breasts were free, she sighed with contentment. He unceremoniously discarded it behind him and returned to his former position, fueled even further by the full sight of them now. She swore she heard him growl as he took hold of her breasts again, and Claire moaned at the sensation. He kneaded roughly, pushing them together and apart, trapping her nipples between his fingers. He dipped his head to kiss her sternum, and Claire blushed, knowing full well there was a pool of sweat gathered there. He didn't seem to mind, however, as his lips and tongue devoured her there, and then trailed kisses up the mound of her breast.

Claire gasped raggedly as his lips latched onto the nipple, kissing it over and over before firmly sucking and circling his tongue around it rapidly, all while still kneading the other breast. Claire was becoming feral: her hands were pushing into his head with a force that was surely uncomfortable for him, her heavy panting had quickly morphed into repeated, loud keening noises, and she was bucking her hips into thin air. She briefly wondered if it was possible to come just from this, with her lower extremities completely untouched. She certainly felt like it was possible.

Evidently, she'd never get to find out.

He switched his mouth to her other breast and trailed his hand, flat, down the expanse of her stomach, and Claire groaned in anticipation of the oncoming sensation. He slid his hand over her underwear and palmed her, his hand completely covering the entire surface area. Claire moaned loudly; his hand was so warm and large, the heat pressing into her almost made her come undone on its own. Noticing how enthusiastically she responded to this, Jamie kept his hand flat and large as he could on her, kneading and squeezing almost like he had done to her breasts, only gentler. She rolled her hips, keening incessantly as he carried on. After a while, he slowed his hand to a stop and kept his fingers still, then began grinding the heel of his hand into her, pressing directly into that bundle of nerves that had so been craving his touch.

She loudly cried out at the sensation, but he only let it last briefly. He had other plans. All the while, his mouth had not left her breast, kissing the skin, the nipple, licking, sucking. Now, his mouth hovered over hers as his fingers tantalizingly teased the top of her underwear. He inched them underneath, slowly, so fucking slowly.

"Please, Jamie," she cried out, not even having the mental capacity to consider how wanton she sounded.

He chuckled against her mouth, kissing her hard again. She groaned into him as his fingers teased her entrance to gather her natural lubricant, and he chuckled again, his chest rumbling.

He's laughing at how you're dripping wet already, you sex-fiend.

Not wasting any more time, he began rubbing, up and down, side to side, circling…

“Jamie…Jamie…fuck…”

Claire was completely lost.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, her back completely arched, her fingers threaded in his hair again. He knew exactly when he spent too long in a certain spot, and he moved, he knew exactly when he needed to slow down, when he needed to speed up. He was watching her face intently, listening to her body, and of course to those noises.

Claire had no concept of how loud she was being now; she couldn't even hear herself anymore. The only thing she could hear was his panting in her ear, the purring in his throat, the chuckling growls in his chest. The world narrowed down to his fingers, taking up a pace with a quickness she had never felt before. Every breath she inhaled was a ragged gasp, every breath she released was a tortured moan.

Jamie latched teeth onto her nipple, and she was undone.

She came with a ferocity she hadn’t thought possible, her mouth hanging open, as screams, practically sobs, erupted from her.

His fingers slowed, gently stroking her down from her high. She was seeing stars as he kissed her lips again, and she kissed him back with a fervor she didn’t even know she could muster after the numbing orgasm he’d just given her. She kissed him until she was sure she would faint, only pulling away to ensure she didn’t drop dead for lack of air. She panted heavily, her walls still clenching inside her, her thighs still twitching. His hand left her, gently stroking up and down her ribcage. He was grinning down at her like a fool, clearly quite pleased with himself.

“Where the bloody hell did you learn how to do that?” Claire panted, her eyes hardly able to focus her vision.

He smirked at her, cocking an eyebrow. “I said I was a virgin, Sassenach.” He chuckled lightly and kissed her again. “No’ a monk.”

Claire shook her head in disbelief, completely dumbfounded. Would he ever cease to amaze her?

“Was it really all that good?”

She could tell that he was trying to play it off as a joke, attempting sarcasm, playing up his cockiness. But she could see right through it, could tell that he needed the reassurance from her verbally.

To answer him, Claire firmly took hold of both sides of his face and kissed him hard. When she pulled away she looked into his eyes, whispering: “Unbelievable.”

His grin widened again, and he kissed her back, threading his fingers through her hair. They pulled apart again and settled in to lay down, facing each other, foreheads pressed together.

“Ye’re beautiful when ye fall apart, Claire,” he whispered reverently, pushing a stray curl out of her sweaty face. 

She felt her face get hot, but not from arousal this time. “Really…? I found myself resembling nothing short of a wanton slut.”

She’d meant it as a joke, and looked at him as such, smiling sheepishly. But his eyes had darkened again, and his face was almost gravely serious.

“No, Sassenach,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “Ye’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Watching ye in the throes of yer passion is…is beyond description, Claire. I dinna want to ever forget it.”

Claire felt tears stinging her eyes, and she felt ridiculous. Am I really about to cry because my boyfriend thinks I’m pretty when I come…?

But it wasn’t as simple as that. Not really.

The truth of his words, the depth of their meaning sank in, and Claire felt her heart being pulled to his. She was unable to stop herself from kissing him again, overcome with tenderness. The kiss gradually deepened, and it wasn’t long before Claire found herself burning, wanting again. She moved her hands down the expanse of his bare chest as he continued kissing her, stopping at his hips, where his pants began. She tugged on his belt until she got it undone, and Jamie smirked against her lips as she pulled it through the belt loops, discarding it over her shoulder.

“You…” she breathed out between kisses. “Are wearing…” She undid his fly. “Far too much clothing.”

He growled in response, deepening the kiss even as he tugged on his slacks, breaking away only to get them over his knees and heels, finally kicking them onto the floor. He laid back down beside her again, thrusting his tongue back into her mouth with an urgency that made her moan. His hardness was pressing firmly into her as they continued their exploration of each other’s mouths, and Claire found herself unable to resist rocking her hips against him. He mirrored her actions, grinding against her thigh. Claire draped her leg over his hips to increase her own friction, and slid her other thigh between both of his to increase friction for him, pressing the top of her thigh into his erection.

He let out a shuddering groan, a sound that sent heat shooting to her center. They began madly rocking together, their lips never leaving one another’s. Claire groaned and grunted as she fought to maintain a steady rhythm that stimulated her just right on him, the ever-present reminder of his arousal on her thigh driving her mad. Jamie was panting and groaning, his thrusts becoming frantic.

“Claire…” Jamie choked out, finally releasing her mouth. “I canna…I’m gonnae…”

“No.” Claire immediately stopped rocking. “Not like this.”

Every vein in his face was popping out, and he was dripping with sweat. Claire unthreaded herself from him and tugged on his briefs, and he obliged, sitting up and sliding them all the way off. Claire gasped raggedly as he was unsheathed. She’d guessed the relative size of him through clothing far earlier in their friendship than she’d have liked to admit, but to fully see it was another matter entirely.

She had to have him. Now.

She sat up, reached out and grabbed him, and he cried out. She squeezed and stroked oh-so-gently, not wanting to accidentally set him off this way, but wanting very badly to feel him in her hands first. He let his head fall backward, his mouth stuck open, his eyes looking up to the ceiling.

“Christ, Sassenach…” he hissed.

Claire chuckled softly, enjoying her turn to have power over him. “Are you ready, Jamie?

Ready for me to take your virginity?

The thought sent another jet of heat to her center, and she felt herself growing impossibly wet.

“Are you?” he asked.

She smirked and made a show of removing her underwear, exposing that arse that she knew he adored, wiggling them down torturously slowly. She could feel her own wetness trailing down her thigh without the barrier to stop it from doing so. When they were finally discarded, she rose up on her knees and took his hand in hers, bringing it between her legs. They both gasped, she from the sensation, and he from the arousal of feeling how ready she really was.

Claire held his hand there, letting him soak in the moment. She looked him directly in the eye. “What do you think?” she said breathily.

He growled again and kissed her hungrily, both of them kneeling in the center of the bed.

Yes, they were both quite ready.

They kissed and kissed and kissed, and Claire didn’t even notice that Jamie was gradually, gently, pushing her back. She sat back and untucked her legs from beneath her, spreading them, until she was laying on the pillows, Jamie braced above her. Jamie stared into her face, eyes wide, mouth agape. Claire had to stifle the urge to laugh. But God, was he beautiful.

“I…” he stammered. “I’m sorry if I…”

Claire silenced him with a kiss, gripping both sides of his face. “It’s alright.” She kissed him again, dragging her teeth along his bottom lip until it popped out. “Do what you must.”

Jamie let out a shuddering groan that had Claire arching her back, raising her hips for him. He took hold of himself, lining himself up. Claire could feel him, grazing every inch of sensitive flesh that he’d already given his attentions to, and then he was there, right against her.

Do it, Jamie. God, do it!

She wanted to scream.

Instead, she took in the question in his eyes, the bob of his Adam’s apple, still holding his face, and she nodded.

Then she did scream, or something akin to it at least. It was loud, whatever it was.

Her first thought was that she’d never been so completely filled by any other man she’d slept with. Her second thought was that that was a horrible thought to have. Her third thought was that she didn’t give a fuck.

He wasn’t moving; he was just staring at her with his hands braced on either side of her head. Claire was still catching her breath from his initial thrust, and she realized embarrassingly that she was white-knuckling the poor lad’s face. She eased her grip and brought his face down to hers, kissing him, swirling her tongue with his. She rose her hips up, thrusting against him herself, then he took the hint, beginning to move. Claire keened against his lips as he stirred inside her, and then she cried out again when he pulled back and slammed back in. Jamie made his own noise, choked and strangled. God, he was so fucking endearing, even as he hammered inside her.

He gave another thrust, and then he set a rhythm. Claire threaded an arm around his neck, pressing his head into the crook of her neck. He clearly didn’t have the brain capacity to do anything there but breathe, but that was enough. His panting, hot breath on her skin and his noises directly in her ear were a lovely sensation. With her other hand, she reached down to take purchase on his arse, smooth and firm. She held onto it as if for dear life, as if she could push him even deeper into her if she tried.

After not long at all, he began to speed up, and Claire knew he wouldn’t last much longer. She also knew she was going to die if she didn’t finish with him inside her. So she removed her hand from his arse and brought it between them, rubbing herself relentlessly. Eventually, she thought to herself, she’d bring his hand there while they fucked. For now, the lad could barely keep himself from crushing her. She didn’t blame him.

A new surge of pleasure coursed through her, an electric height only achieved by combining both pleasure points on her body, heightened further still when one was far larger than a few fingers. Claire’s moaning was unrestrained now; every thrust elicited yet another high-pitched cry. She tightened her arm around his neck, threading her fingers in his thick red curls. He began moaning against her skin with every breath, and Claire increased the pace of her fingers.

So close.

And then Jamie yelled against her, biting down on her shoulder. His body went rigid, freezing inside her. She felt the familiar warm rush of his seed filling her, and she kept rubbing herself.

“Jamie!”

A plea, a demand…it was anyone’s guess.

Whether he knew what she meant or not, he gave one final thrust, and it was enough. She screamed again, louder than she had all night, clenching tightly around him, yanking her hand away from herself out of pure overstimulation and then braced her hand on his arse again, squeezing tightly.

He remained still as she continued to grasp him tightly, pulse around him, spasm her hips erratically, shivering. He’d collapsed onto his elbows, and sweat dripped from his hair onto her forehead, disappearing into her own hair. They were both gasping for air, panting desperately against each other’s skin. Claire could taste her own sweat on her upper lip, could see and feel the sheen of sweat all over his body as well as hers. For a moment they stayed like that, panting and gasping, and then Jamie collapsed to the right, surely unable to hold himself up anymore. He slid out of her, collapsing onto his back, still breathing heavily.

Claire stared at the ceiling for a moment, feeling far too much like jell-o to be able to move, but before long, she missed his warmth above her, around her. She flopped over onto her stomach, landing bodily on his chest. The sound it made was rather horrid, and Claire snorted. Jamie had no reaction, and Claire propped her head on her hands atop his chest. She found him with his eyes closed, seemingly asleep.

“Don’t die on me now,” she said.

Jamie groaned unintelligibly, his eyes still closed.

“Well,” Claire said haughtily, folding her arms over his chest and laying her head on them. “At least you didn’t die a virgin.”

A loud slap filled the air, followed by a sharp sting, simultaneous with a loud shriek. Claire jolted, sitting up.

“You little bastard!”

Jamie was literally howling with laughter.

“I’m sorry lass!” he wheezed. “I didna realize it would be so loud!”

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!” she cried, swatting at his arm. Both of them had done this while they were fully clothed, teasing. But evidently, Jamie had never smacked a naked arse before. Which would make sense.

She erupted into giggles right with him, collapsing onto his chest again, where he readily wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head.

“Oh, Christ…” He was still laughing, rubbing her back.

“That’s what you get for almost falling asleep on me!” Claire said, still sputtering herself.

They calmed themselves down, still teasing and shuddering with laughter, Jamie rocking her in his arms unintentionally. They quieted, and a sense of contentment filled the air.

“Ye…ye liked it, then?”

Claire was unable to stifle another laugh. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny…” She giggled again, then kissed his sternum. “I did. I did like it, Jamie. A lot.”

She could feel as well as hear his sigh of relief, his chest deflating, taking her with it. He kissed her head again. “So did I, Sassenach.”

She picked her head up, resting her chin on her hands again. “Was it like you thought it would be?”

Jamie grinned crookedly, and Claire was shocked by her desire to kiss every inch of that mouth, so soon after. “Better.”

She was unable to stop herself then, kissing him soundly. He kissed back with equal fervor until they were both breathless. Then he pulled away, and Claire looked at him questioningly.

“Would ye…” He gulped, blinking. “Maybe…would ye want to do it again?”

Claire cocked a brow at him, smiling wickedly and maintaining eye contact as her hand traveled further down until she found him, already hard.

“Hm,” she hummed, impressed. “Ready already.”

Before he could push her into the pillows again, she threw a leg over his hips to straddle him. She leaned down to kiss him, and he raked his nails down her back, then kneaded her arse roughly. She could feel a hot rush, and then he chuckled darkly.

“So are you.”

Proving him right, she lowered herself onto him with effortless ease, and Jamie’s face looked like he might explode in this new position. She sighed with ecstasy, biting her lip. God, he felt good.

“For the record,” Claire began before she could stop herself. “I didn’t…hate it.”

His brow furrowed, gulping, trying to maintain focus while he was inside her. “What…?”

She took one of his hands, previously kneading her breasts, and brought it down to her arse. Hard. Loud.

Jamie’s eyes blew impossibly wide, his mouth falling open. Claire almost regretted it, almost felt like a slut bringing a kink, even a mild one, into the equation on the first night. But then his eyes darkened, and he smacked the other side of her arse with his free hand, and she let out a gasp that ended with a groan. Claire bit her lip, smiling wickedly down at him.

“Fast learner.”

[whosemorales]

A Moment In Time Pt 1

The Room Of Requirement was, in Harry’s opinion, one of the most magical rooms in all of Hogwarts.

Harry had been in there since lunch and he still wasn’t bored he was more curious than anything. The Room Of Requirement never failed to amaze him, one minute you’d be looking at an old painting and the next you’d have a face full of Cornish pixies. It was unpleasant at the least, but the shock that came with it never failed to wake Harry up just that little bit more, and these days that feeling was more welcome than one would expect. With Umbridge’s unrelenting chokehold on the school, it was nice to disappear for a few hours, to have all the responsibility and weight of the world’s expectations lifted off his shoulders and to just feel like a normal kid. Of course, I’m anything but normal, Harry thought bitterly.

He was the boy who lived. The boy who cheated death, the boy who would save everyone from a war that he wished to have no part of, a war that in just one night had taken everything from him, one single night that had doomed the rest of his life to a miserable reminder of all the love ones he’d lost, all the love and joy he’d been deprived of. But now he felt selfish because he wasn’t the only one who had lost everything.

Sometimes Harry wished that he could be selfish, he wished that he could morn all the things he’d missed out on without having to think about all the other people that had also suffered during the war, and god how that sounded awful now that he thought about it, but another part of him told him that it was ok not care sometimes, that it was ok to just focus on his misery and not have to deal with everyone else’s, that for those few quiet hours at night it was ok to think bitterly about how Ron had a family, and more specifically a mother and fathers love that every now and then, Harry felt Ron took for granted. Harry knew that he had things that other people didn’t, fame, glory, but god how quickly he would give it all away to just be held in his parents’ arms. To feel their love for him radiating off them and enveloping him, the kind of love they spoke about in books, the kind of love that didn’t need to be spoken but the kind that could be transferred in something as simple as a hug, to feel all the warmth and happiness that Harry deeply wished he’d had to keep him safe from all the worlds problems and for them to just hold each other and nothing else.

But even with all the magic that surrounded Harry, bringing back his parents was something that it was not powerful enough to do.

Harry wandered around aimlessly, running his fingers along the dust-covered furniture, his eyes were roaming over all the piles upon piles of junk. Although, to whoever put their stuff here, it was probably something special, something they wanted to leave behind for future generations. Maybe there’s even something from my dad in here. That thought had Harry’s eyes scanning over everything at twice the speed, he looked under things, inside piles of junk and even climbed a few structures, but after a while, his shoulders slumped. He had no idea what he was even looking for, he didn’t know his Dad long enough to know what he liked or what he might have put in here, he didn’t even know if his Dad had found this place, it wasn’t on the Marauders Map. Then again he didn’t even know his Dad.

Harry let out a breath, this was not how he thought his day would go. Suddenly, The Room Of Requirement had turned into another painful reminder, he didn’t want to be here anymore, didn’t want to look at another forgotten object, another memory of happier times, a time for all Harry knew was the same time as his Mum and Dad. Now Harry was running, he felt sick and dizzy, but the more he ran the more apparent it became that he’d been in here longer than he thought and in that time had wandered deeper into the room than he’d ever been. Now the one place he wanted to leave was the one place he couldn’t. He stopped running, he needed to calm down, panicking wasn’t going to help him. Taking a deep breath he tried to focus on his breathing and heart rate, the last thing he needed was to have a panic attack in the one place that no one could find. Image the paper; The Boy Who Lived has died due to a panic attack because the stupid idiot couldn’t find his way out of a fucking room.

He never used to get panic attacks, but now he got them at least twice a week. Not that anyone knew, letting people know that he was that weak that he couldn’t even control his own breathing was not something that was going to help. Taking in one last deep breath, Harry opened his eyes and looked around, none of this looked familiar, but that was an easy fix, he just had to retrace his steps and he’d be out before he knew it. Right?

Going back the way he had come Harry’s eyes scanned over everything, looking for something familiar, the green couches that he had brushed the dust off, the weird-looking table that was covered in ropes, hell even the pixie’s nest would be a welcome sight. Instead, Harry’s eyes caught his reflection in an old-looking mirror that was leaning against a pile of chairs and other various objects. It kind of looked like the Mirror Of Erised as it was curved at the top and rectangular at the bottom, just smaller. The curve side of the mirror was an old rusted looking gold with letters carved into it, leaning forward Harry brushed his fingers over the dusted that coated them to get a better look, but once he’d brushed off the curved edges he realised that it was pointless. The words looked to be in some other language, one that Harry knew for certain that he didn’t know, not that he knew any other languages anyway.

Eerht fo tnuoc eht ni ereht uoy ekat llahs I dna eb ot ekil tsom uoy erehw tuoba kniht.

Deciding to ignore the writing, Harry moved back to get a better look at himself. His hair was a mess and he looked slightly sweaty, but the sight of himself made his heart hurt even more, he looked almost exactly like his Dad.

Earlier in the year, Sirius had given Harry some photos of his Dad, and even though there wasn’t many there was one particular photo that Harry kept coming back to time and time again. The photo in question was one of the Marauders on the quidditch pitch, according to Sirius it was their 5th year and they had just won the match against Slytherin. Both Sirius and his Dad were wearing their Quidditch uniforms whilst Remus was wearing a knitted sweater with his Gryffindor scarf around his neck and a book under his arm, Peter was clearly the one taking the picture as he wasn’t in it. Harry was never more thankful that magical pictures moved than when he would look at this one. His Dad was standing on the left, with Sirius in the middle and Remus on the right, Sirius had his arm around his Dads shoulders as they both gave the camera their biggest smiles, whilst Sirius’ other arm was wrapped around Remus’ waist, and even though he was clearly trying to look angry about being dragged into the photo, Remus’ face broke out into a wide smile and a laugh when Sirius turned and give him a kiss just under his ear. Harry’s favourite part however was when his Dad’s head turned to look at someone outside the frame, his face breaks into a warm smile and something in his eyes changes, the camera then pans to see what his Dad is looking at and it lands on his mum laughing and joking around with three other girls, the camera stays there for a second before quickly turning back to the three boys, Sirius is nudging his Dads side with a teasing smirk and after another second his Dads gaze turns away from his mum and back to Sirius, who he shoves playfully knocking him into Remus who just rolls his eyes and laughs at them.

Looking into the Mirror Harry wished more than anything in the world that he could have gotten to know them, wished that he could have gotten to see his Dads face light up whenever his Mum came into the room or had his Dad teach him how to ride his first real broom, wished he could have stood beside his Mum and helped decorate cookies for Christmas whilst he quicky dipped his finger into the icing to have a taste when she wasn’t looking, he wished he could have helped Sirius pull pranks on his Dad by turning his hair red or making his glasses float away as he tried to catch them, he wished that he could’ve sat next to Remus on the couch tucked into his side as he read one of his many stories to him or got Remus’ help in secretly crafting a prank to get them all back, he wished he could’ve had a family.

Leaning forward again, Harry went to brush the small flakes of dust that had fallen onto the Mirror, but just as his hand reached the mirror the glass seemed to vanish and Harry fell straight through. The whole world around Harry went dark for a few seconds before he fell back out of the mirror. Harry laid on the ground, his head spinning as his senses tried to get a grasp of what had happened. When he felt like he could stand without falling over, he slowly stood up and looked around. Everything looked the same, except for a few missing pictures and something else that he couldn’t quite place. Turning back to get a better look at the mirror Harry’s confusion deepened, it was gone, all that stood behind Harry was a pile of chairs and other bits of furniture. Harry shook his head, this place was messing with his mind, he really needed to leave now, looking around to see which way seemed best Harry followed his gut and went left. Sooner than Harry would have thought he was at the door he’d been looking for for a little over what must have been at least half an hour. Harry was hit with a wave of relief that time seemed to stop whilst he was in The Room Of Requirement, meaning that even though he had been gone for at least 3 hours, to the people outside the room it would be like no time had passed, meaning that he didn’t have to get a lecture from his friends each time he disappeared.

Pushing the doors open Harry walked out and waited for it to disappear again before he set off back to the Gryffindor Tower. Even though he had made his way out of the room, Harry still had a weird feeling in his gut that he couldn’t quite place, and the atmosphere around him seemed different, but that was probably just because he had been in The Room Of Requirement since lunch. Finally making his way to the portrait hole, Harry’s energy seemed to dissipate, maybe he’d have a quick nap before dinner.

Looking at the Fat Lady Harry sighed. “FlobberWorm.”

The Fat Lady’s face morphed into horror as the words left his lips, “I beg your pardon?!”

Harry frowned. “FlobberWorm,” he repeated the password.

The Fat Lady scowled at him. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re being extremely rude young man.”

I Don’t know who you are, the words rang through Harry’s head, was this some kind of joke?

“What do you mean you don’t know who I am, I’ve been-” Harry’s words were cut off as the portrait hole swung open, he quickly moved back so he didn’t get hit. Out came two young Gryffindors who looked to be in their third year, but that didn’t stop the alarm that rang through his head, he had no idea who these kids were, he’d certainly never seen them before, but it was probably nothing, Harry wasn’t the most perceptive person after all.

The third years gave Harry a strange look before moving off to wherever they were going. Harry quickly moved forward to try and get in but the Fat Lady quickly shut the portrait denying him the chance.

“Ah ah ah,” she tuttered, still glaring at him. “That’s enough of this foolishness, now off to dinner.”

Harry gave her an exasperated look before turning on his heel and making his way to the great hall. Walking down the corridors Harry felt a strange shiver go down his back, each corridor and staircase he came to was empty and something still didn’t feel right, but everyone was probably at dinner, and his weird feeling was probably just because he was hungry. Turing down the last corridor before the Great Hall, Harry was hit with a wave of chatter and the delicious smell of food. Ron better not have eaten all the chicken wings. Harry picked up the pace hoping to at least get two before they were all gone, rounding the corner into the Great Hall Harry’s stomach lurched and his feet became frozen on the spot.

His eyes scanned over every table and every visible face, he didn’t recognise anyone. His eyes quickly darted to the teacher’s table, Snape was missing along with a few others, but the ones that Harry knew looked younger. Something really wasn’t right. The sick and dizzy feeling that he’d had in The Room Of Requirement rushed over him once again, but this time it was a thousand times worse, his breathing quickened and his feet seemed to become unfrozen. A few heads had turned to look at him having noticed his presence, each one wearing the same identical frown. Harry walked backwards a few paces before turning around and running. But right as he turned around he smashed into someone, effectively knocking both of them to the ground.

Harry quickly picked up his glasses. “Oh god! I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-” The words died on his tongue as the person he’d knocked over came into focus.

His breath caught in his throat and his heart stopped as they both locked eyes. They stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Harry couldn’t blink, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. She had his eyes, or more accurately he had hers. The world seemed to stop spinning as realisation hit him. That was his mother.

“Evans!” A voice rang out just behind Harry and his mother hesitantly turned her head, allowing Harry to breathe for the first time in what felt like forever. But as the person came into view Harry felt like he had been submerged under ice-cold water.

The boy held out a hand for his mother to grab and tried to hide his clear shock when she grabbed it and got up but still didn’t let go, her other hand reached over and grabbed onto his upper arm as though she needed to steady herself, but her gaze wasn’t on him it was focused on Harry.

Frowning at her the boy turned to him and Harry felt like he was dying. The air in his lungs had been completely sucked out as he looked at the boy, as he looked at what anyone would have said was a clone, as he looked at his Dad.

[inkribbon796]

In their Place Ch. 3

Chapter 3: A Shattered Reflection

Summary: Illinois and Eric rejoin with the group as Damien’s condition persists.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

While the fight with Dark had been going on, Illinois was busy taking the hero’s bait and circling around Eric.

“Well, well, what’s a cute thing like you doing in a dangerous place like this?” Illinois smiled at Eric. “Ooohhh, dulcito,[1] this suit looks amazing on your calves. Tell me who made it, so I can commission them to make more.”

“Logic and Bing,” Eric was blushing under his mask.

“Well! I know where my next paycheck is disappearing off to,” Illinois decided, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a pair of Jims racing over with a camera. “Well let’s put on a little show for the cameras, hero.”

Eric startled and looked at the camera. Illinois didn’t even give him time to be embarrassed because he dove right for him and began a fight that was half wrestling, half throwing magic that if it hit Eric was mostly a light show; and all a show for the camera.

Both Illinois and Eric were having fun playing it up for the cameras when Illinois’s heat physically lifted off his head and Illinois caught the little bronze star inside it glowing a violent dark purple and kept trying to tug the hat in a direction. The direction that Dark had flown off to fight the heroes.

“Let’s lose the paparazzi, dulcito,” Illinois told Eric. “My old man needs some help.”

“Ills, wait,” Eric told him before Illinois produced a couple smoke bombs and dropped them around them. He scooped Eric up into his arms and ran off with him. Both of them disappeared into the smoke.

The heroes had finally relocated outside the ruined building, taking Damien and the chair with them.

Marvin was pacing and trying to come up with a new idea. Silver was floating nearby with a new mask, courtesy of Marvin. Jackie standing to him, talking. Patton was sitting on the ground next to Damien. And the mayor had an ice pack to his chest and a cigarette in his mouth.

Damien had a lot to think through, he was apparently in the future, he’d been running around with a demon. His father would have killed him if he was still alive.

He needed to finish his cigarette, go home and take a nap.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out,” Patton tried to reassure Damien helpfully. The mayor rolled his eyes. He’d been told the hero next to him was named “Captain Morality” and along with not being an absolute asshole had given him the ice pack. So Damien was pretty sure that out of the three he was currently Damien’s favorite.

Then Marvin stopped and looked at two people running over. “Shite! Illinois’s comin’ in hot.”[2]

“Where is he? What did you fuckers do?”

“Ills.”

The arguing was giving Damien a migraine, he couldn’t deal with more new people. He was still sore from the apparently failed exorcism. Or maybe it was successful, he’d never even been allowed to see one to tell.

“Slow yer[3] roll casanova,” Marvin ordered.

Rolling his eyes, curiosity got the better of him, and he looked back to see someone standing next to Marc. He was the only one not masked and he looked younger than Marc. Damien looked at the dark hair, the light tan complexion, the way his eyes narrowed and brows furrowed when he was clearly angry and thought: “Is he Celine’s?”

With that one thought Damien decided he was done with this charade and wanted to go home. He wanted to go home and lock himself in his basement, and get so completely lost in whiskey He couldn’t remember who he was anymore.

Damien could still feel the phantom hand of his father on his shoulder. The man had only been dead a couple of years — at least to Damien, now it was a couple decades at least — but his threats and orders still weighed on his soul.

It seems he’d been mentally gone so long that he’d missed another of Celine’s children, and probably countless more.

Damien shakily got up from his chair and started to turn away, clutching his cigarette like a lifeline. The ice pack left on the chair.

I don’t want you to even look at that child, his father had ordered. It’s bad enough you’ll be related, but I can’t have another null in the family. You—

“아빠”[4] The young man was coming to stand in front of Damien.

The mayor instinctively flinched away, looking back and expecting Marc to come over and pull his son away.

“I’m not,” Damien started, more confused. “I can’t—”

“아빠[4] are you okay?” The young man asked, clearly worried.

“I,” Damien faltered, his mind trying to push down the hope. “Marc!”

Illinois startled and tracked Dark’s eyes to Silver, glaring at him in absolute rage, “Ex-fucking-cuse you?”

Mark held up his hands, “I’ve told him ten times now, I’m not whichever Mark he’s thinking of.”

“We’ll deal with this later,” Illinois decided, then turned to Dark. “Alright, what happened?”

As Illinois had been talking, Damien was having a minor meltdown. Illinois saw the look on his face and his expression and tone softened considerably.

“It’s me,” the young man tried to urge. “Illinois?”

When he saw a continued look of confusion, Illinois realized that Dark wasn’t hurt, he was having an episode. “Oh no, we need to get you home.”

“Yer not goin’ anywhere,”[5] Marvin ordered.

“Fuck off, Copperfield,” Illinois pulled out a piece of chalk and drew open a portal. Dark flinched away from it.

“Come on, dad,” Illinois held out his hand, halfway through the portal.

Almost as if the Manor was sensing a problem it extended out and pulled Illinois, Damien, and the heroes into the Manor and the portal winked closed.

“Ughhh, you’re gonna be pissed when you come to again,” Illinois realized as he saw the other heroes, pulling Eric closer to him.

“Great,” Damien looked around, recognizing the Barnum estate. “You should have just left me there, it was closer to my place than here.”

“No, we live here,” Illinois clarified.

“Yes you live here but I don’t,” Damien snapped back up as he started for the door.

Just as he hit the foyer, Damien stopped at the large portrait hanging on the wall. It had previously sat in the Manor’s living room office, hidden and tucked away in the most private corner for Dark to look at. Since the portrait had been updated the demon had been convinced to bring it out into the main entrance hall.

The sight of it froze Damien dead in his tracks because neither Marc nor Celine were in the picture. Illinois was there but so were four other young men, one young lady, and two individuals that Damien thought looked familiar but couldn’t recognize.

Along the black frame frame in golden colored letters read the name: “BARNUM-DOOM” which completely halted Damien enough for Illinois to catch up.

“I think you need to lie down for a bit,” Illinois tried to offer.

“Where— Who—” Damien tried to place why the one with the curly mustache looked so familiar. Then Damien really looked at the man’s wide toothy smile and everything clicked.

It was Wil’s smile.

Damien’s hands trembled as he reached out to touch the picture, treating it so delicately as if the image would change to a different man.

“아빠?”[4] Illinois walked over, seeing the tears starting to fall from Damien’s face.

“Is,” Damien’s throat felt like it was clogged. “Is this your father?”

“You’re our father too,” Illinois reminded him.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Damien, he looked like he’d been completely frozen in place.

“We’re adopted,” Illinois told him, then corrected, “well most of us, Bim is yours by blood.”

“I can’t have children,” Damien’s response was quiet, almost a whisper.

“You guys did it with magic,” Illinois lied, mostly because explaining to Damien how cloning worked when Illinois barely understood it himself and the mayor would just be here for an hour at most seemed like a bad idea.

“Oh,” Damien replied, looking back at the picture. “That’s me with him?”

“Yes,” Illinois answered.

Damien fought the feeling that his throat was unbearably tight and he gave the only response he could: taking a step towards Illinois and wrapping his arms around him.

Illinois flinched a bit in surprise because normally Dark was not a hug-person, he avoided touch. The young man’s only thought was that Damien felt ice cold. But he ignored that thought, his father needed him.

“He did come back.” Damien was shaking as he held onto Illinois. “He came back and gave you to me.”

Illinois gave a sad smile as he hugged him back. “I’m here.”

Eventually, Damien pulled away, looking back at the portrait with a huge, excited smile, “Six? That’s amazing.”

Illinois looked back at the family portrait, and smiled. They’d had to force King and Yancy back into suits to take it. Illinois pointed to each of them. “That’s Host, there’s me, Kaylor or “Kay” for short, Yancy, Yan, and Bim.”

Damien’s hands traced over the bandages on Host’s face. “What happened?”

“He had a bit of an accident,” Illinois explained carefully. “He’s blind but his magic helps him navigate around.”

“The poor thing,” Damien looked around, “is he here?”

“No, he lives with his boyfriend but he’ll probably turn up,” Illinois told him. “He has a way of doing that.”

“Bim, Yan, and I are the only ones who still live here,” Illinois explained. “The others have moved out.”

At that Damien looked emotionally crushed, “Oh, I guess you are adults.”

Illinois looked back into the other room where the heroes were all awkwardly watching, Illinois and Damien blocking them from leaving through the front door. The young man needed to completely defuse the situation. “Damien” needed to go to bed and he needed to kick everyone but Eric out.

So Illinois took a deep, quiet breath and decided to tackle it one problem at a time. Step one: isolate Eric from the other heroes.

“Before we lose the plot,” Illinois began to gently steer Damien towards Eric who looked nervous. “Sweetheart, he already knows your face, you can lose the mask.”

“Oh,” Eric realized and quickly pulled it off and put his glasses back on. “Hi, Mr. Dark.”

“Uhhh,” Damien looked a bit uncomfortable.

“아빠[4] this is Eric, he’s my fiancé,” Illinois reintroduced. “We’re getting married in September.”

“Aren’t you a little sweetheart,” Damien smiled at Eric.

Eric smiled back nervously, his smile getting bigger as Illinois came over to wrap his arm around him.

“He’s amazing,” Illinois smiled lovingly at Eric who blushed and ducked his head at the compliment.

Illinois began herding Eric and Dark to the nearest couch, talking about wedding plans and Damien seemed to get more excited.

He turned to the four heroes, and opened his mouth to start the process of ushering the unwanted intruders out of his home.

But another voice cut through the air.

“Are we having a party?” Wilford’s slurred drawl cut through the air like a bullet. “Been ages since we’ve had company.”

The adventurer looked to see his other father walking in from the kitchen and Illinois only had one thought in his mind: “Fuck!”

Wil chuckled as he walked over to throw his arm around Illinois, “Sorry my boy, did I interrupt a good ol’ fashioned joke?”

Illinois heard his phone go off and looked to see that almost all of his siblings had tried to contact him. “Dammit!”

Damien stared up at Wil from his seat on the couch and unseen a metaphorical fuse was lit. But for now Damien was so happy. “Wil?”

“Mhmm?” Wil looked over at Damien. “Yes my sweet licorice?”

Illinois answered his phone, it was too late to quietly whisk Damien safely away so he had to run damage control, “Yeah, King, just saw your texts.”

Damien let out a choked sound and came from around the couch to run at Wil and wrap his arms around him.

Wil returned the hug and chuckled, “My, someone’s cuddly today.”

“I thought you’d forgotten about me,” Damien clung onto his partner.

“Never for long,” Wilford chuckled as he picked Damien up, his arms bracing the other man like a seat. “I am here now my Darkling, don’t you worry about a thing.”

Mark was a bit surprised by the look of complete adoration on Damien’s face.

“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?” Damien smiled, resting his forehead against Wil’s. “You are.”

“Is anyone dead?” Bim walked out of the kitchen. Then he froze at the three heroes, “The flying fuck are you doing in my house.”

“We’re having a party,” Wil announced.

“The fuck we are,” Bim spat and looked at Damien, who was still in Wil’s arms, “are you serious?”

“I—” Damien started.

“You know what, have fun, I’m heading somewhere else,” Bim decided, not even letting Damien finish. He used his hand to cut through the air with his aura and made a portal large enough for him to walk through. It snapped closed after him.

Damien looked like he’d been stabbed as he glanced at the spot Bim had just been in. He glanced at Wil, “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no,” Wil was very quick to reassure. “He’s just in a mood is all.”

“Bim’s a brat,” Illinois announced loudly, briefly pulled away from his conversation with King

“Fuck you Ills!” Bim’s voice came from upstairs.

Illinois laughed, “Talk to you later Kay.” Then he hung up and pocketed his phone.

“Dad, why don’t you go get some drinks?” Illinois offered to Wil.

“Oh, of course, how rude of me,” Wil chuckled, setting Damien down who tried to follow Wil.

“Do you need any help?” Damien asked.

Wil gave Damien a quick peck on the cheek, “I know my way around a liquor cabinet, just go enjoy yourself, my dear.”

“If you insist,” Damien smiled and went back to the couch.

He looked back at the living room and had an odd flash of recognition, the faces of the people in the room briefly flashing to different guests he couldn’t quite remember.

As if something was dreadfully familiar.

“You okay?” Patton asked, immediately picking up on the tense air around Damien.

“I just,” Damien began but was distracted by some pictures on the mantle. Pictures of what looked like a happy and lovely family. One he couldn’t remember because a demon had been walking around in his body.

Giving him everything he had ever wanted and more.

“A demon is supposed to ruin your life, not make it infinitely better,” Damien said.

“Well that’s great fer yah,”[6] Jackie chimed in. “But he’s made our lives a livin’ hell.”[7]

“Don’t,” Illinois placed himself protectively in front of Damien.

“Don’t what?” Mark felt indignant fury come over him. “Don’t tell him that he let a demon crawl around in his skin and strangle the life out of my town.”

“Now I—” Damien tried to defend himself as Mark lightly pushed Marvin out of the way.

“Or how about the fact that Dark let Logic almost get tortured and killed by the guy who just walked through here,” Mark argued, turning to Patton. “Or did you forget.”

“I didn’t forget, I just—” Patton spoke up but Silver was so angry.

“Wil’s a mass murdering nut job,” Mark reminded.

“Wil is many things,” Damien argued back, “he might be an eccentric but he’s not a murdered.”

“He is and Dark has been letting him fly off the handle and kill people whenever he wants!” Silver shouted. He pointed to Illinois, “You’re a thief. Bim’s a cannibalistic psychopath.”

“You’re lying!” Damien tried to push around Illinois to punch Mark in the face, but Illinois held him back. Rage and anger boiling from a part of Damien’s soul he couldn’t control.  “Wil would never! You should know better, he’s your own brother! You’re just jealous that Celine left you for him!”

The instant those words left Damien’s mouth the fuse hit the end of its line and the memories came flooding back. The awful memories that left Damien dead and hollow.

In the wake of the mayor’s words the room went deadly silent. As if a bomb had gone off in the room.

“You,” Damien choked out as a dull ringing echo slowly seeped back into the room and the colors slowly started to fade. Recognition flared in his eyes, and slowly the black bruises on his neck came back and were getting darker and more necrotic-looking. “You stole everything from me.”

The look in Damien’s eyes was one of such hatred that Mark could physically feel it.

Illinois felt an aura push him out of the way. Damien let out an enraged scream and lunged at Mark.

Mark threw his hands up to protect his face, and began floating so he could get away but the hit never came. When he looked back Damien seemed trapped by some force as he screamed and tried to struggle. All too soon his screams began to get weaker and his skin began to turn grey.

Damien stiffened and Dark looked up.

“Get out of my house,” Dark growled and four was a gust of wind before Patton, Mark, Jackie, and Marvin were all tossed outside the front door.

Illinois and Eric were left in the living room as the house went back to normal.

“You can stay,” Dark told Eric who looked nervous. “You have a new suit I see, it certainly seems better than the old cloth one you had.”

“Uh, thanks,” Eric stammered nervously.

Wilford walked out with a tray of drinks, all of them swirling with his aura. The Host quietly, as his narrations would allow, followed behind him. He looked around the room. “Huh, didn’t we have company?”

Dark walked over and kissed him on the cheek, “That was last week, Wil.”

“Oh, silly me,” Wil chuckled and a portal opened for him to practically throw the tray into and dusted off his hands. “You know time, she plays hard to get.”

Illinois stomped over to stand next to the Host, glaring at his older brother, “Why didn’t you help?”

“Illinois will see that events are better this way,” the Host explained. “Besides, the Host helped stall Warfstache in the kitchen while Dark’s blue soul was losing himself.”

“You’re a real asshole sometimes, you know that right?” Illinois glared at him.

“The Host has been told,” the Host smiled and took a seat on the couch.

As the two young men spoke, Dark took the opportunity to portal to the front steps of the Manor and saw the four heroes still there.

“I thought I told the three of you to leave?” Dark reminded.

“I was so close!” Marvin shouted.

“How’s Damien?” Patton asked, everyone just letting Marvin rant off to the side.

“Screaming in eternal torment, as he usually does,” Dark told him, watching Patton flinch in sympathetic pain.

Dark’s expression softened, “As I hate being on anyone’s debt, expect me to pay back the favor shortly.”

“But I didn’t really do anything,” Patton reminded.

“Damien’s dead isn’t he?” Silver asked, that got Marvin’s attention immediately.

“Ahh, the matter of you,” Dark smiled. “By the reaction you had to Damien calling you “Mark” I can conclude that is also your name? You’re lucky that I’m not as blinded by rage that I can’t tell that you have a different face.”

“You saw that?” Silver asked.

“Of course I was watching, I was trying to get Damien back on his leash,” Dark snapped. “Do you know how long it takes to get him to do anything? He’ll be throwing one of his fits for the next month!”

Dark groaned and after cracking his neck twice, her form changed to look like her red soul. Marvin stared at her in realization. “There, at least he fell back asleep. He was resting peacefully before you four showed up.”

“They’re both dead, aren’t they?” Marvin thought out loud. “That’s why the spells never worked.”

Dark looked at Marvin. “Damien as a person is dead and shattered into pieces. He’s more like a wild animal than a person. He feels things, and occasionally can string errant thoughts, but the nice docile mayor you all desperately have been trying to reach is gone.”

“Is there—” Patton began, still trying to be helpful, and reminding Dark a bit of Damien’s old naivety in the process.

“No,” Dark began massaging her temples. “No, you’re all decades too late to help. Just let him rest. In about a week he would have been fine, but now that you’ve woken him up early that might not be the case. Just go and never bother me about this again.”

With that Dark turned to walk into a portal, the huge gate doors to the property opened. It took a while for the heroes to finally leave. Marvin heading off first and Patton lingering behind, as if he wanted to knock on the door and try to offer to help again.

Eventually the fronts were left cold and vacant, the gate doors swinging back closed and locking behind the heroes.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations

1. “sweetie” in Spanish

2. Shit! Illinois’s coming in hot.

3. your

4. “Dad” in Korean, under informally. Phonetically read as: “appa”

5. You’re not going anywhere

6. Well that’s great for you

7. But he’s made our lives a living hell.

[emerald-amidst-gold]

*kicks door in* Did I hear OTP asks?? Is it a chance to be nosy about the dragon and his wolf that I sniff in the air?? *dumps box full of questions on the floor*

Who has the most nightmares and how do they deal with them?

Thoughts on each other’s family?

Who has awful taste in music?

And

The most important question: Who can rap better?

💖

*jumps up from the couch and gasps* Nosy?! Oh, friend! You can be nosy all you want because you couldn't be nosy when faced with a wolf and a dragon who act like lovestuck fools?! >:D

Who as the most nightmares and how do they deal with them?

Eheh, I can safely say that both and Solas and Fane are pretty equal when it comes to the amount of nightmares that they each harbor. Fane's nightmares are just more...volatile due to how tangible they get. Solas, I believe, is so used to enduring his own that he's able to conceal just how unnerved they make him, but there would be moments where he'd split.

Fane usually deals with his nightmares by reaffirming solidity to his teetering mind. He searches for shapes (squares, circles, rectangles, triangles, etc.), and he'll rip open his balcony windows to literally gulp in as much frigid air as he can muster. He does the latter to try and stave of either a panic attack or a bout of retching. Sometimes it works, but most times, Fane can't stop his stomach from expelling what's inside. His nightmares do die down in intensity once he and Solas start to share quarters, but the first several weeks are...rough.

---

“Nightmares?”, Solas’ voice finally came in a murmur, tone laced with sleep even as stormy, moonlit orbs shone with awareness and gentle sympathy.

Fane grimaced a bit before nodding. “...Yeah.”, he said after a bit of hesitation, shifting his gaze away as the sight of more concern made him even more tired. Why couldn’t he get through one night without an interruption or seeing the sky reflect sorrow and guilt? “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

The command was brusque, mildly clipped and he cringed a bit as he heard his own tone echo. He needed to sleep, damn it! He knew he was being harsh, being childish, but he couldn’t take everything that was going on right now. In short terms, he was overwhelmed and for once, he didn’t know how to mitigate what was flowing through him! He never knew how to control this blighted form! He never knew anything beyond whining and--

More shifting of the covers had Fane’s ears twitching and sticking a wedge between his thoughts and the spiral they wished to delve into, but not turning his gaze back, keeping it glued out the frosty windows. Maybe the sight of ice and snow would help get his mind to shut. up. Not likely, but it was worth a shot at this point. Anything was worth a shot. Anything, anything, any--!

“Vhenan.” A gentle call, one used for moments like this and one that once again pulled his mind back from the edge, but Fane still kept his gaze turned, beginning to trace shapes along the stained glass of the upper windows. Maybe his ritual would work if he kept trying. He just had to keep trying. Try, try, try!

“Why are there always so many squares?”, Fane asked rhetorically and with a dry air, eyes slowly darting along jagged patterns and equally as jagged lines. “I should change the design. Maybe the Qunari one?” He sneered a bit. “...No. That one has more squares. I’m tired of squares.” The word for exhaustion made his eyelids feel dry and unfathomably heavy, but they still wouldn’t close. He really wished they would close. Why wouldn’t they close?! Why wouldn’t his mind be sil--!

“Fane.” Another call, this one more firm, but still just as well meaning as a warm hand came up to touch his cheek, beckoning him to look back at the sky. “Look at me, ma’isenatha.” A light stroke of fingers against his jawline made Fane shiver, even as his body rose in temperature.

“No.”, Fane said, even as he subconsciously leaned towards his beacon of comfort and warmth, the palm softly coming to cup his cheek. “Just go back to sleep, Solas.”, he practically begged, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good.

Solas was as stubborn as he was clever, and more prone to worry than Fane was in regards to the other. They often butted heads due to their collective protectiveness, each arguing that the other needed to be more concerned about themselves whether in battle or not, but grudges were never held once they explained the situation or what made them panic so severely. Knowing that, Fane wanted to look to the sky, he did, but yet, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t bear to see more worry. Not right now. However, another warm sensation, not from a hand, against his cheek had him almost abandoning his squares. He was so, so childish…

“Ma’isenatha..”, Solas murmured against where he had placed a kiss upon his cheek, gentle concern making a normally smooth voice somehow smoother. “Talk to me.” A plea with a double meaning that had Fane sighing.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Solas.”, Fane muttered, gaze shifting downwards to the floor. “It wasn’t that bad. I didn’t puke, I didn’t tear from bed like a madman, but I can’t sleep. End of story.” The dismissal curt, but sufficient. For him, anyway.

---

This is a little snippet kind of showcasing how Fane deals with his nightmares when Solas is around. This is kind of early on, when they just start sharing quarters, so Fane is highly dismissive, but only because he doesn't want to keep worrying Solas about things that he thinks doesn't matter. *bonks the dragon on the head*

I think Solas would be very much the same way in terms of dismissing, but would be more likely to cave when faced with the fact that Fane understands. Cue crying!Solas because the world needs more of it! >:3 Fane would definitely offer Solas a sanctuary, opening his arms and silently waiting to see if the mage would take it. If Solas does opt to seek shelter, then Fane wouldn't utter a word, knowing that he can't say anything that man hasn't said to himself. Really, all Fane does is reassure Soals that he isn't alone.

Thoughts on each other's family?

Sooo...does the Evanuris count as family for Solas? I like to kind of think they do in some capacity! As such, Fane fucking despises them! Especially Elgar'nan! :D

Elgar'nan: "So this is a mighty white dragon? How disappointing."

*Fane slams his massive tail upon the palace floors, shattering the marble and crystal with a hard expression*

Solas: "And now?"

Yeah, fuck that guy! :D Seriously though, Fane's feelings towards Elgar'nan are...justified. I mean, his feelings towards all of the Evanuris are justified, but Elgar'nan was the one that made Fane leave his sky. *smiles*

Solas and Mhairi start of a bit...rocky. Mhairi tries to reach out, tries to connect with him due to being highly intrigued by his knowledge of the Fade and the elves, but since Solas is...Solas, he does the whole, 'Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you would wish to regale me with luminous tales of the elves. You are Dalish.' Solas actually tried that line on Fane and Fane just goes, '...Presumably. Who knows?'

But back to Mhairi and Solas! Mhairi and Solas eventually warm up to each other after Adamant, around the same time Fane and Solas become an item, and he begins to teach her how to control her magic a bit better. There's actually a mini short story I want to write that shows a huge development between Solas and Mhairi where he literally becomes another brother to her. Get caught by templars and having to think of clever ways to survive and use your magic without getting silenced would endow two mages to grow close. You get me? Especially when one becomes extremely terrified from the mere sight of the Templar insignia due to a traumatic incident where they were silenced. *smiles again*

Solas ends up caring for Mhairi very much, as much as Fane does actually. And obviously, Fane is extremely happy by that. Even if betrayal is in the future, it's nice to see his sky take every moment of joy that he can.

As for Fane's father... *laughs nervously* I'll just say this: a wolf's bite is worse than their bark. I'll let you envision that because fuck does Solas want to let the beast within take hold and tear until there's naught but bones left. It'll be the one time that the Dread Wolf comes out to hunt, to kill. And if I play the 'power couple' card? *sips teas delicately* Then I'll play it in earnest. >:3

Who has awful taste in music?

I think both Fane and Solas are fairly good about choosing music! They both lived during the time of Elvhenan, so gentle cadences and calming refrains would only make them both long for what they lost. Fane enjoys Maryden's songs, too! He'll stand up with Cole in the tavern and listen to them with the spirit, humming each note under his breath since he'd be a fool to try and sing.

Also, Fane can actually coax a melody or two from Leliana if she isn't too closed up. Solas ends up giving his dragon a tiny, tender smile when he comes waltzing down the stairs with a look and smirk that asks, "How'd you enjoy that show? Pretty good, hm?"

...They are such dorks. I'm awful. *cackles*

Who can rap better?

*stares at this question like the pikachu meme*

I...honestly don't know, to be honest! X'D Like if I had to really, really choose I would say Solas because the man already speaks in iambic pentameter, so he's got a flow going already! PFFFT! I know it's not anywhere close to the same thing, but it's all I can think of to justify why! X'D

Fane isn't...wordy enough for rapping. He would seriously short circuit at a request of such a thing and just go, 'No. The fuck?' He's 5,000 years old. He don't roll with the kids and their words. *cackles before coughing violently*

*neatly shuffles all your questions and places them back in the box with the answers* There you are, my dear friend! Thank you so much for stopping by the mailbox for the dragon and wolf! Do come again! >:D

[frozen-elsa-annawrites]

There she was , a breathtaking sight to behold , his breath hitches in his throat and tears of joy threaten to fall. Her sapphire eyes burned right through him , directly to his hammering heart. Tearful green eyes gazed on at his soon to be wife , his white gloves brushing against his sweaty palms due to rampant nerves that ate away at him. He swallows hard as lump forms in his throat and wills his body temperature to lower. Elsa senses his discomfort from the end of the aisle and sends a light wintery breeze in order to cool him down , he smiles gratefully.

Elsa looked radiant in her, a-line , off the shoulder wedding dress. The frost fabric sparkled with every sliver of light that poured into the chapel, the lace that decorated the bodice , the long sleeved lace depicted flowers and ornate wintery snowflakes that looked beautiful against her pale skin. Her wavy hair cascades down her back and over her shoulders , framing her pretty face to perfection. The veil , now that was a sight to see , it reflected beautifully in the light , the ultra fine frost fabric looked like glass in the chapel. Her golden tiara adorned her platinum blonde locks. Hans wishes Elsa could see herself the way he saw her.

He was unsure of how he had gotten past Elsa's frosty exterior , they just had a connection from the start , the silent yearning between the pair over the years had become too powerful for them to not give into each other. The pair were once famed for clashing , and having hour long arguments in the study , especially amongst the royalty - so this marriage had come at a complete surprise to everyone.

The whole room drifted away as Hans could only think of her , look at her and appreciate her , as their connected gaze never faltered. He could sense she was nervous too, for she also felt anxiety about large gatherings but also , nervous and paranoid that her bump was on show. It was perfectly concealed amongst the fabrics and the bouquet of flowers certainly helped to hide it. Eugene nudged Hans, whistling suggestively as If to congratulate him on winning the heart of such a kind and beautiful creature. Eugene felt pride for his best friend , and was looking forward to the day he and Rapunzel would be married officially. He smiles , their wedding was fast approaching , and he couldn't wait.

Hans couldn't believe it , he was to be her husband , it was so fantastical therefore it seemed to be too good to be true. Indeed it was true , the pair were to exchange vows and share their lives together until death do they part. Elsa was being walked up the Aisle by her Sister , the crown princess of Arendelle , Anna. Anna was also a beautiful young lady , who always managed to make him laugh and give him that sibling love that he never really had. The young princess wore a Bardot a-line dress , with light frosty blue lacing on the sweet heart neckline bodice , and the floaty skirts. Only a small bit of blue fabric circled Anna's upper arm. The princess's hair was waved , similar to her sister's hair , with a loose braid circling the back of her head.

Kristoff was flanking Eugenes side , nodding supportively , excited for this wedding , for it had been a long time since Elsa was this happy before she and Hans fell in love. He was excited for his future nephew , that was growing in Elsa's belly at that very moment , his heart slightly aches with envy for Anna had not yet fallen pregnant , but he had a feeling deep down that their time would come soon.

Hans smiles at his family , the very family he has always sworn to love and protect , he would continue to see his vow through. He would be injured , go through all his suffering again, if it meant his family in Arendelle was safe. If it meant that , Elsa would end up in his arms.

Olaf was chuckling happily as snow tears trickled down his cheeks , tugging Queen Ariannas dress emotively , whilst Rapunzel and pascal smiled eagerly at the loved up couple. Arianna patted the top of Olaf's head soothingly as she herself attempted to hold tears back, whilst her husband Frederick wraps a loving arm around her waist - which is then followed by a sweet kiss to her temple.

Elsa takes in her soon to be husband , his strong form looked beautiful in the Dark blue naval uniform , his plenty medals and awards pinned on his chest , the gold epaulettes brought out the green in his eyes and looked stunning amongst the blue. Her eyes trailed down his legs , which had slim fitting white trousers with a gold strip down the outer seam , his large sharp naval blade was sheathed safely in its scabbard that was strapped to its masters waist , the trousers he wore left nothing to the imagination and she found it rather thrilling , the entire congregation eyeing what was rightfully hers.

Elsa is soon at Hans' side , Anna shares a smile with Hans before letting her sisters arm go hesitantly. Anna knew that , Elsa was dearly loved and protected by this man , which is why she let her go so willingly to her once former enemy. The Queen chuckles before tenderly intertwining her cool bare fingers with his warm gloves ones , squeezing his hand affectionately. Blue eyes meet green , lovingly entirely entrapped with each other , Elsa summons a light happy snow in the chapel which causes gestures of awe from the spectators.

The priest clears his throat , an elderly man who'd crowned Elsa four years prior at her coronation , a man who'd normally be in red robes , wore white for this momentous occasion , that most of Arendelle thought would never come for the young cold Queen. He expresses his congratulations and friendliness for the happy couple, smiling at the ice Queen's beautiful magic.

"We gather here to unite these two people in marriage. Their decision to marry has not been entered into lightly and today they publicly

declare their private devotion to each other. The essence of this commitment is the acceptance of each other in entirety, as lover, companion, and friend." The elderly priest soft baritone tones , warmly expresses to the congregation, Hans beams at Elsa , struggling to contain the urge to sweep her lips in a passionate kiss , in front of the world to see.

"A good and balanced relationship is one in

which neither person is overpowered nor absorbed by the other, one in which neither person is possessive of the other, one in which both give their love freely and without jealousy. Marriage, ideally, is a sharing of responsibilities, hopes, and dreams. It takes a special effort to grow together, survive hard times, and be loving and unselfish." The elderly priest grins brightly at Hans and Elsa , nodding with great approval towards their marriage.

"Do you, Queen Elsa of Arendelle, and , Admiral Prince Hans Westergaard, both pledge to share your lives openly with one another, and to speak the truth in love? Do you promise to honor and tenderly care for one another, cherish and encourage each other, stand together, through sorrows and joys, hardships and triumphs for all the days of your lives?"

"I do" Elsa says emotively with pride , tears threading to flood down her rosey cheeks , Hans could feel his emotions stirring and swelling with the potential to allow him to cry in public.

"I do" Hans swallows his emotions and squeezes Elsa's hand tighter , for reassurance and a reminder of what all this was for.

"Do you pledge to share your love and the joys of your marriage with all those around you, so that they may learn from your love and be encouraged to grow in their own lives?"

"I do" They speak tenderly from the bottom of their lovelorn hearts , Elsa's magic glows in the chapel , the snowflakes emitting a blue light which makes Anna sniffle at the romance and the happiness she was in the presence of. Anna knew that her sister had been yearning for someone to love her , through and through , someone who saw her as something other than the snow Queen , Just as Elsa. Anna certainly loved her , but sisterly love wouldn't be able to sustain the Queen alone.

Hans turns to face Elsa taking both of her hands in his , his breath hitches at the sight of her enthralling beauty , his heart flutters in his chest at the reminder that he was to be hers. The priest places his hands on the couples furthering their potential union , blessing the couple in the name of his god.

"Queen Elsa of Arendelle, monarch of Norway , Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband and promise to be true to him in good times and in bad, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do" She sobs with deep emotional love for the man that stood in front of her , she did not know what she would do without him. Hans gently wipes her tears from under her eyes with his gloved thumb, Elsa wishes his hand would linger there for a bit longer.

"Will love you and honour him?"

"Of course I will" She smiles , her bright blue eyes still glistening with fresh tears , her bottom lip trembling slightly , allowing herself to be vulnerable in public for this special tender occasion. The priest gently squeezes the Queens hand with warm reassurance , sensing her emotions were becoming overwhelming, she was just so happy. His gaze shifts to the Admiral who , was also attempting to hold himself together.

"Admiral Prince Hans Westergaard . Do you take this Woman to be your lawfully wedded wife and promise to be true to her in good times and in bad , to have and to hold , from this day forward,  for worse , for richer , for poorer , in sickness and in health , until death do you part?"

"I do"  He speaks tenderly as Elsa let's out another joyful sob , the young queen who was finding it hard to see that she had been lucky enough to be in such a position , in love. She had been blessed with a handsome lover who worshipped the ground she walked on, and he'd blessed her with a child that she never thought she'd be able to have with her ice magic.

"Will you love and honour her , assist her in the ruling of this nation , as her equal , as you , her King and she , your Queen?"

"I will" He bows his head earnestly in respect towards the elderly priest , this man had crowned Elsa , her parents before her and Agnarr's father , King Runeard himself.

"'Now for the rings" the priest beckons Anna over with Hans' ring , that Elsa had secretly engraved inside forever my love. She would show him this engraving once they would have a chance at being alone together after the ceremony.

Elsa trembles as she takes Hans' ring from Anna's velvet cushion , her blue eyes concentrated intensely on not stumbling or dropping such a precious object.

She gently slides Hans' white glove off his left palm , a slight jolt rushed through her upon contact with his warm skin . Her orbs rest intensely on his for a quiet moment , she remembers all the kisses stolen , all the loving words , all that intimate moments shared between them , all leading to this important ceremony.

The priest says his blessings as she gently slides the silver band onto his ring finger , tears cascading down her pale cheeks , he takes her cool hand in his and slips the silver band onto her finger , the band looked  beautiful next to her snowflake engagement ring. An irrepressible smile graced his cheeks as he took in his beautiful bride , his everything , his all.

"I now pronounce you Husband and Wife" the elderly man grins brightly for he had successfully ensured an important union for yet another Arendellian Royal.

"You may now kiss , the bride"

Elsa surprises her husband by pulling him by the collar in order to gain easy access to his lips , and she presses a passionate kiss to his lips , a breathless hum passes through his lips as he returned the kiss with intense love.  One of his hands gently cupped her cheek whilst the other presses against the small of her back. The congregation erupts in Cheers and applause of congratulations as the newly weds embrace each other.

As they descend down the aisle arm in arm , rose petals are thrown over the loved up couple whilst a happy snow flutters over the awestruck congregation. Anna cheers tearfully for her sister was now with this kind hearted man until death do they part , they looked beautiful together , a truly handsome couple basking in the autumn sunlight. They all leave the castle chapel and make their way back into the royal gardens for celebratory drinks.

[shintorikhazumi]

“Yet” (14): Homecoming

A/N: Sorry this one is kind of long, but I really wanted to end by the second week, so I tried to just... end it with a full-ish chapter.

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

She looked... foreign. But at the same time terribly familiar. She knew her, and yet she didn’t as she’d never even met her.

Russet strands covered in dust, dried, and with some odd, greenish glow to them (she was sure an explanation would be given in due time); a sweet burgundy that matched her own- it was like looking at her own reflection in the mirror... just that... this reflection was a horrific mess of a copy of her own face- a few years older, and deformed with an ugliness that had its own story to tell- this was what she came face to face with, on a cold sixty-sixth day of her eighteenth year of life.

She almost couldn’t bear to look at that sorry countenance.

She would have asked her mum-voice clear and to be heard by all- who this frightening stranger was. She would have.

And yet... she didn’t have the heart to inflict that kind of piercing pain on the older woman staring right back at her; shock, awe, wonder, hesitation, fear, guilt, longing. She could see them all- the various splashes of emotional color on that otherwise paling face.

A face that angered her. A face her mind resented.

Yet...

//-//-//-//-//

It was awkward. Excruciating.

Akko stood in front of a girl- no. That wasn’t quite right; not anymore.

Dull reds scanned the figure fixed on a spot just below the front steps to the mansion, face contorted with feelings she must have wanted to mask behind nonchalance and trained grace; but failing miserably to hide contempt, or disgust, or whatever it was that Akko assumed the sight of her made her feel.

Still, she was on a mission. A brand new one, assigned to her by none other than the keeper of her heart- her wife. A mission that she just could not fail. Or at least, couldn’t keep failing.

The task? Well, she was currently meeting this young lady. For the first time. She looked elegant, raised with as much love and care that a parent could muster on their own. She looked like she had a good head on her shoulders; responsible and intellectual. She had a finely groomed appearance; hair flowing down to mid-waist level, kept neat by a single violet headband; her clothes were modest and elegant, befitting of a bearer of the Cavendish name. She seemed well-mannered enough with how she held back any violent reaction towards someone Akko believed did not deserve to step foot in these premises. Her.

Despite the guilt gnawing into her entire being, Akko found it impossible not to look upon the fair maiden instead of hiding her own nightmare of an appearance. She should be looking down in shame, desperately figuring out how to start this long-due apology. However, all that left her mind as she was spellbound by the one person before her, the only one her eyes could-would see, this very moment.

This girl, this lady, this young woman...

This...

This was her daughter.

//-//-//-//-//

“...ko... Ak... Akko!”

It was tingly. It was warm. It surged through her body like magic. Magic that was not her own. This feeling so familiar- when had she experienced it before? Ah-

Diana.

“Akko? Can you hear me, love? Please. Please, respond. Just say my name again one more time. Or anything. Please. I beg of you. Please. Anything to know you are okay.” The desperation was palpable in that voice. “Professor Croix, how do I know this is working? Are you sure this is all I should be doing? What about healing? What if I-”

“No, Diana. Do not do more than I tell you to. Right now, Akko... Akko isn’t in a state that can be fixed by a normal session of healing. This is...” A much older sounding voice paused, hesitant. Akko could only wonder why. “The magic of Wagandea’s system embedded in her will keep her alive for a while, but we do need to figure out a way to extract it in the near future; before that very system withers away.”

“But-!”

‘What are they... talking about... I don’t understand.’

“Diana, please. We don’t have much time to leave this place before the concentration of magic becomes more than we can bear. Having used the rod, we are at risk to inadvertently become the rerouted storage for all this excess energy that the Tree cannot handle to contain anymore. We cannot become like what Akko has started to turn into.”

‘What does that mean? Why- what am I turning into? Diana? Diana, why are you crying?’

“How will we know if she’s okay to be transported then?”

“We will just have to do so, blind.”

‘What...?’

“And if that hurts her?!”

“Diana, you’ll just have to trust me when I say she’ll be better once we leave. Let’s go.”

“But Professor!”

‘Don’t cry... Diana. Please, don’t cry. I can’t bear to see you cry. I love you.’

Akko tried to feel her arms, tried to close her hand, or at least twitch a finger. She needed to let Diana know. She needed to call for her. She needed to respond. Diana. Diana. Diana-

“P...lease...” Her voice croaked, she sounded like she was dying. Might as well be, right now with how shitty she felt. Still. That seemed to be enough to grab her attention, Diana’s gorgeous blue eyes sparkling with more tears.

“Akko!” She felt herself embraced tight. Warm. At home.

“Dia...na... ple...s... don’... c-cry...”

“Shhh, shhh. It’s alright. You can stop talking now. Please. Stop talking. It’s okay now. You’re okay now. You’re fine now. You’re... You’re perfect. We can go home. We can go home now, Akko.” Diana rambled through her tears, tender salt-kisses pressed everywhere on Akko’s numbed face. “We can go now, professors.”

Akko barely recognized the presence of her two closest mentors. Since when had they been here? No, nevermind that. She wasn’t done with what she was saying.

“Di...a... Dian... Diana... list...n...”

“Akko? Akko! What is it? What is it, Love? I’m here. I’m listening.”

It hurt, her throat. It felt weird. She cleared it. She needed Diana to understand her well, and exact.

“Diana...”

“Yes? Yes, Akko.”

“I love you.”

Oh no. No. This wasn’t what she had intended. She was trying to make Diana stop crying. Not sob all the more. Before she could voice any concern however, she was hoisted into strong arms, loaded on a broom. She saw Diana wipe those tears from her eyes, and as if reading Akko’s hazy mind, replied,

“Don’t worry. I’m simply overjoyed Akko. I love you as well. More than life itself. I love you.”

She must be looking like the picture of stupidity right now, but at least she still remembered how to smile. Diana appeared to have remembered too.

Speaking of remembering... wasn’t there something else? Something Akko needed to do? She wracked her muddled brain for- ah.

“...I ...w-want t’ see... her.” She slurred against Diana’s chest, eyes feeling heavier by the minute. “Diana... wan... see her... please.”

She only felt a nod on her head, and a wetness drop on her cheek. Diana knew what it was she was trying to convey. She felt their ride move faster. Faster and faster. Her wish was to be granted.

“I want to see Kotone.”

//-//-//-//-//

It was a weird thing to wake up three days into the travel home. The magical carriage they boarded steady rolling along the dirt road.

As soon as she’d opened her eyes, Diana was all over her, smacking her arm lightly, wailing into her shoulder.

Once she’d calmed down, Akko was able to take in many more things with a less-foggy mind. Her two teammates were seated at one end of the carriage, Lotte looking as though she’d replace Diana next with the breathtaking hugs. Sucy had never had as much emotion show on her face until this moment.

Then Croix stole her attention with a comment on how surprised she was at Akko’s state. She was asked questions. How did she feel? Was there still pain? Did she feel drained, or odd, or anything. And if Akko thought about it, she felt better than she had ever in so long. Why was that? Croix hadn’t answered her then, but she was promised an extensive conversation after more urgent matters were settled.

What could be more urgent than information about what exactly was going on right now?

When the carriage came to a stop, and Akko peeked out the glass window, she finally knew. Or she tried to know. Her mind was at a screeching halt once more at what she saw.

And so Diana laid it all out for her. Her mission.

//-//-//-//-//

“...”

“...”

“I-” “You-”

“Oh” “Go ahead-”

“Ah, no you go first.”

“Oh, no, I insist that you-”

“B-but I really think that you have something to-”

“I... maybe, but... I... who... um... introductions... my Mum told me introductions are important and... you go first.”

“I...” She could feel her hands trembling. Anticipation? Anxiety? She didn’t know. She was simply overwhelmed by this... this... this. How does one ‘break the ice’, again? Eyes darted back and forth, head whipping this way and that, looking for some kind of aide, a distraction, a bridge for communication. Something. Anything! ‘Please, Kami-sama. Send me something. Someone... anyone-’

The sound of a clanky bell, and a rolling cart.

There! That! That could work! Wait! Stop! She needed-

She spun quickly on her heel towards the main gate they’d just passed through, leaving everyone dumbfounded as she rounded the wall, disappearing from their view momentarily. It made quite a few of them nervous, fearing she’d never return after they just got her back.

Those worries were laid to rest, as barely a minute later and their long-lost brunette marched up to them, some containers in hand. Diana realized what just occurred. It was fairly early in the morning, time for the farmers to pass...

“I-!” Akko yelled accidentally, nerves catching up to her, messing up her motions as she nearly punched a white-filled glass bottle into her very own child’s face. “I... I heard growing children need milk?!”

“...”

“...”

Diana was concerned. “Ak-”

But then a bundle of teary, incoherent words suddenly lunged into Akko’s arms, staining her torso with held back sorrow and need. Sure, she could not comprehend a word yet, but she completely understood everything Kotone wanted to convey.

And Akko missed her too. With all of her believing heart.

"You're such an idiot." Kotone sobbed, fists hitting her back a few times. "...I'm all grown up."

 It hurt. It hurt so much. She knew it, but hearing that truth killed her. To know she's missed that much of her daughter's life.

She felt the girl’s head press against her chest, arms around her waist pulling her ever closer, tighter. She could cry at the realization of what the girl was doing... She was listening to Akko’s heartbeat.

“So this is the sound of Mama’s heart...”

...

And Akko cried.

“Kotone. You are the sound of my heart.”

//-//-//-//-//

“ARE YOU SURE THIS IS SAFE, MAMA?!”

“PERFECTLY!”

“AKKO! STOP LYING! I REMEMBER YOU BREAKING YOUR ARM THE LAST TIME WE-”

“And off we go!”

“NOOOOOOO!”

“M-mum! Mum, I can’t- I can’t breathe!”

“Don’t be such a spoil sport, Diana; flying surfboard are always so cool!” Akko cheered, directing their vessel through the air, towards the beach.

“NOT WHEN THE THREE OF US CROWD YOUR TINY-” A pair of lips silenced her own, Akko’s grinning face coming into focus.

“Relax. Don’t be so tense, dear. We’re finally having our long-awaited family bonding time!!! At the beach, no less! You work so hard, it was a struggle to organize this day off, y’know?” Akko pouted, but it immediately vanished at the sight of her daughter nodding enthusiastically in front of Diana. “See? Kotone agrees!” They shared a high-five that Diana could only sigh to.

“Yay!”

“Not ‘yay!’” Diana chided. Wait a second. “WHO’S DRIVING?!”

“Calm down, Diana! Akko laughed aloud, breeze running through her hair as she manned the wooden board with her body. “What could go wro-”

There was a tree.

“...”

“...”

“You were saying?” Akko only groaned in defeat, face up against the bark.

“Aw, man. Board broke, mama. How do we get to the beach now?” Kotone frowned. None of them seemed to have the common sense to just magic it back into perfection, at the moment. They’d probably realize sooner or later.

“Well, there’s no rush anyway. We can always walk!”

“But it’ll take so long! The time...”

Akko pet her daughter’s head affectionately, gathering their fallen things, as well as her fallen wife on the ground, muttering curses and possibly planning spells to teach Akko important lessons about safety later on. Well...

Turning to Kotone, instead, she smiled, addressing the girl’s concerns.

“Worry not, love. Time is nothing. We have so much day left, and it’s definitely not over yet!”

Just like their story, together now.

It wasn’t over yet.

It’s only just begun.

A/N: I’M SORRY, I JUST HAD TO DO THE MILK OKAY?! THE TAGS NEED TO BE PROPERLY USED.

Awkward ending. I have writer’s block. Sorry. This short fic ended with full-length chapters. I’m sorry. It was hard to just... end it. So... sorry.

Anyway, welp. That’s it for the main run of “Yet”. Thank you to everyone who stuck around with the daily updates. There will be a few chapters of afterstory to address the blank spaces between plot such as what exactly happened before they got Akko home; what happens to the world of magic now that wagandea, a system akin to bodily homeostasis is gone; what happens to Akko herself after turning into this half-human, half-tree spirit entity; the magic community and the way the Old Nine are seen. But for now, I’d like a break from this to return to my multichapters that I’ve left behind. This was just supposed to be my in-between writing whenever I got stuck with my diakko day piece, but look where it’s brought us all. Hahaha. Frustration and all that. I truly enjoyed this, and I hope you all did too!

I can also begin to reply to the amazing amount of comments you all left behind! I’m extremely honoured and happy to receive so many feedback!

Til next time!!

~Shintori Khazumi

[tartagilicious]

Gavin Eternal Wedding Karma Date (translated)

there was an issue with Tumblr and the original text was deleted. this is the same content, but w/o the cgs and also bolded names to make reading it easier. sorry for the inconvenience :(

spoilers for a date not on the EN server below the cut~

MC: Anna, has everyone reached their places?

Anna: rest assured, i’ve checked with them all, there will be no problems, and the photographer will come find me with the situation of the drone.

Anna: you’re the bride of the day, if you run around like this, the makeup artist’s hard work for two hours will be in vain!

MC: you’ve all worked hard…

Near valentine’s day, the company planned a collective wedding called “Fairy Tale Dream”.

We ran through the city’s wedding company and finally found 99 new couples who were willing to cooperate with us in the collective shooting in the “Fairy Tale World” themed park in Lianyu City. (tn: loveland city)

We will arrange these 99 couples to stand in different positions in the park, from the lawn at the entrance of the park to the retro street in front of the castle to the church decorated with flowers.

The said drone equipped with a camera will fly through the entire park according to a predetermined path for shooting, and the new couples will have to put out a specific act when it passes.

We want to pass this kind of ‘one mirror to the end’ technique, where we will take the fairy tale aspect of the whole paradise and have the atmosphere and happiness recorded.

Though, I didn’t expect that a few days before shooting, a few couples couldn’t come due to emergencies! In our desperation, we could only find stand-ins among ourselves.

Willow, Kiki and I have gone together only to make it up to the number 99.

I smoothed out my snow-white skirts -- although the dress is only borrowed, and the groom is fake, I'm still sure that every girl will have a heart full of longing for such a wedding.

After all, it’s really beautiful…

Should I take a picture for him?

I talked to him last 3 days ago, and I don't know if his mission was going well.

As soon as this thought arose, my phone rang. It was my “groom” Minor.

[over the phone] Minor: Hi boss….

Minor’s voice was so sleepy!

MC: Are you still at home? Filming will start in half an hour!

[over the phone] Minor: I…

[over the phone] Minor: I stayed up all night last night and went to bed at four. Can I take a day off?

MC: What?!

This is the fairy tale wedding that I prepared for nearly two months, and already at the last moment before shooting, Minor has released my doves? (tn: she’s saying that because he won’t show up, he’s ended everything before anything even happened.)

MC: you’re my partner, who am I going to film with if not you?

For a moment, I was so godless that I couldn’t help but raise my voice

Anna: What happened? Minor won’t come?

MC [to Minor]: You come here right now, and I’ll tell the photographer to wait for you! If you don’t appear in front of me in half an hour, I will--

[over the phone] Minor: Wait, wait until I finish talking, boss -- Although I can’t come, your groom will not be absent.

MC: what do you mean?

Minor was one step ahead of me and hung up the phone without waiting for me to speak. I hadn’t even responded yet, and a familiar voice suddenly came from behind me.

Gavin: Am I late?

As I turned around, I couldn’t help but feel stunned. The man in a suit and leather dress shoes stood a few steps away from me. His light chestnut hair was covered in gold from the sun, his amber eyes were enveloped in fine shimmers, and the corners of his normally unsmiling lips were slightly raised. He had a clean jawline, and this smooth, somewhat sharp line immediately followed his thin neck and wide shoulders that were covered under his shirt.

It’s the man I’m familiar with, but it’s not the same as usual…

The ten slender fingers are holding a pair of ice-like crystal shoes that shine in the sun, and the upper part of the shoes shines brightly as well, like the stars or a firefly.

MC: Gavin, you…

I was still at a loss for words. Gavin came over to me naturally, stooped down and knelt in front of me. At the next moment, warm fingertips touched my ankles and I bit my lower lip subconsciously.

The wind in February is cold, but my face becomes hot instantly. At the same time, I clearly hear the sound of my heart in the left-most side of my chest, again and again.

I looked down at Gavin, and all of my emotions were stuck in my throat. It turned out that it was quite a feeling to be found by him in a big crowd.  Every year, Spring is given meaning, and every moment of waiting for happiness is suddenly fulfilled. (tn: kind of complicated, but she’s basically saying that she feels the traditional relief and comfort of spring looking down at Gavin.)

After changing a shoe, I noticed that I was not standing steadily. Without hesitation, I put my hand in his palm. I let him take my weight and stepped into the second shoe delicately.

Gavin stood up quickly and took the balloon in my hand. Anna then stepped forward to straighten my hair for me and set the veil down again, making sure that my makeup had no flaws while smiling with ease.

Anna: I am a bit reluctant to send you off to marriage all by yourself.

I glanced at Gavin with corners of my lips turned up in a smile, and muttered softly.

MC: we’re not getting married…

Anna smiled and held her hands up in surrender, but her eyes still fell on the hands that Gavin and I hadn’t yet let go of. She looked cheerful.

Anna: I’ll clean up here, you hurry up and prepare.

I looked at Gavin and smiled at him slightly.

Gavin: Ready to go?

MC: ok!

I never thought I would have such a one-on-one walk with Gavin in these blooming flowers, leading to a fairytale kingdom.

With every step, the pleasant sound of the crystal shoes stepping on the ground rang in my ears. Maybe a fairy has put some magic on me? Maybe then I can have the surprise and happiness of Cinderella.

MC: Gavin, actually I was thinking just now, if you wouldn’t have seen me looking so beautiful today, it would’ve been a pity.

Gavin: Well, then it’s a good thing I came.

The designated shooting location for Gavin and I was the terrace on the third floor of the castle. I carefully took the skirt in my hands and walked up the castle’s circular staircase step by step. Probably only because I was insecure. Gavin held my hand sweetly, lifting it slightly. Every step was slow and careful, but he was patient.

Sunlight shines into the castle from the windows filled with stained glass, casting colourful lights and shadows on the dark cyan stone bricks and pure white steps. The huge dome itself depicts exquisite Greek mythology, and the golden bows and arrows of Eros around the edges point directly to the dark blue night full of stars.

A pure white and flawless wedding dress, magic crystal shoes, and a gorgeous castle -- although the teenage mind has imagined so-called fairy tale weddings countless times, I never imagined that one day my own dream would become reality.

Although unexpected, it made me feel that this arrangement of fate is a good thing for me.

I looked through the veil at Gavin. Somehow, since he appeared in front of me, even though it’s just a simple shooting for work, it’s made me inexplicably nervous.

MC: Gavin, when did you come back?

Gavin: Last night. Minor sent me a message two days ago saying that you were missing a partner, so I finished the task as soon as possible to come back.

My footsteps took a light pause. Sounds like I caused him trouble again….  

(tn: and she’s just gonna ignore how minor never planned to come in the first place sfksjh)

I sighed to myself, a thank you almost escaping, but I swallowed it back after a short moment of hesitation.

MC: I didn’t expect the shoot to be temporarily short of people, but this doesn’t matter so much. You didn’t need to rush back.

Gavin: It matters.

There was a light smile on Gavin’s lips.

Gavin: Whether it’s real or not, only you could be my bride.

His tone still carries the usual carelessness, but every word and every sentence he spoke falls straight into my heart. Although he always understates such solemn promises, he never says things like that.

He is my fearless knight, always falling from the sky when I need him most, giving me the most comprehensive protection -- without exception. If I have him, I have unlimited courage.

I held his hand tight and wanted to convey to him all my euphoria and gratitude at the moment through my palm temperature.

Every step of my heels on the marble floor echoed throughout the building. This road to our future is paved by out short and long life in the past --

MC: Gavin?

Gavin: Yes?

MC: Do you think that if the prince did not find Cinderella, would he marry another princess?

Gavin: No. After you’ve identified something, you won’t just stop looking for it.

As soon as his words fell, we walked through the last step, and my eyes were suddenly blinded. Sunshine and white pigeond are spread in every corner of the terrace, the vines climbing on the railing to lazily stretch out to branches and leaves. Standing here overlooking the paradise, I see everything in the scenery reflected in Gavin’s eyes.

The shimmering coins in the wishing pool, the flag flying on the pirate ship below and another flock of white pigeons flying over the castle -- I couldn’t help but gasp.

MC: The last time I was here it was a rainy day, but I didn’t expect to miss such scenery!

Gavin: Since you see it now, it’s not a miss.

Just as I was fascinated by a white dove resting on the railing of the terrace, a ray of blue smoke floated over the large lawn at the entrance.

MC: It’s the signal to start shooting!

A cheerful waltz sounded, and countless gorgeously dressed fairy tale characters rushed from all sides to the main street in front of the castle, singing blessing songs for all of the new couples to hear. The white wedding dresses of the brides rotate with their elegant dance postures, blooming like blossoming camellia.

Several pumpkin cars slowly drove past, throwing wine and gold leaves and petals around. At this moment, the colourful balloons in the hands of the grooms took off. Pages of fairy tale chapters are being staged, and the magic and magnificent love on the pages of the yellow-ish book are now unfolding right in front of my eyes.

While I was immersed in the joyous atmosphere in front of me, the drone in the distance appeared in my sight -- I didn’t expect it to come so fast!

I took repeated breaths in an attempt to calm down.

Gavin: Cold?

Sensing my increasingly stiff expression, Gavin shifts closer.

MC: No, I’m just… a little nervous.

Although I am already familiar with the next process, I did not seriously participate in the rehearsal, after all. I can’t help but feel guilty about possibly ruining the upcoming official shooting.

MC: Gavin, remember to lift my veil later and let go of the balloons.

After this sentence was finished, I realised that the scripted action of looking at each other affectionately was originally written in the planning case by me….

That’s embarrassing.

I could feel my ears turning more red and tried to pull my hand out of his, but failed.

MC: it is to lift the veil and let go of the balloon, so….

So he should have a free hand. But, he only held my hand tighter.

At this moment, the drone was flying slowly towards the terrace. I was about to remind him again when a breeze blew in front of me, gently lifting my veil -- the piece of fabric was gone and now, I could clearly see Gavin’s face.

He stepped forward about half a step closer, released the balloons according to the predesigned plan, and the free hand wrapped gently around my waist. I blinked and clearly saw the smile of his amber eyes, the most dazzling light in the world, reflected in my eyes at that moment.

I don’t know how long it took before Gavin stepped away.

The drone had long disappeared, and the entire park has been filled with colourful balloons.

I took two steps to the edge of the railing, and even when seeing that the shoot was now completed below, the couples were still hugging tightly. There are also some jokes and laughs down on the grass -- you are carrying me, and I’m pulling you -- but whatever the action, everyone is smiling.

MC: That’s nice….

I was relieved by their smiles, no matter what the results of the shooting are, this moment makes it all worth it!

I found myself having slightly red eyes subconsciously, but it was suddenly enveloped by a burst of warmth. In the blink of an eye, something dripped from my eyes and crossed my lips that were always raised.

Gavin hugged me from behind, and when I imagined this picture, he tightened his arms and held his breath. He lowered his head, his chin resting gently above my forehead.

Gavin: What are you thinking?

I watched the bride closest to us raise her phone and take several pictures with the groom.

MC: When i first started this planning, I always felt that the form was greater than the content. After all, compared to a wedding ceremony, the atmosphere of a park and the drone shooting are the key points.

MC: But later, I felt that the form was less and less important. It’s the most significant thing to witness the most important moment in the life of so many people! It turns out that happiness can be seen: there is sound, there is temperature. Yeah….

My hand was covered with the back of Gavin’s, and my fingertips touched the rough marks his guns had left over the years. Then, he intertwined his fingers with mine, leaving no gaps.

MC: ...Happiness can be touched.

Gavin didn’t speak anymore, and a light smile flicked my ears. The long silence stretched this warm moment for a long, long time, but every second, I subconsciously hope that the next will be longer.

Soon, all of the colourful balloons disappeared into the clear sky, so it seems like the shooting should all be over.

I immediately picked up Gavin’s hand and ran back the way we originally came.

MC: come with me ---

I led him out of the castle and ran along the avenue full of petals to the deserted game area. The park is not open to the public today, but due to the shooting requirements, all game equipment is in operation. And lucky for us, the entire area is covered by one after another.

Seven or eight pigeons stood in the open space in front of the carousel. I took a few hesitant steps forward, and although I deliberately slowed my pace, the pigeons still jumped and flew off in surprise.

Gavin: Seems these pigeons are very afraid of life, and they’re not very obedient.

MC: No!

I reached into the small bag I carried with me and pulled out two small packs of pigeon food, shaking it in front of Gavin.

MC: these are props I “borrowed” from shooting. During this time, I’ve been friendly with them, so they’re a bit closer to me.

I threw a handful of pigeon food all over the open space. In an instant, all the white pigeons passed by in front of us and stopped to grab food between their small beaks.

Watching them happily eat, I couldn’t help getting closer.

MC: Eat a little bit more and go home full. But in the future I ask for you to visit often!

Group of pigeons: coo coo! (tn: felt like i had to keep it lol)

I do not know if it understood what I said. Several white pigeons raised their heads to look at me with beady eyes, but when I looked back, a fat white pigeon was already perching on Gavin’s index finger.

He was shrouded in the morning sun as thin as a tulle . The tie that had been neatly worn was slightly loosened by him, and the suit waistcoat was also loosened by two buttons.

I stepped forward and lightly touched the white pigeon’s talon, but the little guy ignored me and only looked up and Gavin.

Gavin: If it depends on me to eat, it’s probably not very hungry.

MC: either that or it knows you can eat a big meal here.

I flipped my bag open again, and I found the last bag of pigeon food. I ripped the package open under the heavy gaze of the white pigeon, and it stared at the food. The fat pigeon immediately flew from Gavin’s finger and stopped at me. However, it only took two bites before suddenly flying off --

Gavin: Someone’s whistling.

MC: ah, well, we agreed with the owner of them that they could be picked up around this time.

All the pigeons seemed to notice, and suddenly spread their wings to rise into the air, leaving only small scraps of food behind. Watching them fly higher and higher, I hurriedly waved at them, and then looked at Gavin with a smile.

MC: Shall we go home too? You can rest for a while and wait for me to cook a big meal for you!

Gavin: That sounds good.

Gavin strode forward and took my hand, and his brow suddenly stretched as he smiled slightly.

Gavin: You have cold hands (tn: it’s worth mentioning he has a very sad expression in this frame)

He immediately draped his blazer over my shoulders, and pulled his collar tightly around my shoulders exposed to the cold wind.

Gavin: Sit down and rest for a while, we don’t have to rush.

I looked at the low bench, then my wedding dress. After all, it is borrowed clothing….

Gavin seemed to understand my worries and took me into his arms directly without saying a word.

MC: Gavin!

Suddenly, my feet were off the ground, and I exclaimed in shock. When my reaction came, he had already entered the carousel area and placed me firmly on a wooden horse. However, as soon as he lets go, the game starts a new round of rotation. Sitting on the shifting wooden horse, I unexpectedly lost my balance!

Subconsciously, my hands grabbed for the nearest support -- a white dress collar.

Gavin: Afraid? I won’t let you fall.

He took another half step, and I was finally able to relax after regaining my sense of security.

It’s just that I still dare not let go with my feet off the ground, so I subconsciously gently hooked my arms around his shoulder. A brilliant string of lights shone above my head, and warm and joyful music was playing. In a flash, I felt like I was pulled back into the fairy tale dream.

MC: Gavin… Thank you for coming back for me.

Gavin: What?

MC: Whether it’s true or false, I want to only be your bride.

The bell of noon is ringing -- the fairy’s magic has not disappeared. My knight, who has seen me look so embarrassed and silly for so many times, still pulls out his sword in the face of the evil dragon and witch, and firmly stands in front of me.

His tall back is the deepest notch left in my memory. The wind and frost condensed in his eyes is the starlight that I am willing to look to for my entire life. The sea breeze blows between my fingers, and I gather my fingers to hold them tightly in my palm.

At this moment, I don’t know how I can express my love for him in words. I can only stare at him in wonder, and I can’t bear to look away

Gavin: ……

With a small chuckle, he leaned over and drew closer to me. At the moment when our eyes were locked, I held my breath slightly, and then he moved closer and dropped a soft kiss on my lips.

Afterwards, I saw the colourful lights on the top of the carousel’s stacked halo, and saw the white pigeons passing through the cloudless sky -- I wondered for a moment whether I fell into the most beautiful dream in the world.

Gavin’s warm breath completely surrounded me. He held my face tenderly in one hand and rested the other gently on my waist.

Every plunder did not go in depth, nor did he leave. I was dazzled by it and did not want to wake up.

Gavin: When you are ready -- you can be my bride at any time

[chibistarlyte]

everything the light touches

"This," Shouto said, sliding the ring onto Katsuki's ring finger, "is my promise to you, Katsuki. My promise that, when I free this land from my father's tyranny and find a suitable ruler to take his place, I will go with you." Like the prince he was, Shouto lifted Katsuki's hand and placed a polite, delicate kiss to his knuckles. Katsuki's felt Shouto's lips move against his roughened skin as he said, "I will follow wherever you lead me." 

just a little something i wrote for @auyeahaugust! this is for day 7: royalty. i wanted to try writing some fantasy au todobaku!!

many many thanks to kat @sunshineijirou for betaing for me!

read the fic below the cut or here on ao3! you can also find a masterlist of all my bnha fics here!

.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Shouto jolted awake to the sound of pounding on his window, the repetitive rhythm echoing off the decorated walls of his royal bed-chamber. He gathered his wits quick enough to throw the covers off and light a fire in his left hand, both as a light source and possible defensive magic if a burglar or assassin was trying to get in. Slowly, the prince crept toward his ceiling-high window and held the fire up to the glass. 

Unmistakable red eyes stared intently at him from the outside. 

"Oi. Lemme in," said the blond hanging outside Shouto’s window, voice muffled by the glass. He tapped on the glass again with his knuckles.

Unable to fight down the small smile that tugged at his mouth, Shouto doused his fire and unlocked the latches of his window. He pulled the double panes open wide enough for the blond to slip through into his room.

As soon as Katsuki's booted feet met the floor, he fisted Shouto's nightshirt and pulled him in for a bruising, almost desperate kiss.

Shouto's hands found their way into Katsuki's soft blond hair, blunt nails scraping against the shorter man's scalp as he pressed closer to Katsuki. "Are you trying to alert the guards, causing all that ruckus?" he teased against Katsuki's mouth, biting the blond's lower lip and tugging gently.

"Like your piss-ass guards could catch me," the barbarian king growled out, shoving Shouto back toward the bed. "Just who the hell do you think I am?"

Shouto allowed himself to be pushed down, letting out a soft "oof" as he landed atop his rumpled blankets. "A reckless idiot who keeps breaking into my room in the dead of night instead of, oh, I don't know, visiting during daylight hours like a normal person?"

Katsuki scowled as he crawled on top of Shouto, leaning down and mouthing at his neck. The fur lining of his cape brushed Shouto's skin, raising goosebumps on the pale, smooth expanse. "You're the one who let me in," Katsuki argued, biting at the juncture of Shouto's neck and shoulder.

"My mistake," Shouto said a bit breathily, circling his arms around Katsuki, sliding his hands beneath his cape to claw at his bare, muscular back.

Katsuki sat up on his haunches, his expression much more serious than Shouto would have liked. "I wouldn't have to keep sneaking in to see you if you'd just come with me," he said almost meekly, his kiss-swollen lips slightly protruded in a pout. 

Shouto smiled sadly, reaching up to cup Katsuki's face with his left hand. His thumb gently stroked at Katsuki's cheekbone. "You know I can't," Shouto said for what felt like the thousandth time. They had this conversation almost every time they met, and it never got any easier. The pain Shouto felt in his heart never lessened.

Katsuki nuzzled against Shouto's hand. "There has to be some way," he said quietly, seemingly more to himself than to Shouto.

"If I ever find a way to safely abdicate the throne, I promise you'll be the first to know," Shouto said, leaning up to kiss away the crease of Katsuki's brow. 

"You fuckin' better," Katsuki said in a half-threatening manner, nipping Shouto's palm with his sharpened canines. 

"Here," Shouto said, removing his hand from Katsuki's face for a moment. He felt Katsuki's intense crimson gaze on him as he pulled the ring off his middle finger—it was an intricate design of silver interwoven with gold, with bright aquamarine and ruby gemstones encrusted around the crest of the royal family seated in the center.

"What are you doing?" Katsuki asked as Shouto took his left hand, rough and calloused from years of fighting and clawing his way to become king. Katsuki's hands were so different from Shouto's, whose hands were still soft and delicate—befitting for the crown prince of the Kingdom of Endeavor.

But Katsuki knew that, despite his outward softness and regality, Shouto was not to be underestimated. He was strong in his own right, and could more than hold his own in a fight. 

Katsuki had made that mistake once, and only once.

"This," Shouto said, sliding the ring onto Katsuki's ring finger, "is my promise to you, Katsuki. My promise that, when I free this land from my father's tyranny and find a suitable ruler to take his place, I will go with you." Like the prince he was, Shouto lifted Katsuki's hand and placed a polite, delicate kiss to his knuckles. Katsuki's felt Shouto's lips move against his roughened skin as he said, "I will follow wherever you lead me."

Overcome with too many emotions to decipher, Katsuki surged forward and claimed Shouto's lips again. 

Shouto shifted to lie down again, pulling Katsuki down with him. Shouto's fingers fiddled with the clasp of Katsuki's cape, while Katsuki busied himself with the ties at the nape of Shouto's nightshirt.

They didn't get much further before there was a gentle tapping at Shouto's open window.

Eijirou, Katsuki's friend and confidante from the red dragon clan in the mountains, was perched on the sill outside the window, looking human as ever but for the giant red wings on his back.

Katsuki and Shouto broke apart, both looking to Eijirou with sinking feelings in their hearts. 

Their time was up.

"Guard shift is changing," Eijirou said without preamble, smiling a little guiltily at the lovers. "Time to go, Katsuki."

Katsuki sighed, dropping his forehead against Shouto's half-bare chest. "I wish we had more time…" he whispered, his voice cracking uncharacteristically. His breath hitched when he felt Shouto thread his fingers through his hair, hand settling against the back of his head.

"There will be more time later," Shouto said with conviction that he wished was wholly genuine. But he was still scared, uncertain, at what the future would hold. "Until then, I will keep trying, Katsuki."

Katsuki blew out a heavy sigh, kissing Shouto's collarbone before sitting up again. "Alright, halfie. I'll be back soon." He slid off the bed and retrieved his cloak from where Shouto had dropped it on the floor, swinging it around his shoulders in one fluid motion. He paused before hooking the clasp, eyeing the necklaces adorning his neck and draping down his bare chest.

"C'mon, Kats, we gotta hurry," Eijirou said, looking down at the castle grounds to make sure they were still clear of the guards.

"I know, I know, just give me a sec," Katsuki said, lifting one of his necklaces up and over his head—the one with the thin black cord of leather and turquoise beads. He turned to Shouto, who had stood from the bed and was looking at Katsuki contemplatively.

"Katsuki?" Shouto asked softly.

"My promise to you," Katsuki echoed Shouto's words, reaching up and setting the necklace over Shouto's head. He guided it down until the beaded pendant lay against Shouto's chest, almost like a protection ward. "That I'll keep coming back, again and again, until we can leave together."

Shouto touched the necklace reverently, his eyes saying more to Katsuki than words ever could. He leaned in and pecked Katsuki gently on the lips. "I'll see you soon, Katsuki."

"Yeah," Katsuki replied, returning the small kiss and lingering just a few seconds more than he should have. Taking Shouto's hand and giving it one final squeeze, he turned and bolted for the window.

Eijirou helped Katsuki over the sill, and his features shifted into something serpentine until the form of a great red dragon hovered in the air. Eijirou gently beat his wings to stay aloft, steady so Katsuki could climb onto his back.

Katsuki settled onto his dragon friend, taking one last look at Shouto through the window.

Shouto was barely smiling, giving Katsuki a small reassuring nod. He gripped the necklace tightly in his palm.

Katsuki nodded back, nudging his heels into Eijirou's sides. Away they flew into the moonlit night, towards the mountainous forest where both their clans resided.

Shouto watched them go, stepping over to the window and gazing out at the sky until he could no longer see the dragon’s silhouette in the darkness. Sighing, he closed the windowpanes and drew his curtains. His room was immersed in darkness once more, save for a faint and ethereal glow coming from Katsuki's necklace. It almost looked like Shouto's ice magic when it reflected in the sunlight.

Shouto brought the pendant to his lips, sealing his and Katsuki's promises to each other with a kiss. 

"I promise, Katsuki. I promise we’ll be together soon."

[monkey-network]

The Fiasco Finale of Future [1/2]

So in the penultimate episode of Steven Universe 2, the climax of both the season and series as a whole... is a group hug. As I expected, plenty were not too pleased with this turnout. Some felt it was anti-climatic, some felt it was resonating, and others tried to own the critics by digging deep into the scene like they always do sucking this show’s co- Coming from nearly a month later, I’m... split. One hand, I didn’t mind the climax. On the other hand, it was pathetic compared to plenty of other finales I’ve seen in media. It’s like this show as a whole, I enjoy it, but I also enjoy smacking it upside the head cuz it made some Karen-esque, All Lives Matter type stupid shit that I just cannot get behind. So you know what, Perry the Platypus, let’s mix it up. I wanna express the good and bad of this climactic end to the show and see where we can go from there. You ready?

What’s Good:

You truly wanna know what makes that final hug a great scene? A real showstopper? I have the truth, the best truth behind this, you won’t believe me but here goes. The climax worked because A Hug Is Nice. That’s it, there’s nothing else to it beyond a hug being nice. “But Monkey, you incel troll, there’s should’ve been more to that. The episode shouldn’t have taken that long to get to that point.” Well, in typical fashion, let me put it this way by talking about Spider-Man 2 (better than Spiderverse, don’t @ me). The whole movie is centered around Peter’s life getting shat on. He’s getting fired left and right, his people are abandoning him, he even loses his powers, he’s just at his utter lowest. But at his apartment, while contemplating, in comes his landlord’s daughter, Ursula, who offers him some chocolate cake and a glass of milk.

We can say the scene comes out of nowhere and that this is all that happens, feeling pointless, but I say this is an important scene because after everything that happens to him before, this one gesture from somebody out of nowhere to be honest was one of the nicest things he’s received in a while. It’s the seedling of a scene that keeps Parker going before Doc Ock comes to make him truly spring back into action. Above everything, it was nice. Like a hug.

I don’t need to be philosophically deep with SU2′s meta to tell you that a hug can be a worthwhile thing to get more than anything. It doesn’t resolve all the baggage Steven has in his mind, but a group hug from the people closest to you (and the Diamonds) can be a gesture so nice, it can numb you out, if only for a moment. Only other times where Steven got a hug was when he felt everything could be okay. With Lars, Peridot, and Connie after her “rejection”, and it’s after that “rejection” where he slowly loses it in his attempts to shake off that harsh feeling of abandonment and that everything can be okay. It is something where he can turn to the others for help but the concern of their response makes him reasonably suffer in silence. That last part is a little dumb, but I’ll get to that later. He can’t really hug himself because it doesn’t work like that. The point being that Steven, at his lowest, just needed something nice to consider. And a hug from everyone who loves him (and the Diamonds) can be that piece of chocolate cake he needed to be at ease, again, if only for a moment.

Like let me tell ya, as a deliriously depressed man that constantly wishes for death, a hug shouldn’t be spat on. Whether it be from your friends or mommy, a good hug can, at the very least, keep you sane and going. It isn’t medication, let’s not get it twisted, but a healthy remedy nonetheless, especially if you’ve ever felt touch-starved like I have before. It’s an affectionate gesture that for what it’s worth, should never be taken for granted. And while Steven could’ve well gotten this big type hug at almost any time he desired, I can at least appreciate the show for saving that at the right time. Whew. But, while the moment itself is nice, it’s predictably almost everything around it that unfortunately puts the moment in a vacuum and me with a bad taste in my mouth.

What’s Bad: 

Let’s get this out the way, because I’m such a literal bastard... *inhale*

Penis. Penis. Penis. Penis. Penis. Penis. Penis. Penis. Penis. Penis. Penis.

MUSHROOM! MUSHROOM!

Congrats on those with the corrupted!steven theories who no doubt had it hard on when this horned trunk ascended, hung its head high, and beat its meaty chest with blind rage, the crewniverse certainly had the balls to go with this design and a long discussion of utilizing Monster Steven’s full potential. And if you think I’m nasty about this, hoo boy, be glad that words are all you’re seeing right now because artists no doubt had a field day potentially ruining this design for you even more. I’m surprised Tumblr’s flagging system hasn’t taken down whole posts with this. HEHEHEHAAAAAAAA!

As you can probably tell, I’m not a fan of this Diamond Dinodildo’s design (say that 5x times fast). I mean Rebecca could be as horny as she pleased with this show, but this is next level, I tell you. But seriously, it honestly sucked that this is what they came up with when it served no purpose to Steven thematically other than him being a literal peen of a monster. Said this before, but what does becoming a corrupted looking amalgamation mean to him beyond “he’s a monster”? Corrupted gems weren’t the worst things in his world, they were products of a even worse thing. Turning into a diamond like figure would’ve said something about the cycle of abuse making you not feel like yourself, but a reflection of who you not only resent more than anyone, but were the indirect causes of your newfound issues. That would’ve took his struggle in the Diamonds Days arc to its next logical extreme, and brought most of Future’s episodes centered around Steven’s issues to a sensible turning point. Being a warped Diamond version of himself would’ve meant finally embracing inhumanity, and that would’ve conveyed the peak of Steven harshly feeling less like a human over the course of the season, especially when we had several episodes and new powers centering around him being inhuman. And a previous episode had him try to shatter a Pink version of White Diamond, two beings generally responsible for everything that’s happened to him. And it isn’t the design that made this a turn off.

What was Steven even gonna do as a monster? He does nothing to the town, he never even makes it pass the cliffside. He doesn’t even try to attack anybody, the only times he does is when he’s provoked by either the Cluster, the Diamonds, or any of the gems. Spinel raised more hell than Steven. So on the look back it’s insultingly sad they hyped up this big dick energy only to do... genuinely nothing. He already didn’t deserve turning into Pinky the Phallisaurus, but having him not even do anything as a monster left far more to be desired. Mob Psycho 100 did this nearly identical, but better. You can’t deny that it would’ve worked better with 22 minutes, actually give him something to do beyond screech and stomp like he’s Scrat from Ice Age. As much as I don’t like Change Your Mind, 45 minutes worked to its favor to do everything it did. Oh wait, this episode did make good use of time... with a fucking pity party.

They wasted my baby

This is. The WORST scene in the entire series and I’ll stand by that 100%. It’s one thing to show something offensive, but it’s another to have something be completely pointless. Yes, Connie talked some sense into them, but we didn’t need to waste time having White Diamond and the others bitch about something everyone who isn’t a toesucking simp should’ve figured out at that point. Not like it mattered, the Diamonds and Spinel never show up after this episode anyways, so good job making them count for something, I guess. This as well as minorly acknowledge the fact that the gems had a lot to do with Steven’s mental trauma because hey, we don’t have to hold these gems too accountable for child neglect. Speaking of which, where was Jasp- This plays well into my previous point, we aren’t shown what Steven was gonna do as a monster, so what else is the episode to do beyond holding him back in time to just make the characters go “All is lost” for one second before getting back up like this is Marvel’s Captain Driftwood?

Friendship is Magic had this type of moment in its penultimate finale but in that, more time was given to show the villains getting the upper hand, Twilight at her low point, her turnaround with her friends, and the lead in charge to defeat the villains. While some moments felt convenient and downright insulting, they made the most of their limit. The same can’t be said for this and it makes no sense. Speaking of things that make no sense:

Was this shapeshifting or corruption? Rushing or dragging? This personally bothers me because people are saying he shapeshifted even when they were also on board with him corrupting. But what was the point where monster Steven cums cries into the ocean turning it pink?

Now if Steven got himself corrupted, this would make sense since the three Diamonds are there with so fully turning him back to normal wouldn’t be an issue. Questions would arise about how corruption can happen to a human, then again this is Steven Universe, fans never really wanted you to ask questions. But if this was shapeshifting, then why have this permanent monster form? It would’ve made a little more sense of Steven changing his shape depending on his emotions, like what we’ve seen before. Additionally, Steven should have been capable of talking normally instead of roaring and growling like he switched brains with an actual animal. Just because he kinned Godzilla’s joystick doesn’t mean he was unable to speak to anybody, that is if he shapeshifted. Lastly, and this is more implicit than my previous points:

This season shouldn’t have tried tacking mental issues and trauma onto this dickslap of a climax. I’m on the side where we should’ve seen more from monster Steven, but what does this tell me for the topic of mental health? Nearly killing people on three separate occasions didn’t help, but having him transform into a near mindless beast is a backhanded way to convey post traumatic stress. Let me put it this way, if we didn’t get that episode where we learn Steven had held up trauma and stress from Doctor Priyanka, everything surrounding it afterward wouldn’t feel as fucked up as it did. Yes, understanding a root of a character’s problems is good, beneficial even, but having your character nearly, sporadically, commit MURDER THREE TIMES only to then have him become a wildin’ creature does nothing, if not disgust. It's disgusting when you talk about PTS one minute and have your main character be socially dangerous the next. You’d feel sorry for him, sure, but I gotta say nearly killing people is not something we should just hand wave. That is not a good or realistic depiction of depression and post traumatic stress; especially when you trying to discuss this with children. And don’t try to justify it by saying it was necessary for his downward spiral. Having to think and see death before my own eyes in real life, there should’ve been a better way to make Steven hit rock bottom without putting other’s lives on the line. It wasn’t compelling or resonating to see him become a witless creature after saying he could get away with anything, it felt jarringly hallow and teeth gritting sadistic to think this was acceptable. It took him turning into a literal creature to finally go to therapy or a throwaway line about therapy in this show’s case? Are you kidding me?

The hug is a nice moment on its own, but it took far too many kneecaps to get to this point and think it’s believably or justly earned. I can make fun of the monster design all I want, but what they put Steven through to get to this point is the most insulting writing I ever have to think about. Because you know what that hug told me, personally? It’s that you can commit near irrefutable atrocities, you can behave like a blithering rampaging beast all you wish, but that won’t matter. Because you’re valid and your people will love you. That is not only asinine, but it kinda pissed on what I went through growing up. Like, as idealistic as that felt, it didn’t add up because it made the mentally unstable come off as more unstable than they mostly are. You can disagree all you want with this, it won’t change the baffling fact that I came to this conclusion in the first place when I didn’t want to. “But the crew said in an interv-” NO, just nope. If the message the show gives is this polarizing for those that invested or were concerned with it, maybe the message wasn’t clear enough, who knows? I can believe Mr. Rogers never fucked this up when he made his show. I tried thinking of this differently, but I can’t excuse what they did and how they did it. Bojack Horseman never pulled this with its main lead and when it truly did, that was given more time to sort out; not an 11 minute epilogue in its final moments. The hug was nice, but this episode was trash.

Speaking of which, next time...

We Finally Look to the Future

Here’s Part 2, if you’re up.

[dwellordream]

This is kind of two unrelated questions but: if you're still doing the director's cuts, could you do chapter 3 of grass crown? (Or whichever chapter of whichever fic you want) and what your favorite fanfics are (regardless of fandom)?

I’ll rec some fics first because that’s going to be shorter than a director cut haha: in terms of what is currently updating that I’m following: An Unexpected Journey is a great The Mandalorian fic involving one of the most well-written and well-rounded, human OCs I have ever read in any fic, ever. His Highness Steven Universe is a very funny Steven Universe AU which does a great job of portraying fledgling teen romance as being so excruciating and mortifying yet giddily fun. Little Swan Lost is a very interesting modern Hobbit AU involving female Bilbo and an arranged marriage? sounds a little far-fetched but it’s both quite angsty and quite sweet. Our Blades Are Sharp is a great ASOIAF AU series revolving around a still-kicking Domeric Bolton and Sansa Stark; it offers a really interesting take on House Bolton. War in a time of “peace” is an awesome HP AU about a daughter of Sirius Black and a French Veela and her struggles through Hogwarts in Slytherin. Chapter 3 aka Lydia’s Dramatic Entrance aka “In the garden of Eden”: I actually had a great time writing this chapter and considered it a nice breath of fresh air into the fic in general (despite it literally being Chapter 3). Lydia was one of the first ‘wholly original characters’ I thought of when developing Grass Crown, and she sort of just sashayed onto the page with a martini in hand, dressed to the nines. We literally open with Lydia staring at her reflection- or trying to- much like the fish in the Rosiers’ gaudy ornamental tank, Lydia lives in a glass house and is always under inspection and observation.  Then we pretty quickly break down the Rosier family tree- mother Cordelia, father Gilbert, big brother Lyle, and pregnant sister-in-law Cecily. Cecily’s pregnancy is a big deal for the Rosiers, and a point of pride- with pureblood birth rates dwindling, a viable pregnancy is truly seen as something to celebrate and brag about. This chapter goes into detail about Lydia’s observant nature right off the bat, as well as how perceptive she thinks she is, pretty much dissecting everyone with one look alone. Projection, much? The big ‘problem’ of the hour is, of course, the floral arrangements- this is the sort of stuff that makes up Lydia’s extremely constrained life. Floral arrangements and caterers and decorations- party planning and social hours and gossip and fashion is pretty much what she’s expected to limit herself to. While it’s not immediately clear if the Rosiers have actively dissuaded Lydia from having a career or not, it’s obvious that she’s not really encouraged to be interested in that sort of thing- she’s got a big future on the horizon, but that future is someone else’s, with her sort of tacked on as part of the decor.  We also see that Lydia is far from hesitant or shy; she teases and jokes and rolls her eyes, but is careful to never actually show (or even feel) any real anger or upset at the world around her. basically it’s like she’s on thin ice all the time, as toothless as the Rosiers might seem at first glance, aside from just being snobs. The scene of her under the rose trellis and by the fountain talking to her brother was the first real image I ever had of Lydia and what she’d be like in this fic. The roses are beautiful- but also completely artificial- they aren’t natural growth, they were forcibly created to bloom so wonderfully with magic and potions. We also get the first hint of Lydia’s metamorphmagus abilities here.

Lyle stands in contrast- the prodigal son to Lydia’s seemingly perfect daughter. Whereas she is always gracious and polite, he’s sullen and rude, acting more like he’s still a teenager than a 30 year old man.  Lydia says “They wouldn’t even know me” in reference to guests showing up early- suggesting that the face she was just speaking to Lyle with is not necessarily the same one she’s about to put on for the party. The one real concern Lyle seems to show is that Lydia might forget to wear her engagement ring- she doesn’t seem to go around wearing it at home, which already tells us a lot about her relationship with Tom, and it is odd that in this one regard Lyle seems actually concerned- does he worry about Lydia’s interactions with Tom for her sake or his own? The ring is very much a product of the time period- it’s not an antique or heirloom like many pureblooded engagement rings might be, it’s brand spanking new, something Lydia is not at all bothered by- she clearly doesn’t mind that Tom isn’t like the other supposedly pureblood men she knows, and she is spiteful about the fact that others are jealous of her luck in becoming engaged to someone slated to become the Minister for Magic. We then find out she is just 23- very young compared to many of the other adult characters. On the other hand, we also get the sense that Lydia is looking forward to this marriage to Tom- she may not have had a say in the matter, but she certainly doesn’t view it with much trepidation or disgust, whether she actually likes spending time with him or not. She is also very aware that their engagement is part of the political machine- it looks better for Tom to marry into one of the Sacred 28 families, so that’s exactly what he’s doing, and she happens to be the lucky young lady. She acknowledges that her parents have put their faith in him to help bring back an era of grandeur and power, but expresses little interest in that herself, having more focus on the future and what it holds for her personally. Lydia then literally does up her face, which is pretty much suited to the ideal beauty standards for the time period- peaches and cream complexion, thick, light hair, small nose, thin eyebrows, dark lashes and pink lips. It’s not about what she likes, it’s about what other people expect and want to see, and, as she notes, what Tom in particular seems to like- she’s already picked up on some of that. We then get a brief flashback to their first meeting when Lydia was just nineteen and Tom twenty-six; how easily he charmed her parents and how interesting she found him, mostly because he wasn’t all over her or condescending to her.  Tom is very particular about who he accepts drinks from, we see. And barely a few hours after being introduced to this man, Lydia is pretty certain she’s going to end up married to him- not because she’s falling in love, but because she knows her parents will be in favor of the match due to Tom’s political connections and rising star in the Ministry- plus the wealth it promises to bring to the family. Lydia’s reaction to this, we see, wasn’t anger or fear but general apathy. ‘Oh well,’ she seems to think. ‘Better him than someone worse.’ This doesn’t seem to be a very normal reaction for a young woman, even from a pureblood family- Lydia comes across as deeply pragmatic to her very core right from the start. We then see that Lydia has, in fact, heard of Amy, surprise surprise, but any mention of Tom and Amy’s very peculiar relationship in school has been reduced to the assumption that it was a hormonal fling.  Then we finally get the party started; “No one picks a wallflower” Lydia’s mother warns her, but Cordelia has nothing to worry about- Lydia knows how to command a room and has zero issues flattering and chatting with whoever comes her way. We see more of what she finds appealing about Tom- he’s not lusting after her or forcing awkward conversations about their future, he mostly leaves her alone unless he needs her for something, which Lydia seems to prefer. For all her social graces, she seems to be a deeply solitary person who’s used to confiding in no one but herself.  Tom shows up with the Princes here, and Lydia greets him like the perfect 50s housewife with a drink in hand and a kiss on the cheek. Together they put on a very cute show of young love for the Princes, and then later reunite to talk business. They discuss how things are looking good for Tom in the polls, and then Lydia does seem to express a genuine interest in something for the first time all night, and asks if they can dance. As it turns out, she really does like to dance. She also likes to needle Tom a little- she takes a risk in bringing up Amy at all, mostly so she can judge his reaction. Tom could have headed the whole thing off had he been able to shrug and go ‘who?’. Instead he reacts as if electrocuted, which really tells Lydia all she needs to know. Whoever this Amy Benson is, she and Tom have some unfinished business.  Lydia quickly changes the topic, sensing Tom’s not happy to have been asked about Amy, and tells him she’s missed him. Is this true? Tom seems doubtful, but they agree that love often revolves around people entering and leaving each other’s lives, only to pop back up again. Wow, what could that be foreshadowing?

[omgrachwrites]

May Queen (Loki Laufeyson)

Pairing: OC x Loki

Summary: Astrid, the princess of Vanaheimr relocates to Asgard to seal a betrothal to the youngest prince. She soon finds happiness and a multitude of new friends. Unfortunately treachery and deceit lie in the court of Asgard in unlikely places, and she learns that true love never dies.

Warnings: fluff, little bit of angst, mentions of blood

Words: 2198

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this first part and please let me know what you think! I love you all very much! xxx

Part One - Lady of the Forest

The ten year old prince of Asgard was perched at the window seat in the palace’s library; the sun through the stained glass of the window was casting dusty pillars of light over Loki’s head as he pored through his tome. He’d taken to reading in the library of late, he was nearly always solitary – sometimes his mother Frigga would read to him, the sun making her hair shine like soft spun gold.

Loki had hated being on his own at first, his best friend and brother – and the future king – Thor had started to join their father when he convened his small council despite Thor’s tender age. Father had said that it would be better for Thor to learn what it means to be a king sooner rather than later. Loki would never have to carry out the burden of ruling the kingdom when their father passed so Loki was never allowed to attend the council meetings.

Loki remembered when his mother had appealed to father, begging him to keep Thor from the council meetings until he was at least of aged. Father wouldn’t hear of it though and their quarrel had lasted for days.

The young prince was completely immersed in his book which a travelling merchant had collected from Midgard and he’d presented it before the princes as a gift. It was based in a land where magic was forbidden and the servant to the king was a sorcerer. The tale was wondrous and fraught with spectacles but one thing confused Loki. The Queen who was clearly married to the King was in love with one of the knights. He couldn’t understand how she could love two men at once. However, it was a detail that Loki was forced to overlook.

The golden gilded door to the library opened as quiet as a whisper and his mother was smiling at him from her place in the doorway. Frigga looked especially radiant today in swirling skirts of leaf green silks and her golden hair fell past her shoulders in elaborate curls. Not for the first time Loki reflected on the fact that he really didn’t look like his mother with his inky black hair and ice blue eyes but he knew that Frigga loved him all the same.

“Hello mother,” Loki spoke pleasantly as he lifted his eyes from the yellowed pages of his book, closing it with a snap.

“Hello sweetling,” Frigga smiled and placed a hand in her son’s hair, “I’m going for a ride in the forest beyond Asgard, would you care to join me?”

“I would be delighted mother,” he beamed, the enchanted forest was his favourite place to be, in every season, even when thick snow concealed the green blades of grass and the trees were stripped of their previously burnt orange leaves, “is Thor coming too?”

His mother’s face didn’t change but he saw the light dwindle in her eyes slightly and somehow he knew the answer, “he’s in a council meeting with your father darling, I’m sorry.”

Loki nodded as he placed his book back on the shelf and he refused to acknowledge his mother’s sympathetic eyes or the pain in his heart as he followed Frigga to the stables. The prince grinned as he rode his white pony at a steady pace, the warm air smelled of grass and the perfume of the summer flowers. Personally, Loki preferred the winter flowers, he liked the fact that they grew even when the climate was unforgiving.

Loki would never admit it out loud – it was a secret just for himself – bit he was almost glad that Thor couldn’t come. Even at his young age Thor was raucous and was always singing bawdy songs. Thor was far too loud for the enchanted forest; Loki could sense the magic that dwelled within the thicket of trees. Loki’s ears nearly pricked up as he heard the trickle of the babbling brook.

“Might I ride on mother? Towards the brook,” he asked in a whisper, not wanting to disturb the beautiful peace. The Queen graced him with a smile as she glanced to the small array of guards who had sworn to protect them.

“As you wish sweetling, but do be careful.”

With a quick promise and a beaming grin that reached his eyes he rode past the trees and into the clearing. With a startling feeling of shock he saw that he wasn’t the only one who had come to visit the trickling stream and see all the flowers in bloom. She seemed to be of an age with Loki, she was dipping her feet in the clear water.

She had long icy blue hair that reached the floor and the hem of her dress seemed to be purely crafted out of white roses. Her eyes were pointed at the top rather than rounded but what really entranced Loki were the pearly wings protruding from her back, glistening pink and green even in the shadow of the trees.

He’d heard of the Fae that lived deep in the forest but Loki had never thought to see one. Suddenly, his snow white pony snorted impatiently, tossing its thick mane. The fairy gasped in a sweet voice as she lifted her beautiful head to see Loki and she made to run deeper into the trees, gathering up her skirts.

“Wait! Please!” he blurted, finally finding his voice as he clumsily vaulted off his steed, “I’m not going to hurt you,” he held up his hands to show her that he had no weapons.

“You’re not?” she questioned as she narrowed her hazel eyes at him suspiciously but she seemed to feel safe enough to approach him slightly.

“Of course not,” he smiled at her.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice was sweet like warm honey.

“I’m Loki, Prince of Asgard,” he gave her a bow which she giggled at; it was hauntingly beautiful, just like music, “who might you be?”

“My name’s Mara.”

“Are you a princess my lady?” he asked, she was certainly beautiful enough to be one, “you are very fair,” he’d overheard Thor talk that way to the young ladies of the court, who had rewarded him with a blush and a giggle. Mara didn’t giggle again but a patch of pink spread from the apples of her cheeks, all the way to her ears.

“No, I’m not a princess, my prince,” she smiled.

The prince and the fairy were soon sitting side by side on the bank of the stream; Loki only rose from his place on the springy grass when his mother called out for him

“You will come back won’t you?” she asked in a hushed tone, looking apprehensive as if she had expected Loki to say no, “please don’t tell anybody about me.”

“I’ll come back and on my honour, I won’t speak a word about you,” he promised as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her hand and in the next moment he was gone.

True to his word, Loki came back to her as often as he could for the next few years, Loki only grew more handsome and Mara more beautiful. When they were fourteen years old Loki almost told her that he loved her. At fifteen they shared a kiss that was full of hesitance and childish laughter. About a week after his sixteenth name day he rode out to their secret grove, today was the day, he was going to tell the fairy that he loved her.

When he arrived at the grove he saw – which was most unusual – that Mara was not there, “Mara?” he called and his voice echoed, “Mara, please, this isn’t amusing!” once again he was met by silence. He called her name over and over until he was close to tears, yet she still wouldn’t come.

His heart leapt for joy when he heard a rustle in the bushes, “Mara?” he called again but this time he had much more hope in his voice. He heard a harsh giggle that sounded nothing like his fairy’s tinkling laugh. About a moment later two people came stumbling out of the surrounding bushes. He recognised the auburn haired girl from the palace and of course he recognised his brother who was lacing his pants back up.

When Thor saw Loki standing there, his eyes grew wide as he saw the thunderous look on Loki’s face, Thor had defiled the most sacred of places, “brother,” he began but Loki mounted his horse and shooting his brother a filthy look he rode away without a word.

When Loki had arrived back at the palace he felt empty and he vowed never to go back to the grove. He had once thought the grove blessed and beautiful but now he knew that it was cursed.

——————————————————-

Astrid sat by her high windows and looked out at the palace grounds, she saw the beauty of them and the sight of the albino peacocks patrolling but they didn’t fill her with joy as they normally did. All she saw was ghosts of but a week past. Her best friend and her handmaiden had been caught stealing from Astrid’s chambers.

Although she had felt devastatingly betrayed she still had pleaded with her mother to let the girl go without punishment. The loss of her job would be punishment enough. Surprisingly, her mother conceded and dismissed the girl though Astrid knew that mother would have taken a hand if she could. It was the customary punishment for a thief.

The princess had watched from her window as they carted away her former handmaiden. She did not cry though, she couldn’t, it was though all her tears had dried up before she could shed them. Instead, she drew the curtains around her bed and slept, never knowing whether it was day or night.

A soft knock came at the door of her chambers, “are you decent my lady?” she recognised the voice and she could almost see the smirk on his handsome face.

“Come in Erik,” she smiled as the door creaked open and she smiled at the handsome youth with fire in his hair and the stars in his eyes.

“The Queen requests your presence in her solar princess,” he offered her his arm which took away the slight sting that he’d not come just to see her. With a graceful smile she took the young knight’s arm and they walked down the long winding corridors.

“How have you been my lady? I was sorry to hear about the unfortunate situation with your handmaiden.”

“I was too Sir,” she replied bluntly, she truly didn’t know how she felt so she couldn’t possibly tell Erik.

Inside of her mother’s solar there was a pretty young girl who seemed to be the same age as Astrid. She was shaking from fear as she glanced about the room with its rich velvet tapestries and endless walls of books which had been the late King’s.

“We found her unconscious in the forest princess,” the Captain of the guard told her.

The girl’s golden hair was matted and Astrid saw with alarm that her face was bruised and bloody. Astrid hoped that the guards had treated this stranger gently. This was a time for the princess to be especially gentle and kind, slowly she glided towards the gold backed chair that the stranger was sitting in and Astrid took the girl’s hands.

“What’s your name?” Astrid smiled gently to show the girl that she was no threat, soft hazel eyes looked at her in fear then glanced around at the guards that were stationed around the room.

“Everybody out. Now.” She ordered and raised an eyebrow, almost daring the guards to challenge her, “you too mother,” the Queen was a kind woman but she had a rather stern face. The guards looked annoyed but they left without another word. However, Astrid’s mother gave her a proud look as she departed from the room.

“My name’s Mara, if it please you, my lady,” the girl whispered in a broken voice, “it was as the guards told you, they found me unconscious in the forest,” her eyes grew misty with tears, now that she’d started talking she couldn’t seem to stop, “I lost my family.”

Astrid felt saddened for Mara, “do you have anywhere else that you can go?”

Pearly tears fell from Mara’s eyes as she shook her head, “nowhere would want me.”

Mara seemed so distressed and exhausted that Astrid had to send for a healer to take Mara to the spare chambers so she could sleep. Later on, Astrid was feasting with her mother in the conservatory that overlooked the clear blue lake and the snow-capped mountains. The smell of summer wine was on the air and sweet music played.

“It seems to me that you are in need of a new handmaiden my darling,” her mother began, “and one that has nowhere to go and owes you her life seems to be the right one for the job. A sweet notion.

“I was thinking the same mother,” Astrid beamed, elated that she was finally thinking like a leader.

——————————————————- 

@theonelittleone @void-imaginations

[loveforpreserumsteve]

The Chilling Adventures of Steve Rogers: Part One (Magical Hydra Horror AU)

Thirty-Eight:

With the sound of the large door shutting and leaving Steve in complete and total dark silence. Not to mention blind. Steve shuddered as he thought about how this could be his future if he didn't sign his name in Hydra's book and didn't go through with his terrigenesis. After all, his body was already in poor shape. Of course, the natural progression would be for his body to get worse.

Don't you want to be strong?

Don't you want to be healthy?

For Bucky?

Steve's mind conjured up the perfect image of Bucky. The way the brunet looked during the summer with his skin tan, turning pink the longer he stayed in the sun. How his steel-blue eyes would sparkle like the lake water when the sun reflected on it like glass. It was some of Steve's favorite times with Bucky. The way Bucky would wrap his arms around Steve and toss him in the refreshing water before jumping in after and pulling Steve's shivering frame close, just to hold him.

Or winter Bucky in his cozy hand-knitted sweaters Bubbe Ava and Winifred made him. His cheeks rosy in the cool wind. Curls popping up in his tousled brown hair as it stuck to his head from his stocking hats. Holding hands and still feeling the warmth through the layers of thick mittens. Playfully forming snowballs and tossing them at each other. Bucky wrapping Steve up in his arms to warm him up after being out in the cold with a soft blanket and a large cup of hot cocoa.

Surprise kisses in the hallway in between classes. Holding the passenger door open for him in exchange for a kiss to the cheek. Hands together, fingers laced as Bucky drove them home. Forgotten homework and making out because Steve's uncles didn't make them leave the door open.

Bucky's body over his, crowding close. Kisses trailing up the column of his neck. Nipping at his earlobe. Whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Pressing their bodies together. Experiencing that form of love for the first time together. The way Bucky pushed Steve's hair away from his face with tender touches. Leaning in to kiss his forehead. Gentle eyes lovingly gazing into his. Both unspoken and spoken promises of forever.

The way Bucky's eyes burned with a protective fury whenever Steve decided to get involved with someone else's business and ended up with a broken nose. Or more likely, a black eye. Blood dripping from his nose or a busted lip and Bucky giving him ice to place on his swelling face. The attractive way that Bucky's jaw clenched as he tried not to lecture Steve for the umpteenth time about not getting into fights while he affectionately dressed Steve's wounds.

Bucky deserves someone who can keep up with him.

Bucky deserves someone who won't need to be taken care of.

Bucky deserves better.

Nodding along, Steve couldn't help but agree. Bucky did deserve someone strong. Someone healthy. Someone who kept up with him. Someone who could take care of himself. Someone who would never need Bucky to come clean up a mess that they made.

Someone who could protect Bucky.

Someone who could --

Steve paused. Why was he thinking about this? Sure, he knew that Bucky deserved better. But Steve had always thought that. Bucky was one of the best people that Steve had ever met, so of course, Steve thought that Bucky deserved the best. It was only natural for Steve to think that. But Steve also knew that he'd do his damnedest to be the best that he could be. Because Bucky deserved it.

You can be what he deserves.

Sitting up a little straighter, Steve glanced around the damp, dark cell. It was clear that those weren't his thoughts. Sure, he had had them on occasion. But this was… odd.

Although Steve couldn't see anything and he doubted that he'd be able to even if he had his glasses, Steve decided to move backwards. Figuring that if anything, he could protect his back. Be less vulnerable that way. If he was going to be there for a while until his new roommates decided to release him, he might as well make himself feel safer. Even if it was a false safety.

Don't you want to reach your full potential?

Don't you want to be the best you?

For Bucky?

Shaking his head, Steve hoped to shake the thoughts right out of his head. Which Steve knew was ridiculous. It never worked normally, so it wasn't a surprise that it didn't work then. Instead of just remaining the same as it was though, it decided to get worse.

"Wouldn't it feel so nice to be the man that you've always wanted to be?" A gravelly voice roughly whispered in his ear.

Steve's heart stuttered and his breath hitched. Not sure what was worse, having the thoughts slither into his mind or have the voice say them directly into his ear. So close that Steve could feel a breath on the back of his neck.

"Be the man that Bucky has always wanted you to be?" The deep melodic tone continued.

With dirt caked hands, Steve lifted his hands up to his head. Covering his ears with his unsanitary hands, Steve wanted nothing more than to make it all stop. Make it stop before it got worse. Because Steve knew that this was only the beginning. Knowing that it was bound to get worse because that was what The Hell-Beast's Cell was all about. The whole point of it. Exactly why Steve's new roommates put him there.

The Hell-Beast's Cell was meant to break him.

Realizing that and thinking about all the people who were broken here, Steve's lungs collapsed. Or at least, that's what it felt like as he suddenly found himself struggling for breath.

Grasping at his chest, his knuckles turned white as he twisted the material of his sleep shirt into his unclenching fist. There wasn't anything that Steve could do either. He was meant to break. He was meant to hand his unwavering faith and soul over to Alveus and become a Hive mind.

Or die.

It was clear now that Steve never really had a choice in any of this. Either he joined Hydra. Or he ceased to exist.

"Don't you want to be able to protect Bucky?"

Don't you want to be able to protect Bucky?

Still struggling to catch his breath, it felt like a hand was wrapped around his neck. The hand of Hydra restricting his airways. What if he decided he'd rather die? Would they just let him die? Would there be any repercussion? Did anyone know that he was there?

He should've kept his glasses on.

He should've carried his inhaler in his pajama pants pockets.

He should've ran away from home.

He should've.

[snowycrocus]

Frozen Fanfiction “Such a Cost” Ch.2/? Elsa Sacrifices her Magic to Save Anna

Start with part one here.

The first time that Anna felt the pain – the sharp, biting burst of cold – she was alone.

It shot through her heart, quick as a flash of lightening, and was gone almost as quickly as it had come.

Anna shrugged, shook her head, and didn’t think any more of it, rising from her bed to begin her day as usual.

The next time when it came, a few weeks later, Anna had joined Kristoff in feeding Sven and cleaning his stall.

A sharp gasp led Kristoff to whip around to search for the source of the sound- Anna, fist over her heart as she hunched over in pain, lost her grip on the carrot which rolled along the floor. She gulped in a breath to attempt to calm the fluttering of her heart and the lack of air.

“Anna!” Kristoff cried, his rough palm squeezing her arms. “What’s wrong?”

But the pain had come and gone again, just like last time. So short-lived it wasn’t even worth mentioning.

She tried to brush it off, bending to retrieve the fallen carrot and offering it to Sven once more. “Must’ve just pulled a muscle or something.”

Kristoff glanced at her concernedly, but accepted her explanation and continued to sweep.

The third time the pain struck, Anna wasn’t as lucky.

She was sitting in on a meeting with her sister and their council. Elsa was mid-sentence when the twinge lanced through Anna’s chest, and she must have made some kind of strangulated noise because Elsa stopped immediately as all eyes turned to the Princess with concern.

“Anna?” Elsa asked delicately, her eyes wide with worry.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s nothing,” Anna protested, waving the room back to continue their meeting. She faked a raspy cough as she tried to catch her breath over her skipped heartbeats. “Just something in my throat.”

Elsa held her gaze, eyes narrowed in suspicion for a moment before returning to the discussion at hand.

Anna tried to refocus on the meeting, but when she went to jot down some notes and noticed her fingertips were blue, she realized she wasn’t all that able to concentrate any longer.

Her symptoms grew with startling intensity over the next few weeks.

Sporadic, sharp bursts of pain grew to become a near-constant ache in her chest. Besides the pain, her heart felt like it was trying to flutter away like a butterfly with broken wings, leaving Anna struggling to catch her breath when her heart skipped one beat, then two, and then three in quick succession.

Had it been just these symptoms alone, Anna would have called for a doctor. She felt something was….wrong, felt it deep in her bones like a set chill that just wouldn’t leave.

But a doctor couldn’t fix the symptoms she was experiencing. A doctor wouldn’t know what to make of the warning signs that followed.

She began to experience frequent headaches- but not the normal, aching-behind-the-eyes ones that normally would come after too many glasses of wine with dinner. No – these were lancing streaks of ice-cold tendrils that snaked their way into her brain, prickled behind her eyes and threatened to puncture through her skull. Pain so sharp and biting it made her vision blur and lose her words.

At night, Anna shivered and trembled with cold – cold which no number of blankets, socks nor warming pans could touch. She piled on blankets and robes and thick woolen socks – layers and layers of them – yet she shook and shivered and trembled under the piles of fabric and couldn’t help but dream of freezing when she finally would drift off to a fragmented sleep.

It was almost as if the cold were within her- an internal source, rather than an external one.

Her fingertips and ears took on a near-permanent tinge of blue. She took to wearing her hair differently to cover her ears and hid her hands in her skirts to avoid the discoloration being spotted. Her fingers went numb, and rubbing her hands together or cupping them around hot mugs of tea and chocolate only would give a temporary reprieve before the sickly hue returned once more.

So, no, a doctor couldn’t help, she knew.

There was only one person - or perhaps being was a better term - who could help; one person who had done so not once, but twice before.

Fear gripped her heart almost as strongly as the cold. She is not afraid of these warning signs because they are unfamiliar. No – in fact, they are too familiar.

She has felt this all before. It’s just….slower, now.

She has to get to the trolls. She will find her way to them, without anyone else knowing. She will sneak out at night, soon. She just has to plan. She needs time.

She hopes she has enough of it.

And Anna knows she cannot tell anyone, least of all Elsa.

Anna grows used to the hiding – it becomes part of her daily routine. Some powder on her ears, gloves when they can be explained away, an extra jacket and scarf and control of her breathing – all in a day’s work, now.

She takes her lunch with Elsa and Kristoff in the dining room on a day with the sun shining through the windows. The warmth from the sun is heating up the room, yet Anna still represses the shivering she feels inside and spoons hot soup into her mouth, praying for its warmth to spread from her fingers to her toes.

Suddenly, a sharp flash of pain spikes through her heart once again, yet this time it is accompanied by an onslaught of cold so severe that Anna clenches her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

She’s so preoccupied with what she’s feeling that she very nearly misses the clattering of a spoon into a bowl of soup next to her and the tell-tale sign of crackling ice spreading across the tablecloth and freezing the water in their glasses.

“Anna!” Elsa’s voice cries, raw and desperate. She lunges toward her sister, arms outstretched, before catching herself and stepping back, crouched and hunched into herself, hands twining.

Anna looks up in surprise. Elsa hasn’t stepped back from her in months. And why is Kristoff looking at her with that stunned, scared expression?

No one says anything, but Kristoff hands Anna a wide serving spoon with a trembling hand. Anna is confused at first until she realizes that she can see her reflection in the spoon, though it’s a bit distorted.

She takes a look and nearly drops the spoon.

Once again, her hair is streaked with white.

Elsa nearly doesn’t come with them to the Valley of the Hidden Rock, at first.

She’s hunched and trembling, just like she used to be all those months ago. Has it really only been a few months?

She cowers, backed up into the corner of the dining room, shaking like a leaf. Her eyes are wide, scared, like an animal hunted. The air grows cold.

“Did I….?” She whispers. Kristoff and Anna only know what words she speaks by reading her lips from afar. “How?!” The word comes out as a choked, desperate cry. She unclasps her hands to hold them out in front of her, looking at her palms in horror.

Kristoff remembers the rush last time to get Anna to the trolls. There might not be much time now, either, he startlingly realizes. His heart drops, and he grabs her hands. They are ice cold to the touch and he can feel the scrape of frost on hers against his own.

“How long?!” He asks her urgently.

Anna looks away ashamedly, pointedly avoiding Elsa’s direction. “A couple wee-” she pauses, thinking. “-months, now.”

Kristoff sighs, running a hand over his unruly hair and tries not to flinch when Elsa lets out a despairing, painful wail at Anna’s response.

“We gotta get you back to the trolls.” He grabs her arm and pulls her to the door. They both stop in the doorway, turning to look behind them. Elsa is still huddled in the corner, looking after them with frozen tear stains on her cheeks.

“C’mon, Elsa, let’s go,” Kristoff calls almost exasperatedly, his voice rough with tension. “There may not be much time.”

Elsa flinches again at the reminder. “No.” Her voice is raw and hoarse. “I – I shouldn’t. Go without me. Bring her home safe again. Please.”

“Elsa,” Anna calls to her. “You know I need you there. You didn’t do anything!” This isn’t – it can’t be your fault.”

Elsa’s gaze falls back to her hands. “How – how can it not be?”

Kristoff’s mouth sets into a hard line. “I don’t know,” he admits. “But whatever it’s from, we probably don’t have much time to figure it out. Let’s go.” 

Alright, any thoughts on what’s going on, here? Guesses? I’m eager to hear your suspicions. *grins madly*

Hint: As I’ve told some of you already, Elsa didn’t *do* anything.

Please please let me know what you think of the chapter! I love to hear any words/comments/tags you care to share, each one means so much! <3

Tagging those of you that commented and/or reblogged for the previous chapter- let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in the future (or if you really do!)

@butimaloneandfree, @elsaannasnowqueen, @luna-and-mars, @above-d-clouds, @habibi18, @thankfullyimgay, @justlookatthosesausages, @frozen-heart101, @lelitachay, @frozenartscapes, @thegeekogecko, @wandering-bard-from-the-id, @maregnbue

[i-see-you-now-you-see-me]

Hello there!

Another part is here! To be fare can be read separately. And the fun is just starting.

P.S- the picture not mine, thanks to owner!

Pairing: BTS Jimin (Fae land Park Jimin) x Reader

Description: Fae land Park Jimin makes the 4 Goddesses pay for real, and finally goes to human world to get his girl...

Warnings: none, really, but death and a bit of evil things, mentions of violence. Future violence, punishing, yandere themes, sex references, a bit of possessive behavior etc.

Word count: 1726 , but it’s still and easy read :D

Y/A/N stands for your ancestors name

*** Fae Lands 2018***

He walked through the gates of his kingdom, it’s been long since he felt like home. The Goddess of Nature had made some changes, it was now snowing heavily and Jimin enjoyed the cold caressing his skin.

They will pay for this.

They trapped him, and Jimin will make sure they suffer. The Goddesses are not invincible, they might not be alive, but they have weak spots like everybody else.

-My God, - a lady saw Jimin and ran towards, - master!

Some of his other staff members ran towards and bowed, some even on their knees. When Jimin walked closer to his castle he felt watched. The Goddesses must be watching him return to his normal life. He didn’t know what year it was, all he wanted was just revenge.

Later, sitting in his throne room, his guards announced a guest and his father walked in.

-My son, - he said and bowed down, - it’s been so long.

-Father, - Jimin approached his father, - you didn’t look for me?

His father stiffened. He couldn’t deny that when Jimin was gone, a bit of him was relieved, Jimin’s hot temper was known almost everywhere.

-The portal was closed on our side of the Kingdom, - king said, - The Goddesses closed it, so my people didn’t get a chance to wander away from the Fae lands.

-What about other kingdoms? – Jimin asked as he walked back to sit on his throne.

-I was not allowed to go anywhere but the nearest villages and farms, the Goddesses made protection spells all around, so I wouldn’t get anywhere… - his father sighed, - how did you get out? Where did they leave you? I tried to come to your castle, but it was impossible to …

-Stop it, father, - Jimin’s stare was as cold as ice, - they froze me with magic in the same cave the meeting was held, and they froze my kingdom together with me… I just don’t seem to understand, what was the reason behind it?

He looked up to his father with teary eyes, but they didn’t reflect any emotions.

Even before Jimin reached maturity, his teachers had mentioned a lot of times, that he was menacing and merciless to his victims, a disturbing appearance when he smirked. The way he killed, as if he had this lust for blood and the pain he inflicted, was consuming him to the bone.

His father didn’t know much, he just knew, that Jimin would be a deadly assassin, that’s what the fortune teller had said, when his wife was expecting the baby. They told them, that this special baby boy would master his skills to perfection and use it to his advantages, throwing people around, killing and not caring after all.

At first his wife- the Queen, wouldn’t even look at Jimin, but soon after her heart melted, and she cared for the boy.

-My dark Fae blood… is that it? – Jimin asked. His mother was from light Fae and his father from dark Fae’s, their union most powerful. – If you would allow me to get back to my business now, I would much appreciate it.

The guards came in and took the king with them. Last thing the king saw was the wicked smile of his son’s and the laugh before closing doors.

-I want the Goddesses here now, let’s have a chat, shall we?

Jimin had mastered a perfect plan, using a spell that binds the Goddesses to a human body, you kill the body they are trapped in, and they die together.

He chose four women from his kingdom, to be possessed when the goddesses would drink the wine, that had a little something in them for the spell to work, and Jimin was sure, they wouldn’t want to make him angry.

The doors flew opened and the Goddesses levitated inside.

Jimin was sat at the table with a glass in his hands. His silver hair a bit messy, he bit his lip in anticipation. This is going to be fun.

The drugged bodies of four women where just behind his throne, behind a curtain, a spell hiding them that the Goddesses wouldn’t know anything.

-Jimin? – one of them spoke, -what a surprise?!

-Please, sit down, - Jimin said and smiled, offering, - wine?

-Yes, please, - the Goddesses played dumb, thinking of a possible reason, why Jimin has them here now, if he knew they trapped him all those years ago. – So, tell us, prince Jimin, why are we here?

He waited a few moments taking a sip from his own glass and saw how all the four ladies drank a bit. He didn’t need much; the effect was supposed to be quick. When he saw them look at each other in confusion, he lifted the spell and soon the guards tied up all four women to chairs.

-What is happening? -  one of them asked, trying to get loose of the ties. Jimin smiled. He was so proud of what he had done.

-Think about what you are doing, Jimin! – one of them shouted.

-Oh, trust me, I know what I am doing. I am punishing the responsible. You froze me for 300 years, I used all my Fae power to break free, and look, here I am. So, what do you think? How powerful am I? I thought about it for a really, really long time… why would all of you try to get rid of me… huh… and then I understood.

Jimin drank his wine and opened a book, that he had left nearby.

-It’s because I am more powerful than the four of you together, I can kill you without hesitation and you have foreseen it, haven’t you? I mean, you didn’t know why I would kill you, but here is the reason… it’s your own fault after all.

-We can help you, Jimin, - another spoke.

-You…- Jimin laughed bitterly, - I don’t need your help.

With a snap of his fingers the speaker’s neck was broken and her body burned to ashes. Jimin didn’t waste no time.

-What is the spell that has the portal closed, huh?

The three goddesses stayed quiet, not making a sound.

-Don’t make me repeat myself, - he spoke and continued to browse through pages of the magical spell book. – you know, I used to be very patient.

And when the second woman screamed in pain, the other two were trying to choke sobs. Her body trembling, she was being burned from the inside, and then gone completely. Jimin took another sip. Then the Goddess of Nature spoke softly.

-Y/A/N … - Jimin sat on the edge of his chair.

-What about her? – he spat in anger.

-You still want her, right? – the other Goddess spoke.

Jimin bit the inside of his cheek. She needed to suffer as well for what she had done.

-Let me show you, - she spoke, and Jimin let her loose.

-One wrong move and your friend dies, - Jimin held his fingers up.

The Goddess walked closer to one of the mirrors that were lined up on the wall. She moved her hand up and the mirror showed a clear picture of a girl, that looked a lot like Y/A/N. Jimin was there in an instant staring at it.

-How is this… possible? – she was a mortal woman, how was she alive? Was she into witchcraft? No wonder how she made a deal with the Fae land Goddesses.

All sorts of things were mixing in Jimin’s head, more and more being clouded by the anger he felt.

-I can help you locate her, - the Goddess spoke and Jimin snapped his fingers killing the other Goddess sat at the chair. She screeched running forward to the goddess who was tied up, was on her knees when she vanished and cried.

Jimin chanted a spell, that bound her soul to the mortal woman’s body, and stripped her of all the magic she possessed.

-I will keep you by my side, so maybe we shall exchange our names, you can call me prince Jimin, - he smiled. The Goddess of Nature was no longer a Goddess, she was a simple, mortal woman now, thanks to Jimin’s powers.

-Dacia, - she spoke, - my name is Dacia Rose and I shall be your servant till the day I die…

*** 2020, BTS fan sign ***

Fae land Jimin had finally found a loophole closer to the place you stayed in. The shopping center was once a gate between two lands, and you were this close to being his.

Your friend nudged you playfully.

-Just a bit left.

The stage was this close, you could almost smell the after shave the guys were using. Your friend took pictures of Namjoon from afar and you thought it would be a good idea to get some of Jimin.

As you took out your phone a blast of lighting happened, and the table, where BTS sat down flew up in the air, making Jin scream like a woman, and the rest of the guys all holding to each other.

Then everything felt like in slow motion.

Your friend called out your name, holding onto your arm, and pointing to where the light came from. Security seemed to be stuck, and you noticed that no one could move, and a magical dome came over all of the fans that were inside.

You held your hands together, both your friends looking around to see what was happening, and then there it was. The portal opened and a figure stepped through. BTS guys looked stunned, Fae world Jimin was looking directly at BTS Jimin and smirked. Then he turned around, and more than ten other people came from the portal as well, dressed up as ninjas, all in black clothing.

Fans were shocked, when in their front stood not one, but two Park Jimin’s looking almost exactly the same, and unexpectedly you met his eyes, feeling like he was staring directly at you, his eyes flashing to different colors from all the magic he possesses.

-Hello there, humans, - Jimin spoke, and a handful of ninjas went over to BTS and trapped them with their weapons, - I suggest you don’t move, and do as I say. 

That’s the end of part 3 , hope you like it, thank you for all the likes before, I appreciate it.