#cannot help it... am simple creature...i see luci...i like....

[luci-four]

request: i was thinking maybe something cute of playing with lucifer or beel's hair? maybe for lucifer it's after he falls asleep on his desk from overworking himself and for beel after he takes a shower when he comes back from the gym or something? idk, i'm just in a fluffy mood

A/N: fuck, under this hard exterior all there is is fluff; 22 fluff hours a day baby *fingerguns*  under the cut for length!!

★・・・★ LUCIFER★・・・★

His eyes were growing incredibly heavy. It wasn’t very often that he allowed himself to be so vulnerable and fall asleep anywhere besides his bed, especially if there were the slightest possibility of someone seeing him in such a state. Unfortunately for him, this was one of the times he had to curse himself for not getting the proper rest.

Lucifer had no idea when he fell asleep. He could feel that he was in an in-between state, but he just couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes; Something kept lulling him back to the line of unconsciousness but the feeling of something out of the ordinary kept him from returning to the blissful sleep. What was it? It was warm, calming, inviting, but certainly not something he was used to. Very slowly, he willed himself to open his eyes, though his vision had remained blurry. He squinted hard, eyebrows drawing together as he attempted to piece together the vision in front of him and process just what he had been feeling.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

The voice was just as soothing as the sleep had been, he decided, as he closed his eyes once more. He half-heartedly cleared his throat and spoke low and slow.

“No. I’ve been awake.”

“It certainly doesn’t look that way.”

Who had he been talking to? His confusion started to sober him up; He started to decipher just what he had been feeling—a hand had been raking through his hair ever so smoothly, pushing stray pieces away from his face. Feeling slightly embarrassed at the realization, he opened his eyes once again, cautiously, to meet MC’s.

“I certainly was asleep. Do you really believe I’d allow anyone to see me sleep?” He gave a tired smirk, “There’s no way.”

“Ah, I see.” They gave him an equally playful smirk, “So you weren’t snoring?”

“I definitely did not do that.”

“Then you also didn’t start talking in your sleep?”

“I did no such thing–”

“Hmm. So, you definitely weren’t confessing your secret love–”

“I think you should seriously consider your next words.”

Though he threatened them, he couldn’t help but get embarrassed and look away from them, instinctively tightening his shoulders and shying away from their touch. He sighed; Sitting up straight and looking the mess among his desk—papers had been strung everywhere, some crumpled from his nap, some had fallen to the floor. Before he could immediately go back to working, MC had thrown their arm out across the desk.

“Wow, you’ve got a major case of bedhead.”

“I always look presentable.”

“Yeah if ‘presentable’ meant extreme bedhead and a sticky note stuck to your face.” Lucifer immediately felt around to brush the note off of his face. “Why don’t you just call it a night and get in bed?”

His dark eyes scanned their face, evaluating how genuine they were. The smile they gave him had tones of concern, their eyes fixating on the messy state of his hair before extending their hand once again to brush through it softly and whisper.

“Come on. Even you need rest.”

A small, sincere smile tugged at the corners of his lips while he enjoyed the feeling of their nails just slightly scraping against the peak of his jaw each time they brought their hand down just a bit longer before holding it against his cheek.

“Alright. But, only if you join me. Could you do whatever you did when I was just resting my eyes a while ago?”

★・・・★ BEELZEBUB★・・・★

“Um, Beel?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s… going on?”

“Wha do you meanf?”  

“Please finish before you talk,” MC laughed, gingerly wiping the stray food from his face.

Beelzebub swallowed hard and turned his body towards them, glancing between their eyes and the plate of food surprisingly still in front of him.

“What do you mean?”

“I meant with this,” they ruffled his hair, “it’s normally pretty unruly, but today it’s extra… fluffy.”

“Fluffy?”

“Fluffy!”

“Like… cotton candy?”

“More like if you blow-dry a baby duck.”

“Mmm… duck.”

“Beel!”

“Guess it happened after my shower. I didn’t pay much attention. Is it that bad?”

MC’s lips curved into a sweet smile and shook their head. They couldn’t keep their hands to themselves; They tousled his hair, continuously running their fingers through it. It was soft, almost fuzzy, and certainly didn’t enjoy trying to be tamed. Beel watched them for a while before slowly turning to continue eating, allowing them to do as they pleased.

He had to admit, it was a nice feeling; Calming, kind, and very affectionate—it managed to slow his eating down, even for a slight moment. Beelzebub heard them laugh a bit to themselves before they started to quickly—and almost aggressively—rub their hands back and forth through his hair.

“MC?”

With an innocent smile, they moved their hands away and held up one finger with a silent, threatening aura. He looked at it curiously, cocking his head to the side as it slowly came closer to his face. What were they trying to do? Eyes going cross, he watched their finger inch towards the tip of his nose until he could no longer see it, and felt the sharp jolt of electricity instead.

“…Ow.”  

“Did it really hurt?”

“No.” He smiled and wrapped his arms around their waist, pulling them close, “Was it supposed to?”

“Hmm, I guess not,” they leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose, “How about that?”

“Definitely not.”

He continued leaning in, silently asking for them to continue placing kisses across his face until he turned to nuzzle against the crook of their neck instead. He hadn’t realized just how much his hair had rubbed against the underneath of their jaw, however, as the next brush of his nose against their neck elicited a sharp gasp from them.  

“You shocked me!”

“I’m sorry.”  

“Are you?”

“At least a little bit.”  

That got them to laugh, the sweet sound vibrating through their chest and causing his heartbeat to match the frequency. He couldn’t help but laugh as well, the both of them taking their time to settle to a comforting silence once again; Until another sort of vibration ripped through his body.

“I’m hungry.”

[kabane52]

Etymology and Ontology

Peter Leithart’s chapter in “Deep Exegesis” on etymology and its significance is earth-shattering. Contrary to those who argue that a word’s history is essentially irrelevant to its meaning in any given text, Leithart follows the biblical authors (who often gave etymologies) in seeing its history as an intrinsic quality of its essence and thus significant in giving a comprehensive account of a text’s meaning. Authorial intent plays a governing role in the meaning of a text, but no text’s meaning is limited to the conscious intent of the author.

This raises the question of what language is. I think we tend to assume that language is a mere tool or instrument- it is meant to facilitate communication between rational subjects. Those who consider it at greater length will realize that it is also an instrument of thinking in a single rational subject. The grammar of the world around us is made internally intelligible through language. But what if language was more than this? What if language itself was one of the ends for which God created the world and Man in relation to the world? I think

Consider notion of magic (which I am not here using to identify unlawful sorcery) and recall the deep connection in creation between music and ontology. At the birth of Narnia, the Deep Magic which the Emperor puts into Narnia is placed therein through Aslan’s *song.* That song has different rhythms according to the different things being created. Each creature has its unique qualities on account of its different mode of being. Etymology provides many interesting windows into the inner logic of these concepts. Yet I do not think the relation of two similar words conceptually depends, necessarily, on a concrete historical relation. When two distinct words evolve convergently, I think this is internal to the structure of language as an exposition of the world: their convergence manifests a deeper conceptual convergence. Their similar sounds are then exploited in poetry and puns.

Here is just a sampling:

Music: Music is derived from “Muses” which is in Hellenistic thought the heavenly energy which indwells the poet or artist, granting him the ability to fashion aesthetically rich imprints of the world. The splendor of Greek history is imprinted in the Iliad through the operation of the Muses. In fact, the Apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 12 echoes (to my mind, quite clearly) a passage in Plato’s Ion describing the diversity of gifts granted through the Muses. A better analogy than “laws of nature” is “music of nature.” The laws of nature are not prescriptive: they are *descriptive* of how things behave. The *cause* of that behavior is unstated and unknown to the naturalist. The Muses is from Heaven: it is the pattern of the harmony which makes the world what it is. The Divine Musician teaches His children how to play the music which makes the world.

-

Mode- Think of what I said above about different creatures being different modes in which things exist. Well, “mode” ultimately comes from “modus” which means, among other things, *rhythm* and even *song.* It is a particular pattern in which the music of the cosmos is harmonized and played by the Almighty.

-

Magic: Various words associated with magic are still in use: magistrate, for example. One thinks of the Persian-derived words for the learned priestly class: magus, magi (Latinized plural). The historical etymology has been suggested in a proto-Indo-European word signifying “to have power.” Consider how dominion over the cosmos is linked throughout Scripture with God’s having created it. God is King and Sovereign because He is Creator. Why? Because to be sovereign means that one has the capacity to realize one’s end. And God’s having created something in the first place- His ability to *make something what He wants it to be* entails His continued sovereignty.

When one *makes* something, one has sovereignty over it. Even if one makes something for someone else, it is given to them because one has contracted to use one’s labor for that end. A king has sovereignty over subject lands by right of conquest (or compare Josh 18: “the whole land lay subdued”, used in an allusion to Gen 1.26-28, the dominion mandate) because he has exerted his will to successfully make the land what he wishes it. This is why technological development and conquest in scripture are closely bound together as distinct vibes on the same conceptual key. Joseph, Daniel, and Solomon are superior to the sorcerers because they have received from God the *true* divine wisdom which undergirds the natures of things. Knowing natures as they are, they are successful in exercising dominion. Through the Spirit of God, Joseph is the *true* magistrate who overcomes the sorcery of their magicians. Priests study the Holy Torah, the disclosure of the Words of God which undergird nature. They are the true Magi, granting true Wisdom.

-

Enchanted- from the Latin incantare. In is a preposition meaning “within” and “cantare” is an infinitive of “canto.” The word “canto” is the word “cano” with what Wiktionary calls a “frequentative suffix” (t), indicating a repeated action. “Cano” means “I sing.” The repeition contained in its suffix indicates the ongoing, rhythmic nature of that music. So we have the notion of an ongoing regular piece of music combined with “within.” I think we can see here the intertwining network of concepts giving meaning to “enchantment.” It refers to the *inner essence* of an ongoing song. To put something under an enchantment is to alter its ongoing existence and endow it with new causative and receptive relations. If one enchants a ring to make another fall asleep, one knows the essence of the ring well enough to thread that nature together with a new quality, the quality of making someone fall asleep. So in Narnia ,the Deep Magic is the Deep Music.

Aslan endows his world with a particular sort of existence and a particular network of qualities. The overarching Music is a harmony of many songs or modes, individual rhythms corresponding to particular creatures- all existing in relation to all others and to the Whole  Symphony. The magician, in Narnia, is the one who knows the Deep Magic well enough to alter the world by singing out one’s own tune in relation to the preexisting tune. This is done both for good and for ill- there is the White Witch who knows the essence of the world and the essence of snow well enough to bind snow to Narnia in perpetuity. But there is also Coriakin, who governs the Dufflepuds by altering their qualities according to the needs of the moment. When Lucy takes his book of magic and says the incantation to make invisible things visible, Aslan appears, saying that he will certainly obey his own rules. The patterns of nature are the constantly sung divine Music endowing nature with its qualities. In present primitive terms, the so called “laws of nature.”

-

Words are pronounced with breath and air. It is air which carries sound from speaker to hearer, and the speaker always breathes out air as he speaks. Air, breath, these qualities are the corporeal reality most closely bound together in association with “life.” God created Man not only as an instrument for the glorification of the world, not only as a tool, but as an end. Glorified Man is one of the great ends for which God created the world. And I think we can say that language is like this, too. Language itself is a sacramental beauty, it is something not only to be used, but also to be reveled in. It is not a mere tool to comment upon and understand creation, it is one of the great splendors of creation itself. Language, in a sense, is the very life of Man, whose existence is in the Image and Likeness of God. And God created Man to grow, to develop, to multiply from a single individual into a vast, many-branched family (the link between a “tree” and a “family” is no accident: the righteous is like a “tree planted by streams” and the Kingdom of God is like a cosmic “tree”) through whom the Cosmos is glorious in the resurrection of the World to Come.

Language, the life and breath of Man, is also a cumulative reality. If a language acquires in a single social context two words from two different mother languages representing the same concept, then the only way in which both words survive in the same environment is if they develop a subtle distinction in meaning. And this subtlety simply cannot be reduced to a definition. One word might give away one’s desire to alter a relationship to become less or more formal. Little signals and cues become available as a language flowers and bursts and buds. This is why English is such a beautiful and rich language.

[PS: Let me just say that our “defective” verbal system is one of the wonders of the linguistic world. With the death of th conjugated verb a whole new life gloriously is born. Suddenly, the helping word permits English to specify a vaster range of verbal tenses than had been used in ancestral languages for centuries or even millennia. Greek is not, contrary to the cliche, a more precise language than English. English permits specification of ongoing or simple aspect (i.e. “doing” and “do”) no matter the time. Greek and Latin cannot elegantly distinguish “I am doing” and “I do.” But English allows for more than this. It permits the existence of the perfect progressive: “I have been doing.”]

[bi-bobbysoxxers]

Heyy y'all! I was tagged by @meiyanaalexia Thanks for the tag, fam!

Rules: List ten of your fave female characters from your ten fave fandoms and then tag 10 other ppl!

This list is by no means comprehensive or a ranked list, as i think all my fave characters are equally bad betches, in their own right xD alright let's get to it!

-Tamari and Lady Tsunade (Naruto/Naruto Shippuden)

Tamari's one of the more cool, levelheaded female side characters in naruto and idk, she's very much Gaara and Kankuro's rock, and idk, i like that. I view her as a very strong female character, and i think she carries a lot of badass masculine energy. Plus she's a badass fighter as well. (((And she's hot but that's beside the point lol))) I like Lady Tsunade a lot, but i admit, i wasnt a fan of her at first. But now that I'm seeing her character unfold in Shippuden, I like her a lot. I like the concept that she's kiind of a grouchy, reluctant leader of the leaf village, cause that makes her seem like a very reliable leader, in a way. I think she's hella underrated as a strong character, tbh. Plus i like that she's a healing ninja, cause it seems so opposite to her outward personality. The more i watch naruto the more i'm really liking more of their female characters, tbh.

Quotes!

Tamari: "Sharpen your karma at sunset."

Tsunade: "People become stronger because they have things they cannot forget. That's what you call growth."

-Lucy and Kiyoko (Bungou Stray Dogs)

oh wow, uh, not gonna lie, i really like this anime more for most of the male characters, but Lucy and Kiyoko have alswas been in my faves list. I didnt really understand Lucy's character in season one but as the plot thickens, so does her issues with wanting to morally become a better person, but still being fairly new to learning to become selfless. I think a lot of people can relate to her because she can be fairly emotionally erratic, and she struggles with the whole "forgiveness thing." But later on you see that all she really wanted was a true family and friends that value her. And i think that's something we all want, deep down. Also, her powers are highly unnderrated and badass and i love how she is slowly becoming a protector for ppl like Atsushi, which really shows her growth as a character.

I also put Kiyoko on this list because i think she is equally as good of a female character as Lucy is, but for dif reasons. I loveeee the whole concept of "initially bad" characters soon wanting to become good. There's a simplicity in her character that i think models Atsushi's in a way, i mean they're both damaged, but both yearn to do good and make a comeback with the chances they've been given in life. If Lucy was a Tarot Card she would be the Fool. I also love how steadfast she is in her newfound family and how much she believes in everyone in the ADA now. It's very wholesome and pure :3 also i love her and Atsushi's relationship, it kinda reminds me of me and my BFF's ride or die relationship, lol.

Lucy: "Make sure you survive...Then come back for me. I'll be waiting."

Kiyoko: "I saw a bright world. I cannot go back to a time when I didn't know such a thing existed."

-Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter)

Ugh, there's so many things about this character that I have always loved and adored. Her character design, her quiet whimsical weirdness. Her determined loyalty to the people that accept her. Her lovely simple wisdom, at times. Like Harry said, Luna is just "...coooll." She kinda reminds me of me when I was a teenager but way cooler lol.

Luna: "My mum always said things we lose have a way of coming back to us, in the end."

-Lara Croft (Tomb Raider movies and videogames)

Laura is....a simple character by design. If anything, the plotlines and video game design of the Tomb Raider franchise are way more intricate. And yeah...there's her misogynistic character design (Note: the impossibly snatched waist and bOoBiEs in earlier games.)

BUT. I still stan her for a multitude of reasons. Growing up, there were may more princess characters than female warrior characters and ya know, I'm really glad I was exposed to Lara Croft movies and the Tomb Raider: Legend video games as a kid. I think Laura taught me that you can definitely embrace your feminine side and still be a badass and follow your dreams. Even now, after me finally figuring out i'm not cis, i know, that she's still an icon for most kids out there. And for me too. She was a symbol of bravery, intelligence, as well as still being a character of emotional depth, grieving the loss of her parents while vowing to continue to do what she loved, which is exploring. Cultural and moral problems with her character aside, i still find both her and her stories very inspirational, both as a bigender queer person, and as a designer.

Laura Quotes: "The line between our myths and truth is fragile and blurry."

"The extraordinary is in what we do, not who we are."

-Scorpia (She-Ra)

Oh wow, i could go on for days about how much i love thus character. If you're queer or fun in any capacity you've probably watched the final season fo She-Ra by now and spoilers aside, i just love the journey this character went on from start to finish. Scorpia is so genuine and nice, and sometimes that puts her in situations where she has to make hard decisions. And idk, those decisions just made that character so much better for me. On a lighter note, Scorpia is great queer rep, especially for butch lesbians, lesbians, trans ppl, androg ppl, and gender nonconforming ppl. She's always said things that have resonated with me as a queer person and aside from that, she's a very excitable and fun character. She just excudes so much curiosity and joy that you really can't help but like her, lol.

Scorpia: "I am brave, strong, loyal, and i give great hugs!"

-Sypha (Castlevania)

Altho I personally don't view Sypha as a cis woman, (I see her as nonbinary or agender), I think the way characters treat her in the show is indicative that in that period, they view her as a woman. So i figured I could put her on this list as well lol. Anyways, uhhh wow, Sypha is great, there's so much I love about her that it's hard to put into words. I love that she regards herself as a "scholar" of magic, but still views herself as a heretic, I just find it pretty funny and very sexy of her lol. Aside from that, I think Sypha is a great character who always seeks out logic where there usually ends up being none. I love her cheeky remarks to both Alucard and Trevor, and I love her can-do attitude. At the end of the day, she's one of those characters you love just for her great energy she carries for herself within the show. There's really no rhyme or reason to her, she just, is. She subverts many female mage character tropes as well, being a natural badass. Also her god jokes are so damn funny.

Sypha: "See?? God hates me!?

-Aunt Sarah (Derry Girls)

Okay first of all, if you havent seen Derry girls, pleaseeee watch it, holy shit it's the funniest show i've seen in a longass time. Second of all, my friend and I are still going thru the show, but Ajnt Sarah has started to become one of my favorite characters. She's one of those very aloof characters that you kinda ignore at first but then her character just has these amazing one liners and she really grows on you. Also she is very caring about her family and she's cute as hell???? I'm sorry but like her aesthetic is just on fuckin point, like??? Go off babe?? Anyways yeah she's cute.

No quotes for her since that might ruin some of the better punchlines if you end up watching the show lol.

-Marga (Cable Girls)

Yeah, if you want a really good 1920's drama that focuses on women, go give Cable Girls a try! It is very poetic in its direction lol. Anyways, Marga is one of the "new girls" at the beginning of the show and she is just, so earnest, and genuine, and pure. And I love her. She's very nice to the other girls working and she's got some great one liners. She's that timid, cute character that slowy comes out of her shell throughout the show lol.

-Kiki and Sheeta (Studio Ghibli)

I loveee Studio Ghibli films, and one of my two fave films of Miyazaki are Kiki's Delivery Service and my ultimate fave, Castle in the Sky. I adore Kiki as a character because she is your quintessential cute witch, and her journey with finding and grasping her full powers are very relevant to me, and my journey with upholding my creativity as a designer. As well as being a great movie with a great lessom for all artists, Kiki is a very passionate and genuine character, who's resilency has inspired me in hard times. I love her relationship that she has with other ppl as nd creatures, especially with her cat Gigi. She's cute, i love her lots.

Sheeta, I love for different reasons. Sheeta is one of those rare instances where a quiet protagonist, really works. I love her calm and humble, yet powerful energy surrounding her. I love her background, and how there has always beem magic inside of her, even if she's not a practicing witch. She is so very humble and a very introspective character. There's not a lot of female protagonists quite like her. Plus she's adorable as well, lol.

-Aunt Hilda, Zelda, Prudence, and Lilith (CHAOS)

I'm not gonna get into super specifics since i love all these characters equally, but I will say that all these characters absolutely MADE this series for me. I personally found Sabrina's character very annoying and slightly egotistical (i mean she's allowed to be i suppose,lol) but these characters were just so much fun!

I love Aunt Hilda for her soft personality and great revenge comebacks. I love Prudence for her aesthetic, character design, and amazing characrer development throughout the series. I love Lilith, for being both a BAMF and. MILF, lolz. And finally, i absolutely adore Zelda's character, for being so poised, calculating, blunt, and yet so very badass and loveable xD I love everything about her character, tbh.

There's so many good quotes from each character, so just watch the show, lol.

Andddd i think that's it! Sorry this was super long, I wanted to state my reasoms for why these characters were on the list, lol. Hope you liked some of my character analysis, feel free to screech with me about shows anytime lol. I'd love more good show recs!

You def don't have to go as hard as I did on this but I tag:

@heathen-beast @iquotetheravennevermore @sweet-communist @gardiewithyou @sawayakakuns @shortlady72 @thatonegirluniverse @thatlowkeyhipster @letting-and-living @beauxxxtifullies @catastrafey

Anyone else can participate if they feel like it! Have fun lol. Let's love our great women characters lol.

[baldwin-montclair]

Baldwin’s Nightingale (Part 10)

Characters: Baldwin Montclair/OC

Timeframe: After the S1 Finale, TV Show canon MOSTLY (some S2 and Shadow of Night).

Summary: Passions run high when Alisha and Baldwin return from the auction as considerations over the future of their relationship arise.

Tag requests: @christi14 @poemfreak306 @pookie-cleary

———

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

PART 6

PART 7

PART 8

PART 9

———

“Wait,” Alisha fought to keep her head, Baldwin’s lips on her throat making that rather difficult, “don’t tear the dress, it’s too pretty!” She pleaded, fearing for the about to be scattered buttons that held it closed at the back.

The quiet growl of frustration from him did not help to temper her excitement either.

They had barely gotten in inside the apartment when when he pounced, her back against the heavy door and his suit jacket and bow tie discarded on the floor beside them.

However, just the mere seconds she delayed him caused an obvious change in his demeanour, as though that tiny window of opportunity allowed an equally small kernel of rationality to get through.

“Baldwin?” She started, already sensing him emotionally withdrawing.

“I can’t do this to you,” he swallowed hard, backing away from her, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not doing anything to me Baldwin, I can assure you I am very much a willing participant in this.”

“I’m not talking about sex, Alisha, I-“

“Neither am I. I told you, I love you and I want to be with you. I thought you felt the same way.”

“How I feel is irrelevant.”

“Don’t do that, if you’re going to protect your unfeeling asshole image then at least have the guts to not skulk off like you’re in some Jane Austen novel.” The sudden outburst of anger shocked him momentarily.

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about!”

“Really? Do you think I didn’t notice poor Gallowglass jumping to attention when you commanded him?”

“I don’t know what you think you understand, about me, my family or my obligations but I promise you that the one thing the De Clermont’s do not need is their head distracted because his mate is in danger!”

It took every once of restraint she had not to meet his angry words with her own.

She stayed silent for a moment, trying to control her breathing - and seething fury - sensing him awaiting the next barb, like an embattled warrior preparing for another onslaught.

When it didn’t come, he ran his hand through his hair, seemingly at a loss.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly after a moment.

“I know,” she held out her hand for him to join her and he reached out and took it, allowing her to pull him into a warm hug as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, “do you want to tell me what happened?”

“Not particularly,” he answered, “but I don’t believe I have much of a choice.” He answered resignedly and released her from the embrace.

“You really don’t.” She agreed.

“We have a lot to discuss, you should be comfortable as we do so.”

“I’ll meet you back here,” she moved to leave before realising, “um, bit awkward but I really do need help with the buttons.”

A light chuckle escaped his lips, seemingly wiping clean the bad atmosphere between them.

He made a circular gesture with his finger, a signal for her to turn around and she did, trying not to think too hard about his fingers brushing temporarily against the skin of her back as he worked carefully.

“It is done.” He stated simply but paused to place a light kiss on the nape of her neck.

“Ah, that is nice.” Alisha sighed in relief as she massaged her scalp after removing the last of the hairpins, freeing the strained follicles.

She decided on borrowing yet another one of Baldwin’s shirts to wear, massive on her but so very comfortable and he did suggest that she should be comfortable.

When she left the room and found him, leaning against the sofa, shirt sleeves rolled up, she felt less unsure with her choice of dress.

Alisha was unconvinced that he didn’t know just how good he looked like this.

“Fortunate that I have so many shirts.”

“I can go change if you prefer?”

“I won’t have it, even if you are very distracting.”

“Me?” She answered with mock offence, giving him a frank look up and down before taking a seat on the sofa.

“Of course. As radiant as you were in that dress - and you were - looking as you are now I don’t think I’ve seen a more stunning sight.” He said smoothly, taking a seat beside her.

“You were going to tell me what happened, don’t try to distract me with charm.”

“I hoped that would work.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Very well.”

Alisha raised her eyebrows in encouragement for him to continue.

“Give me a moment to think.”

“I was in there for ages, you had plenty of time to think of what to say.”

“I did, then you emerged, like that, and I forgot what I was going to say.”

“You’re doing it again.” She accused.

Baldwin held his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Alright, what we were about to do, I knew it was the line.”

“What line?”

“The point of no return. If we continued, it would mean that we are mated and I couldn’t do that to you without your full understanding of what that meant.”

“Are you trying to tell me you’ve been celibate since becoming a vampire?” She asked disbelievingly.

“Gods no!”

“Then why-“

“They weren’t you. I cared for many, even loved a handful but they were not my mate.”

“So, if we had sex, that would mean we’re like vampire common law married or-“

“Not even close. Marriages can be annulled, broken in divorce. To become mated is to do so for life, all of yours and all of mine.” He explained.

“Would I need to be turned?” She asked with trepidation

“No,” he answered abruptly, “there’s no guarantee a siring would be successful and if it wasn’t, it would kill you.”

“Okay-“

“There’s something else to consider.”

“Which is?”

“Vampires cannot biologically reproduce, I cannot give you children.”

“Why do you assume I want children?”

“You’re of age, fertile-“

“Neither things mean I have to have my own.”

“You don’t like children?”

“I love them, I help out at a musical camp every summer. I just enjoy giving them back to their parents at the end. Did you have children, before?”

“Not that I know of. Unlike you, I don’t really have the patience for dealing with them.”

“You’ve never had to deal with them, I bet you’d go all Papa Bear if you did, you’re exactly the type.”

“Unlikely.”

“Have you sired any vampires?”

“One. Her name is Miyako, a ferocious warrior when she was a human. As a vampire, she’s unstoppable.”

“You sound proud of your daughter, Baldwin. It’s kind of adorable.”

He rolled his eyes at her teasing.

“Will I meet her at some point?” She asked, hopeful.

“That depends on you.”

“I still haven’t shown I understand what mating means to your satisfaction?”

“The fault is not yours, I have kept the most difficult aspect until last.” He admitted.

“Which is?”

“Obedience.”

“Excuse me?”

“Exactly. Not as simple now, is it?”

“Baldwin, you know this world and the dangers, I don’t. If you’re saying that I have to follow instructions to be safe then I will-“

“I’m not...saying that. I’m saying that I am the head of my family and as my mate, you would be part of that family. You would have to obey me in all matters, as they must, if not more.”

“That seems slightly medieval.”

“Perhaps, but it’s the best way to keep order amongst creatures who would rather see one another dead, and that is not going to change. It’s a necessary ultimatum, I’m afraid.”

“Why do I get the feeling that if I can’t accept that, I don’t get any of you.”

“It’s not vindictive, it’s what needs to happen.”

“What is? We just never see each other again?”

“Yes. I would of course see to it that you had a good life, new country, new identity. The mating instinct lies with me, you might be...upset for a time but you’ll move on.”

“Will you?”

“Don’t concern yourself with me, I know how to be on my own.”

“And I know what I want. The same thing I wanted before, I want you. I agree to your conditions.”

“You’ll obey me without question?”

“Yes. If I don’t trust that every command you give is for a good reason then I can’t claim to truly love you, can I?”

“And if my first command is to make temporary peace with Gerbert until we have the means to utterly destroy him?”

“He killed Michael.”

“Guillermo killed Michael.”

“On his orders!”

“Did Guillermo tell you that?”

Alisha averted her gaze.

“He’s dead, it’s not like he can disagree.”

Baldwin shook his head and tilted her chin with his finger to force her to look at him.

“Did he tell you that?”

“No.”

“Then we have no proof, yet.”

Alisha sighed in resignation.

“He’s not getting the drive.”

“I didn’t say he was. As far as he knows, it does not exist. When, and only when he is no longer a threat, may you continue Michael’s work. Do you accept?”

“Yes.” She answered after a moment.

“Wait here.” He told her and disappeared off to his office, returning a moment later to take a knee in front of her.

“Seriously?” She smiled.

“If we’re going to do this,” he started, removing a small jewellery box from his pocket, “we’re doing it right.”

He opened the box to show a stunning precious round cut opal set in a circle of diamonds with a bright titanium band.

He gave her a look of concern.

“Alisha, please breathe.” He reminded her as she’d inhaled sharply upon seeing it but had not yet exhaled.

“I don’t think I can. It’s-“ she stopped, at a loss.

“An Opal, I‘ve had it for over two thousand years. Mark Anthony tried to buy it from a Senator, planning to gift it to Cleopatra but my father wanted to cause a rift in the Senate. Philippe bade me purchase it instead. He wasn’t interested in the stone so he told me to keep it, that it would be of use one day.”

“Are you telling me that this stone was almost given to Cleopatra by Mark Anthony?”

“Yes, and had he been successful in placing it on her, the devotion it signified would pale in comparison to the devotion it bestows on you now.”

She had to congratulate him for finding a non-trite way of saying that he loved her more than Mark Anthony loved Cleopatra.

“Alisha Black, do you accept me, Lucius Segeric Benoit Christophe Baldwin De Clermont as your husband, mate and master from this breath until your last?”

“I do.”

Baldwin removed the ring from the box and slid it onto the ring finger of her left hand.

“Is that...it?”

“For the Congregation, my family,” he stopped himself, “our family, and every creature, that is it. For human legalities, we will have to file some paperwork, which can be done at Sept-Tours.”

“Don’t we need a priest to officiate.”

“I wasn’t aware you were devout,” he smiled, “Mrs Montclair.”

“I’m not, I just thought we needed an authority to-“

He cut her off with a kiss.

“I am the authority, and you just promised to obey me,” he cupped her face in his hand and lightly stroked his thumb over her bottom lip, “any regrets Little Nightingale?” He asked.

“None,” she shivered in anticipation, “My Lord.”

She deliberately responded with the name that excited him as much as the one he’d uttered excited her.

“Careful.”

“Or?”

“Would you like me to show you?”

“Yes.”

It almost happened in a blur, his leading her into the bedroom and closing the door behind them. She reached out to begin work on the buttons of his shirt but he stopped her.

“I suspect you need some practice in obeying your husband. Close your eyes.”

She opened her mouth to ask why but the mock stern look he gave, stopped her, and she she gave into his order.

“Good, now, you are going to keep your hands down by your sides and not move unless I tell you to.” He told her from somewhere in front of her. His footsteps were so quiet it was impossible to determine his location unless he was speaking, and he had stopped.

When he did make his presence known again, it was to begin to unfasten the buttons of the shirt she was wearing. His command to stay still was severely at war with her self-consciousness when he reached the bottom button.

Fortunately, he did not immediately open the garment but instead traced a line from her neck to her navel with his cold fingers.

He then withdrew his touch, leaving her unsure as to his location.

“You’re doing very well” He praised from behind her as he placed a possessive kiss on the side of her neck.

“Thank you.” She answered, anticipation, arousal and adrenaline causing a heady mixture of emotions, and her knees to grow slightly weaker.

“I’m right here, you can lean against me,” he assured, “I’ll never let you go.”

Accepting his gesture she relaxed against him, allowing her head to fall back and rest on his shoulder. Her movement caused the fabric of the shirt still concealing her breast to fall open.

Without thinking, she moved to put it back where it was and felt Baldwin’s posture straighten.

“Sorry.” She said quietly and he seemed to relax again.

“Forgiven.” He answered, before sliding the shirt from her shoulders, to the floor, leaving her in just her underwear.

This caused her to gasp slightly in surprise.

“Alisha?” He asked.

“I’m fine.” She managed to squeak out.

In response, he pulled her back against him and she realised at some point, he too had disposed of his own shirt, the skin on skin contact making her want to move, to turn and face him.

“Do you want me to stop.”

“No, but I want to touch you.”

“Patience.”

Baldwin’s actions became plain to her. She’d promised to obey, she’d accepted him as her husband and master and he repaid this trust by demonstrating the benevolence of his rule. However, this also meant that it was moving at exactly the pace he set and she had no choice but to surrender to his will.

Only when he was satisfied she’d accepted this, did he turn her to face him.

“You can open your eyes.” He told her but she had a plan and kept them closed.

“Can I also please move?” She asked, appealing to his authority.

“No.”

“As you wish, My Lord.” She answered, trying to hide impatience.

“I did say you could open your eyes.”

“You said I could, you did not command me to do so. If you were to command me, I would, of course, obey.”

“I won’t command it, I’ll instead leave that to My Lady’s discretion.”

She could almost hear the wolffish grin in his words, a challenge that had been accepted.

“Are you trying to retain some control here?” He asked.

“I’m not.”

“No?” He challenged, his hand closing over her left breast as his thumb brushed circles around her nipple.

She could only shake her head in response to his question, the sudden direct contact in the sensory semi-deprivation he had her in ignited her nerve endings and she had to bite her lip to stop the moan that threatened to escape.

“Are you sure? Your heart is beating so fast, I can only deduce that you’re either lying, or...”

His hand wandered down to the edge of her underwear, hesitated a moment and slipped under the fabric.

This moan, she had no power to suppress.

“You can move.”

She opened her eyes, relieved and instantly wrapped her arms around his neck to lean up and kiss him. His arm around her back held her upright against him as his fingers explored.

He walked her over to the edge of the bed and laid her down before removing the last item of clothing she had on and throwing it off to the side. He, however, was still in possession of his trousers and she tried to sit up to relieve him of these.

“Not yet.” He pushed her onto her back gently

She huffed with impatience and he brushed her cheek with his hand.

“I have no wish to hurt you,” he explained as he positioned himself between her legs, “I intend to make you ready before I take you.”

Alisha swallowed hard as she watched him kiss the inside of her thigh.

“I’m not exactly experienced Baldwin but I’m no virgin either, you won’t hurt me.” She assured him.

“There’s no rush, we have all night.”

“But-“

The sudden sensation of her husband’s infamous ‘silver tongue’ cut off her protest. The reputation had been earned through his skill of negotiation and deal-making but it turned out his talent with it far exceeded this narrow field.

It also didn’t help that she was completely unprepared for the degree of pleasure this action elicited having never experienced it before. She’d slept with exactly two men in her life and neither had a fraction of the skill as was being demonstrated upon her at that moment.

“Baldwin, please,” she gasped, shaking her head and trying to pull away before she was too far gone. But with her now shaking legs over his muscular shoulders, she couldn’t get far. There was no earthly way she could be more at his mercy than she was at that moment.

“What is it?” He asked with patience, continuing the delicious pressure with the pad of his thumb whilst he playfully nipped at her thigh with his teeth.

“I need...I want you...inside me, when I-“

He place one last kiss where he’d been attending and stood, allowing her to unfasten his belt and undo his pants, all the while he was admiring her face, her blown pupils and flushed cheeks.

It didn’t take long for her to determine his concern for her comfort.

Having seen plenty of statues from the time Baldwin was human had led her to severely underestimate the size of Roman men’s endowments, judging by the one before her.

“Lie back.” He told her softly and she obeyed, moving further up the bed and watched him cover her body with his own.

It wasn’t until the early morning hours that the newlyweds had thoroughly consummated the union to their satisfaction and slipped into a blissful sleep.

Alisha awoke to the light in the window and, given the early winter’s sun, deduced it had to be close to noon. She was still resting against her husband’s shoulder as he was absently tracing patterns on her back.

”How long have you been awake?”

“Not long. I don’t usually require sleep two nights in a row but last night...” he trailed off.

“Did I exhaust the great and powerful Baldwin De Clermont?” She shifted her position to look up at him.

“Yes, you very much did, Mrs De Clermont.”

“I thought I was Mrs Montclair.”

“You’re both, however, De Clermont by marriage is your title amongst all creatures. According to the humans, you are Alisha Montclair.”

“And you’ll have to write all your names down for me, I don’t think I got them all.” Her smile faltered.

“Sweetheart?”

“Your family, will they accept me?”

“They don’t really have a choice.” He shrugged, unconcerned.

“That’s not as comforting as you think it is! Please tell me Marcus and Gallowglass are the most difficult members of your family to win over!”

“Somewhat.” He lied, picturing the expressionless fury of Ysabeau upon discovering his hypocritical taking of a daemon mate after how he reacted with Matthew mating with a witch.

She’d met the two most genial and easy to get along with members of the De Clermont clan. He was unsure how his sister Verin would react. Marthe could be won over, he calculated. Matthew was gone for the foreseeable future so he was no issue.

“Your mother, is she-“

“Step-Mother, Ysabeau was my father’s mate and she will be accommodating. We will leave today, file the necessary paperwork and only then do we speak to the Congregation.”

“But we’re not accusing Gerbert.”

“No, but we must submit our union to their consideration nonetheless.”

“I don’t understand Baldwin, you said-“

“Stop,” he answered gently, framing her face in his hands, “it will be alright. The witches will be against but I can convince Agatha to have the daemons vote for us.”

“Do you get a vote?”

“I do.”

“Gerbert is your enemy, he will vote no.”

“Yes, but Domenico will vote in our favour, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Five to four.”

“See, no need to worry.”

“What about the Covenant, I thought that was ironclad?”

“It was. But, after the escapade with Matthew and Diana, I relaxed the covenant rules somewhat. It’s no longer completely forbidden but any prospective couple must make a request to the Congregation. I can’t argue for it and then not adhere to it myself.”

“Okay.” She told him, unconvinced he should be so certain.

“Alisha,” he cupped her chin to maker her look at him, “I’m good at convincing people to act in my interests. But make no mistake, I will rip open the throats of any who would dare try and take you from me. Is that understood?”

“Yes.” She answered, a lot more sure about her answer than before.

“You are my wife and my mate. You will love and obey me and I will protect and adore you.”

“I am yours to command, My Lord.” She grinned.

———

PART 11

[qeterqujll]

angels; your best friends are the four most problematic angels in heaven

characters: castiel x reader, gabriel x reader, lucifer x reader, balthazar x reader, dean winchester, sam winchester

a/n: i might try and do a few of these because these four are my favorite i literally cannot handle it. so this is kind of a prologue to that series.

Dean is glaring at you from across the room, staring distastefully at the other four beings standing in front of you. Sam is gone for the day, but Dean’s sure he’d throw a fit if he saw the group standing in their kitchen chatting away while you cook them pie– pie. They’re getting pie and that is not okay with him. Angels don't even eat and now you’re cooking them pie.

“Winchester,” Lucifer spits, glaring back at Dean, “I hope you know that I can hear you.”

“Good,” Dean bites back, crossing his arms as he stands, making his way to your side, “what can I think that’ll make you disappear?”

“Dean,” you snap, whipping around with a whisk pointed at the Winchester, “we talked about this. He’s fine.”

Lucifer’s frown shift’s into a pleased grin, sauntering over to you happily, not missing the opportunity to shoulder past Dean and replace him at your side.

“Lucifer,” Castiel sighs, beginning another unsuccessful attempt at playing mediator between the fallen angel and the Winchester, “you are being childish.”

“Oh, I’m being childish, little brother?” he scoffs, leaning back against the counter with crossed arms, “you should be talking to Gabriel.”

Dean shakes his head, staring at you as if to ask is this really who you invited to the Bunker? but you avoid his gaze and pretend to be very heavily invested in the eggs you’re cracking. Dean just sighs, grumbling something about angels being the bane of his existence before flopping back into his chair, brooding from a distance and scowling when Lucifer meets his gaze with a smirk.

“You’re just jealous because you’re not the favorite anymore,” Gabriel grins, “Don’t worry, Dean-o, we’ll be out of your hair soon.”

“Sure,” Dean scoffs, opening one of his vintage magazines with a shake of his head and an annoyed sigh, “last time soon meant two weeks.”

He very vividly remembers finding the four angels in your room in various positions. Cas he expected, seeing as you had always been close to the angel, but Dean always assumed you and Cas had a thing going on, something he was not interested in asking about. But Cas was not the one laying on your bed, head in your lap as he flipped through one of the books you kept on your dresser. No, that was Gabe, and your hand was actually in his hair as you looked at something on your phone.

Fine, Dean had thought, fine, two angels. One he could handle, and the other he could half-tolerate.

When he spotted Balthazar looking through the lore books on your floor, picking up one about angels and flipping through it, he’d been more than a little bit surprised. He wasn’t sure when Balthazar had come back, and he was definitely not sure when he’d gotten close enough to you for you to allow him into the Bunker, but whatever. Balthazar was irritating, sure, but at least he’d helped them with Cas when they were desperate.

Then he saw Lucifer, laying on your other side with his legs crossed and his eyes closed in peaceful contentment.

He shakes his head at the memory, glancing one more time at the group before standing and storming up the stairs to his room. If he has to stand one more second of those four together with you he thinks he would be better off with Crowley in hell.

“What crawled up his arse and died?” Balthazar comments as Dean storms up the stairs. You sigh, shaking your head as you put the pies in the oven, one for the Winchesters and one for the angels (they insisted they’d enjoy it even though you know well enough from Cas that they won’t taste anything).

“You guys did,” you snort at your own comment, feeling a few glares on your back as you turn around to clean up the mess you’d made while cooking.

“I do not understand,” Castiel begins, “why would we be up Dean’s-”

“Can someone please smite him before I do?” Lucifer grumbles.

“No smiting in the Bunker, please.” “You humans and your rules,” Lucifer rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t move from his seat to approach the still confused Castiel, who has let any part of the conversation after Balthazar’s comment go over his head.

“Can you guys just,” you sigh, turning back towards the four angels sitting on the opposite side of the counter, “please behave yourselves around the boys. They’re still warming up to most of you.”

“They like Castiel,” Balthazar sighs, “I don’t understand why any of us are different from him.”

“Would you like the short list,” you look pointedly at Gabriel, “or the long one,” your gaze shifts to Lucifer. “Do the words Tuesday and Apocalypse ring any bells?”

“Michael started it,” Lucifer grumbles, “besides, that was ages ago. They’re too sensitive.”

“Yes, death will do that to someone,” you scoff, leaning towards Lucifer on the counter, “I know you’re not exactly up to par on humans, but we don’t exactly appreciate being killed.”

“Thank you, sweetheart, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

There’s sarcasm dripping from his words, but you ignore it, smiling happily and taking the conversation as a win. You walk around to the library, picking up the book you’d been reading on the history of vampires and werewolves, but it’s plucked from your hands and replaced by a lore book on angels that you have yet to read. You glance over the top of the book, but all four of the angels are minding their own business. You almost set the book down to find the one you’d been in the middle of when you hear, “if you’re going to read that nonsense, at least read interesting nonsense.”

You roll your eyes, gaze shifting from the angels to the page the book had been opened to in your hands, skimming the words before setting it down on the table, making your way back to the kitchen.

“That book says all humans have a guardian angel,” you glance between the four, “do I?”

“Well it did say all humans, didn’t it?”

“Hm,” you glance at your hands, clasped together on the counter, “who is it?”

“Would it make a difference?” Lucifer sighs, “we’re all here. None of us are going anywhere anytime soon, apparently.”

“Just curious. So all of you have a human you watch out for?”

“All angels have had one at some point,” Gabriel says, “but for most of us, our humans have died. Now we’re all stuck with you.”

“If you want to know if it’s one of the four of us,” Balthazar interrupts, “it is.”

You nod, waiting for him to continue, but he just meets your gaze with a smile on his face that tells you that you won’t be getting any more answers out of him.

“So it’s one of you. Then why do all four of you stick around if you don’t need to?”

“What is it you humans call...friendship? Companionship? Even angels get bored and you’re very entertaining,” Lucifer smirks and Castiel glares at him, but doesn’t comment. You snort, taking a handful of flour and blowing it at him, laughing at the unamused look on his now flour-covered face.

“Well I, for one, am quite entertained.”

“I am the most feared creature on this planet,” Lucifer deadpans, “and you just threw flour at me.”

“It’s the simple joys, Luci.”

In retaliation and with a single snap of his fingers, you feel what must be at least a pound of flour pour over you, covering you in the white powder.

“Well played,” you shake your head, a cloud of flour from the top of your head surrounding you, “you’d better watch your back.”

“You’re lucky you’re not a Winchester because threatening me would not be wise.”

You shrug, taking a handful of flour from the floor and throwing it at him, blowing a kiss when his scowl deepens. With another snap of his fingers, the flour surrounding him is gone.

“I still want to know which one of you is my guardian angel,” you glance between them, sitting on the only empty stool between Balthazar and Gabriel, who snaps his fingers to rid you of the flour covering you.

“Let’s just say we split the responsibility evenly,” Balthazar eventually says when the other three angels refuse to respond, “guardian angels only get one human to look after, and when they pass on we don’t get another human chosen specifically for us to watch over. And the one of us who is your real guardian angel will tell you eventually, but I personally don’t think it matters. I quite like this.”

He motions to the five of you sitting together at the counter and you smile, because you definitely like it too.

“You big ‘ol sap,” Gabriel shakes his head, snapping his fingers to make the pies materialize from the oven in front of him.

“Only one,” you remind him, “the other is for the boys.”

“I thought we were the boys,” Lucifer mutters with a mouth already full of pie.

“We are not boys,” Castiel states, “we are angels of the Lord.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lucifer scoffs.

“Sam’s home in a few,” you hear Dean shout from the balcony above you, “have fun explaining this little playdate to him.”

“Bye, Dean-o!”

Gabriel snaps his fingers and suddenly the silence of the Bunker’s kitchen is replaced by the sounds of heavy traffic and unfamiliar voices.

“Gabe,” you run a hand over your face, refusing to open your eyes and look at your surroundings, “where did you take us?”

“I believe we’re in Paris, darling.”

You open your eyes, the Eiffel Tower standing proudly in the distance. You turn towards Gabriel, who has taken a sudden interest in the the sky, although you can see the smirk on his face.

“Gabriel,” Castiel sighs, “we should go back. Dean will worry.”

“I’m sure Dean and that oaf brother of his will manage on their own for the rest of the day,” Lucifer puts an arm over your shoulders, guiding you towards the nearest cafe, “and I haven’t been to Paris since the Apocalypse.”

[silvahscientiah]

In-Progress/ Abandoned/ Finished FFXV Prompts / Stories

These are all mine. If you want to use one, PLEASE ASK FIRST, so that I can know who’s doing what, and CREDIT ME at @silvahscientiah on tumblr or Silverhaunter on AO3. Each UNDERLINED title is a link to a story, abandoned work, or prompt of mine. Each italic long piece is an excerpt.

ALSO PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHICH IS YOUR FAVOURITE IF YOU DO READ THEM SO I CAN MAKE MORE CONTENT LIKE IT

I was dead this morning.

“I was dead this morning.” Noctis says, and Ignis pipes up, “And I blind.”

    “And you know, thirty years old!” Prompto gasps, and Gladiolus nods, crossing his arms.

    “So, what the hell?” Gladiolus snaps, his temper from his youth returning in full swing.

Niflheim! Ignis:

“There’s a man that’s been running with the Empire, he deals in multiple kinds of magic, we’re not sure what his stance is yet.” Cor says, carefully, and Noctis raises an eyebrow, “He appears unassuming, but he was, according to the few survivors, there when Insomnia fell, fighting alongside the Empire.”

    “He appears not to be dangerous. He,” Cor grimaces, like he’s remembering something unpleasant, “Is most certainly one of our biggest threats.

A Stop in Tenebrae.

“I’ve been having visions of the future.” Ignis sighs, “of people dying. Aside from that, I know for a fact there will be ten or more years of darkness before the Chosen returns,” he stays distinctly distant from the matter,  “I am not leaving forever. Just for now. I cannot prevent what’s about to happen to Noct, but I can prevent what’s about to happen to” he stops.

    Prompto’s brain clicks, “Ravus.”

    Ignis nods solemnly, “Ravus.”

“I owe him my life and Noctis’, and I will not just let him die.” Ignis’ eyes close to the darkness, “not like that.”

    “I will be getting off the train at Tenebrae.” He says, “It’s been decided.”

Niflheim! Ignis II

The man barely seems to move, but his wrist is at Prompto’s throat, a blade sliding from a hidden gauntlet. The daggers are a distraction, it seems, and his form crackles with electricity, likely how he moved so quickly. The blade ignites with flame, and Prompto squeaks.

    “That is quite enough.” The man says, his eyes barely visible behind the dark lense.

    “Goodness.” Ardyn’s voice cuts the tension, and Ignis immediately steps away, and waves at Ravus and pushes past him, shoulders brushing, and Ravus sheathes his sword.

    The man stands beside Ardyn and removes his visor, unseeing eyes opening just long enough for Noctis to see the silver cloudiness.

    He mouths something, and his eyes skitter over to where Noctis is.

    ‘Walk tall, my friends.’

Him. (Ignoct)

“I- I can’t let this go on any longer, majesty. I apologize.” Ignis gently extracts himself, and moves away, “I’m dead. I know I am dead, I gave my life so that I might save my King and his Oracle. You died, Noctis, on the altar. You and Lunafreya were dead when Ravus and I arrived, she traded her life for yours, and I traded mine for hers. The only way we interact is,” Ignis seems to hesitate, “if I project myself using the ring. The Kings were not pleased with me, Noct,”

    UNFINISHED AND ABANDONED: Castlevania FFXV AU (Ignoct)

“I can save your child, but I cannot save you.” Ardyn says to Auela, “Your life for theirs, I can gift them with your humanity, and save them with the curse of vampirism. Your child will be born a dhampir. Half of it your husband, half of it the curse I will gift to you. You will not survive the birthing.”

Auela nods. “Do it.”

Noctis Lucis Caelum  is born later that night, and Auela passes on silently, half-son breathing quietly in her arms.

Noctis’ heartbeat is so loud in Ardyn’s ears, and he hates him for it. For the noisy beat of his heart and the fact that he is still alive and Regis is not.    

    Ardyn raises his scythe, as Noctis turns around, and the blade sinks into his vertebrae. His mouth opens, but no sound leaves him, as he falls onto the castle floor,  his blood hot and red and pooling onto the floor a his body shakes with shock, and his heartbeat loud and stunted and his face all too much like Regis’.

    Blood sprays across the wall, and a jet of flame burns Ardyn’s hand as Ignis, wild and cat-eyed raises his polearm, he does not speak, but the flame of his dagger sinking into his flesh and ripping open his body is more excruciating than even the pain of seeing Noctis bleed out with wide eyes on the tile floor.

    He has never hated anything more than he hates Noctis at that very moment.

“Fine. I’m Prompto Argentum, by the way? You’re Gladilous, Amicitia, right?”     “I don’t c- Argentum? Not Leonis?”

    “I’m adopted.”

    “Of course you are. Not like I’d actually get to save Cor fucking Leonis’ real fucking son.”

    “Hey!”

Good and Tasty Vampire Ignoct.

Ardyn Izunia approaches, puts his hand to Noctis’ throat, and Ignis can’t help but eye him wearily. His hands are cold when he pushes Ignis’ aside, almost like-

    “You’re a-” Ardyn backhands him, and he’s sent reeling, his head hitting the stone. His vision swims, and he tries to focus on Ardyn’s bored expression as he tries to lift himself to his feet, but a boot lands on his chest. Ravus stands to fight, and is blown back by a blast of dark energy and flame.

    Ignis’ vision swims, and like a light bulb going dark, he blacks out.

Mermaid Ignoct

The wheelchair hits his back and his breath leaves his lungs as he collides with the water.

    A figure darts out to reach him, and he’s soon deposited on the bank, a young boy, only a little older than him gentle cradling him as his back inches onto the sand. The boy- no, creaute- is making whistling and clicking noises, followed by chortling.

    The sound becomes more and more human, and suddenly the boy is crying, “Help! Please, someone, help!” a clicking punctuating his words, “King Regis, please!”

    A tail shifts to sit him up, pressed against the creature’s chest, at an angle good for his back. The creature lays him on his back oh so gently and presses their lips together, “Breathe, please, highness.”

    Noctis’ lungs filter through the sea water and he coughs while the young siren rubs his back.

    Suddenly the boy has legs, and is moving to pick up and carry him. He sways a bit on new legs, and is dressed in a simple suit. “Stay alive, please. Your back has been injured by the wheelchair when it hit.”

The Ring’s Flash

    The only warning they receive is the brightest flash of light they’ve ever seen. Ignis pitches the car to the side and slams on the breaks, with a yell of, “Is everyone alright?”

Gladiolus and Prompto both respond with varying shades of cursing, but Noctis does not respond at all, and when Ignis turns around, he is slumped forward, with what looks to be Regis’ sword embedded deeply into his chest.

    Prompto screams, and Gladiolus pulls away Noctis’ shirt as quickly as he can to assess if the blade can be pulled free.

    Ignis goes still, but not purely because of the blade lodged in his charge’s sternum. Noctis is taller, his legs tucked behind Ignis’ seat, and he’s wearing what looks to be a Royal Raiment. His hair is longer, too, styled differently, if at all, stray locks falling into his face. Beautiful in death, he reminds Ignis of the Kings of olde. He’s got a beard, which is most definitely a change from the clean shaven he’s used to, and the planes of his face are more angular with signs of adulthood. He’s paler, too, if that’s possible. Like he’s stopped going out in sunlight altogether.

Noctis would not cope well with Ignis dying.

Ardyn sits down opposite him on the train, “Should’ve killed the Oracle, I suppose.” He muses, and Noctis just looks out the window.

    “Noctis, you’re disappointing me.” he bites his lip, “Stick a knife in me. Do something.”

    Noctis whispers, “I just. Don’t feel like it.”

    Ardyn bites his tongue and disappears.

What you wanted.

    It’s immediately afterwards that Noctis plunges a blade into Regis’ stomach, his eyes glittering fire-orange, irises glassy, he pulls the blade from Regis, and looks at it cautiously. Regis falls to the ground, and presses his wound closed as quickly as possible, with his fingers, sloppy with gore, he’s too shocked to call out, his son had just called upon his armiger, there’s no way it isn’t him.

    The worst part, in Regis’ mind, is not that his son just stabbed him, but is that he is now gripping the blade with both hands, and has it pointed directly at his own body, just under his ribs, angled up toward his heart.

Reverse Au? Sort of.

Ardyn sinks his blade into Noctis’ stomach, angling it high up into his ribs, and letting it sit until he violently yanks it free. Noctis lurches with the icy pull of the wound, and claws at Ardyn, pressing his fingers to the knife, gasping, his hands clambering for purchase, trying to seal his skin together. Ardyn yanks the knife from his body, cutting open the sides of Noctis’ hands, and blood gushes from the wound.

“Noct! Get away from him!” Ignis rises to his feet, summoning his daggers from the rings on his middle fingers, calling them to him from where they rest just out of sight.  

    “Strange world, this.” Ardyn muses, “Oracle turned King, King turned Oracle, Advisor turned messenger. Ifrit was always the most powerful.”

Noctis trembles silently on the wet stone, “Ardyn, you don’t have to keep doing this, if I can just heal you in this world-”

“You can’t.” He hisses,

“We wouldn’t have to keep-!” and Ignis presses his hands to Noctis wound, murming the familiar line of, ‘forgive me’ and calling his magic to him, and burning Noctis’ wound closed as he screams and blacks out.

“Rest now, majesty.” Ignis murmurs, and cradles his head, lying him down.

“Once again, you change his destiny.” Ardyn hums, “Powerful indeed.”

Ignis clasps his hands around Noctis’ and awaken the astrals and kings and queens of Lucis to protect Lunafreya.

[csforscience-blog]

When You Wish Upon a Star

Post Season 7 AU. Based on my theory that the Wish Realm wasn't actually created by a wish, rather Emma's wish had transported her to an alternate universe and the actual Princess Emma from that realm was kidnapped.

After the curse is broken and he is sent back to his realm in search of a cure, Wish Hook finally meets the blonde woman who has haunted his dreams. Because in every world, in every time soul mates find each other. RATED T. (Now on ff and ao3)

"The King and Queen are dead."

He expected chaos when he returned. The other version of Regina and the Swan girl had left the kingdom in shambles with King Charming and Queen Snow to be mourned and young Prince Henry confused and orphaned. No one understands that Princess Emma wasn't actually their princess. They watched her grow up, they saw her rule. In fact the people of Killian's realm do not think they are just the product of a wish. Neither does he. He is just as real as his younger counterpart.

So is his daughter, the one true thing that matters in his life. And yet as Henry Mills and Cinderella broke the curse in Hyperion Heights, he could not go to her and tell her how much he loves her, to tell her he's sorry that his cursed self was not there for her.  He could not hug her as Henry did with Lucy, Cinderella and Regina, not the way Zelena did with Robin. Not the way the more superior version of himself did when he arrived with his lovely wife and their young brown haired daughter with green eyes in his arms. He envied the other version of himself as the younger man kissed the Swan girl and held his own daughter close.

No Killian could not walk within ten feet of his teenage daughter. He could only look at her from a far and hope that that look was good enough to tell her how much he felt. 

He left her a note before he left, saying that he would do anything and everything to get back to her with a cure for his poisoned heart. 

Not that he is back, however, he doesn't know where to start.

Prince Henry has put a strict ban on magic after witnessing his grandparents demise, so acquiring any magic would become a real adventure in itself. Killian does have a lead though, courtesy of the Swan girl and the Mills Sisters, and with his newly rejuvenated look he can avoid any bounty on his head, even pretend to be someone else. The item he is looking for is white magic and it is said that a noble has come to possess it and has been using it to cure ailments at a price. This information has been well hidden, known as only rumors to the public, but Killian knows better. 

 And its not as if he has any choice. He is a desperate man and desperate men are willing to fight for what they want.

The journey to the nobleman's fort is a long one. It is deep within the forest, on a jagged path that seems to go nowhere. Killian holds onto the rook in his pocket as he urges his horse through the deadly route, hoping that this lead is not as much a dead end as it seems. 

Finally the fort comes into view. It looks to be an abandoned military warehouse as it is smaller than he expected and lacking any windows. An eerily familiar tower that reaches the heavens is the only part of the structure that has a window. Killian doesn't stare at it too long, wretched memories of another tower invading his mind.

Guards in dark uniforms meet him at the door, frisking him for weapons and taking his horse before slowing him to step into the door. Inside it is just as dark, with silver and pewter bringing shine to the otherwise dull and empty room. An unnecessarily large oak table sits in the center of the room with papers and books littered across it. A man, no older than Killian appears, sits at the table, his face looking stern and bored as an elderly woman stands in front of him pleading for him to here him out.

"Please, Baron Von Rothbart! I beg of you. My daughter is on her death bed."

Killian flinches at the old woman's words, his mind immediately jumping to Alice and what he would do if she were ever in that position.

"The terms are quite simple, Madame." Rothbart states, bored. "I provide you with the white cure and you provide payment. You have failed to procure the desired sum and therefore I cannot help you."

"Please, Sir! It's all I have. Have mercy! She is only 18!"

"You knew the deal. You failed to honor it." Rothbart snaps, growing impatient. "And in doing so, you failed your dear daughter."

Hook's throat tightens. He knows he is carrying a small fortune but he only has a little more than what the woman is offering. She wails, collecting her gold back into a pouch with shaky hands and is dragged away by one of the guards. 

"You." Rothbart says, not bothering to look at him, his eyes glued to the parchment he is writing upon. "What is your business here?" 

"I seek a cure for a poisoned heart." Killian says in a firm voice.

"Hmm... Don't we all." The menace sneers, looking up at him. He's handsome but with wicked harsh features that would make any woman cower. "What I am interested in, is what you have on your person, pirate."

"Two-hundred gold pieces." Killian growls. "Which can be yours once I have the cure." He plays with his hook, drawing Rothbart's attention to it, and does not dare break eye contact with Rothbart, refusing to show fear. 

"Luckily for you that just meets the price for my cure." Rothbart motions to a guard who approaches bearing an open chest containing 3 vials of white glowing liquid. He picks one up and hands it to Killian.

"This will cure a poisoned heart?" He asks warily.

"It cures all. It's white magic in its purest form. Now the payment if you will."

Killian hands him the pouch of gold. "If this doesn't work. If this is a sham, I will be back." 

"I don't doubt it, Captain." Rothbart says counting the good. "But I think you will find yourself satisfied with the product."

"What's this bloody made of anyway?" Hook pockets the vial.

"The purest magic: True love. A savior for all." Rothbart chuckles wickedly. "Now unless you want anything else, I suggest you be on your way, pirate."

Killian glares at the man but says nothing, turning around to the doors. 

I'm on my way, Alice. He thinks

The guards let him be as he mounts his steed and rides towards the exit. As he enters the woods however, he hears sobbing to his right. The odd woman from before is crouched down crying on the ground.

"Milady..." Killian begins.

"Two blasted coins." She says. "I was off by two coins. And now my daughter will die." She wipes her eyes and looks to the fort. Hook chokes up, feeling the weight of the vial burning a hole through his chest. "I thought that because he has an endless supply of white magic that he would be lenient."

"Endless?" He perks up. "What do you mean endless?" 

"He has access to a pure creature. The embodiment of true love itself. He drains it of its magic and makes profit off of it to those desperate enough for an all cure." She sniffs. "I sold everything I had. But it still wasn't enough for the Baron."

Bringing his fingers to his brow he sighs loudly, once again he is going to fail her. Some father he is. But looking at the sobbing old woman he can't help but pity her. No. Alice would want this.

"Give this to your daughter."  The woman stares at him in shock as he hands her the vial of glowing white. "Go on. Save her."

"Oh thank you, kind sir!" The woman sobs, in relief instead of despair. She quickly reaches under her cloak to the pouch of coins attached to her belt, but he puts his hand up to stop her.

"No, keep your money."

"But why? What about your ailment?" 

"As much as it pain me, your daughter's life is worth more. I will find another way." He sighs.

"May Athena bless you, sir." She cries in delight, taking the vial from him. Ready to dash away, she stops a moment and turns back towards him seeing his gaze upon the fort. "I can only guess what you plan to do, but beware. They say the Baron holds power unlike anything else."

"Thank you ma'am." Killian smiles sadly, watching her scurry away into the darkness of the forest. 

He leads his horse off the path and ties her to a tree, loading his person with weapons. He will not leave this fort without a cure. He will not.

Killian approaches the fort once more, this time as carefully and quietly as possible. As far as Rothbart and his men know, Killian got what he wanted and was on his way, and maintaining that pretense is more than favorable. His guards don't look as intimidating as they should. One is leaning against the wall by the door yawning away while the other kicks stones around. The problem is that they are by the main and, by the looks of it, only door. The entrance.

But like a bright star shining light in the darkness and guiding sailors through the vast sea, a white glow emanates from above. It draws Killian's attention to the tower where a white light flashes magically... magic... White magic!

That must be where the wretch keeps his source of white magic and if Hook can get his hands on it, he can cure his poisoned heart. The only problem is getting to it...

Scaling walls is not as easy as it looks. Despite Killian's experience doing so and the gift of a more limber form, its still tricky. Unlike Rapunzel's tower, the walls of this fort are of smoother stones that are more compact together, making it difficult to find a foot hold nor pull himself up. It makes the entire thing trickier, slowing him down, increasing the chances that someone might catch him trying to break in. The guards are thankfully unaware of his misdeed, sharing a bottle between them. Bad form, he thinks, although their bad luck is what's aiding him on his quest. 

The only way that he can gain entry to this place is through the window at the highest tower. Of course that would be the only way in, he snorts, heaving himself up with his hook.

It takes some to finally reach the windowsill, his muscles protest as he heaves himself up one last time. With his forearms on the ledge and foot planted against it he jumps in through the window, his blue eyes immediately scan the small room it reveals. It is plain and matches the rest of the fort, but the most striking difference is the almost home-like and cozy appeal to it, with a lounge chair against the wall and several pillows propped up upon it and a slate gray woolen blanket at the foot of it. There are several art supplies at a small table and papers with intricate drawings of the sky, sea, buttercups and swans. There is something bright about this room and it has nothing to do with the color scheme. 

Killian slowly traverses across, looking for vials of white magic. It has to be here, he saw the white glow come from this room, but there’s no sign of any magic, not even a speck of fairy dust, it is just an empty room. He sits by the table hoping that the sketches may provide some insight to what the magical source may be. It is white magic, so it isn’t likely to be dangerous, however all magic comes with a price as he has come to learn, so he peruses the area with caution.

Some scuffling can be heard coming from the door a few feet away from him. His brain switches into high alert and he quickly finds a place to hide behind the head of the lounge chair, his hook and sword at the ready, The disturbance grows louder. It’s a combination of metal colliding and feet stomping and muffled voices that become crystal clear as the door is flung open.

“There, there, now my darling.” Rothbart’s voice cuts through the air. “That wasn’t so bad. Maybe next time you’ll be less resistant. You know your efforts are futile, why do you still fight me?”

A smack echoes through the room followed by a whimper.

“You silly creature!” The terror roars. “You could have it all! Everyone you love is dead. No one will come to save you.” The whimpering intensifies “Either you learn to be more pliant, more willing, or you’ll remain in this tower for eternity.”

“I will never submit to you.”

Killian almost jumps out of his skin at the sound of that voice. He knows it so well, a siren’s call within his dreams, a taunting nightmare of what he could have had if fate had altered her course. But as he peers from his hiding place, he sees the unmistakable golden waves over slim shoulders of a woman crouched onto the cold floor.

“I will never marry you. I will never willingly give you my magic. I will never love you, Rothbart. You are a monster.”

“I may be a monster, Princess, but you are weak and have no other choice. I will get what I want sooner or later.” With that, Rothbart spins on his heels and marches out of the room, slamming the door behind him with a bang, followed by the sound of a lock clicking into place.

Soft cries begin to fill the small space, finally drawing Killian out of his shock. How is she here? Was there another curse? Another wish gone wrong? How can she be back, especially here in this wretched place? He had just left her and his other self back at Hyperion Heights with Henry and the rest of his family. She’s the one who told him to come here! So how was she here? And the condition that she is in? No woman in her position should be exposed to such environments.

“Swan?” Killian croaks, emerging from his hiding place.

She turns around quickly and stares back in silence, giving him a chance to examine her. She’s a little different. Her golden hair is matted, part of it still in a braid that seems like it was done in a haste days ago. Her red jacket has been replaced by a ragged dark linen dress and torn brown cloak. The once glowing skin is now pale and her cheeks are slightly hollowed. Her muted green and wet eyes continue to dash across his figure, her dry rose colored lips parted in awe.

“Love what happened? How has Rothbart come to capture you? Where is Killian?” He takes a step towards her, stopping as she retreats. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Who- who are you?” she croaks.

“You- you don’t remember who you are, love?” His shoulders sag. So it is another curse, or some sort of memory loss that is clouding her mind. I guess she won’t be able to help me, bloody hell! He rubs his temples to relieve the ache that begins to simmer.

“I know who I am!” She says defiantly. “I am Princess Emma of Misthaven, heir to Queen Snow and King David, mother of the crown Prince Henry. Who are you and what do you want?”

“Easy, love.” He puts his hand and hook up in surrender. She gasps at the sight, and backs up even further. “Relax love. I am not here to hurt you!”

“Then why are you here?” She hisses. “Come to see what Rothbart’s special treasure was? Come to steal my magic too?!”

“Your magic?” Killian exclaims. Everything starts to make even less sense then it did before. How could she be the source of magic when Rothbart’s special potion has been around for over a year? In fact the rumors claim he gained power right around the time that the Swa... No.

“Love, how long have you been a prisoner here?”

“I am not your love!”

“Please, your highness, answer the question.”

“Three years.”

Three years. Three years ago he encountered Emma Swan along with the woodcutter in the forest. Three years ago he foolishly attempted to be her hero and was thrown on his sorry arse with a blast of magic, and woke up on the deck of the Jolly feeling like utter shite. Two years ago, he had heard Henry’s voice through the magic bottle on his person calling for Emma Swan, Regina and Captain Hook. Two years ago Lady Tremaine granted him his younger self’s physique and brooding appeal as he attempted foolishly to con Emma into believing he was the man she fell in love with, the man who’s child she was carrying.

They told him he was part of a realm created by a wish, that he was not real. But he felt real, he knew he was real. He knows he is real. Could the lost woman in front of him be his princess?

“How did Rothbart capture you?” He croaks.

“I don’t know, a cloud of smoke surrounded me and I ended up deep in the woods. Rothbart found me and offered me a place to stay. He knew I had magic and when I tried to leave he forced these on me.” She shows him a pair of leather cuffs around her wrists. “They dampen my magic so I can’t escape, not that I knew how to use it. My parents they...” she begins to whimper. “They never wanted me to get lost in magic, they didn’t want me to become like the Evil Queen.” Her green eyes peer up at him as she takes a brave step forward. “Please, sir... is it true? Are they really dead?”

“Aye, love. I am sorry, truly.”

She falls to the ground and weeps gently. He does not think, the instinct to protect her overriding all else, and he sinks down to her level, putting a comforting arm around her, bringing her into a tight embrace. She melts into his touch, burrowing her face into his neck as he rubs her back soothingly. He doesn’t understand his need to hold her as she mourns, but he vows to have a chat with Regina when he returns to Hyperion Heights.

“Swa-Emma, please love. We must leave soon before Rothbart returns.”

She lifts her head to look at him confused, and as if just realizing the position they are in, untangles herself from his and backs away trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

“Why?” She demands, authority oozing through her. “Why would you help me? Why would I trust you?”

“I know your son.” It’s not a complete lie. He does know and is close friends with Henry, well a version of him anyway.

“My son, is an acquaintance of a pirate?” she asks in disbelief.

“Aye, Captain Killian Jones at your service.” He gives a little bow. “Now do you want to escape or not? We’ve not much time.”

She looks between him and the door behind her, worrying her lips as she contemplates. He feels a strong urge to bite the lip but then shakes himself out of that thought as she turns back to him.

“Fine. But don’t think I’m taking my eyes off of you for one second.”

“I’d despair if you did.”

They wait until Rothbart comes again to restock his magic supply. Turns out the magic dampeners not only prevent Emma from using her magic but also limit the amount he can take from her, which is only three vials worth at a time. He uses an enchanted crystal bottle which extracts magic from anything it touches and converts it into a potion. Because Emma is the product of true love, her magic is capable of combating various forms of dark magic, and the potion Rothbart is capable of extracting is thus powerful enough to cure hexes, curses and many poisons, something that make Killian’s ears perk up. He plans to steal a vial during their escape.

He doesn’t know why he is so compelled to save the Princess instead of getting what he came here for. Maybe it has to do with his his brother’s voice screaming in his head to stick to good form and save the damsel in distress. Maybe it’s the newfound compassion he acquired from being Officer Rogers. Maybe the fact that the alternate versions of themselves share true love is forcing him to feel responsible for her. Or maybe you just fancy her you daft fool!

The door handle begins to rattle as Rothbart unlocks it from the other side. Emma is sitting at the center of the room, her hands in her lap, and Killian at the other side of the door ready for her to attack. The second the Baron enters the room, Killian knocks him out with his hook, causing Rothbart to drop the enchanted bottle to the ground. Emma can’t say that she sheds a tear as it shatters into millions of tiny fragments, never to be used to harm ever again.

Killian drags the wretch’s limp form further into the room and ties him up. He looks to see the princess glaring at Rothbart but also shaking.

“Are you alright, love?”

“Yes.” She says quickly. “It’s just... I am a coward. I could have done this myself and maybe saved all of the people he was stealing from... but...”

“Hey. Do not blame yourself.” He approaches her and tilts her head up to meet him. “He won’t hurt you anymore, or anyone else for that matter. Now come on, let’s stick to the plan and get you home, aye?”

She nods and gives a kind smile back to him.

They lock the door before they leave and make sure to break the key in the lock so that it’s almost impossible for anyone to unlock it for him. There are only two guards in the entire fort. The Baron was too cheap to pay for more people and he did not need anyone else. Most feared the rumors that a deadly beast was the source of his powers and never bothered to steal from him... that is until Killian came along.

They did not expect the guards to remain too blissfully unaware for long, the two fools running up towards the pirate and princess as they began descending the long spiral staircase in the tower. Emma freezes slightly at the sight of the two burly men and Killian steps in front of her, readying his sword. She watches in complete fascination as he thwarts them, knocking them both easily to the ground with well practiced footwork and a couple of swipes of his sword and hook. She is even more impressed that he leaves them alive, falsifying all the stories she heard of pirates being evil and ruthless killers.

As he sheathes his sword, he looks up at her, giving her a once over to ensure that she is okay. He holds out his hand and she takes it without question, being lead around the two bodies napping on the steps and down towards her freedom.

When they get to the main entrance, Killian pauses, looking to the Rothbart’s large desk longingly.

“What’s wrong?” The princess asks, turning back to him.

He looks back at her and dons a well practiced smile that he has used countless times on Alice when he did not want her to share his burden of worry.

“Nothing, Princess.” He looks back at the desk. “I was thinking, maybe we should destroy the remainder of Rothbart’s stash so that he may not use it to exploit your subjects anymore.” “Good idea, Captain.” Emma says, and it’s permission enough for him to hurry behind the desk and grab the vials. There’s two of them, filled to the brim with glowing white, and he takes them from the chest they have been stored in and throws them into the brilliant fireplace.

“Good riddance.” He smiles sadly, and Emma nods in agreement. “Come, Princess, let’s get you home.”

The moon is at the highest point in the sky as they leave the fort. Killian mounts his trusty stallion and offers Emma a hand to help her up behind him. She takes it without pause and he can’t help but feel over zealous at the warmth she provides at his back, the way her soft breaths tickle the skin at his neck and the way her hands feel circled around his waist. The ride hard for a few hours until they are well out of the dark forest and into a new, less dense area of the woods. He can tell that she is tired as he halts his horse. She has been resting her head on his shoulder for the last few minutes trying to catch some shut eye, and he himself is no better, the strain in his own eyes causing a migraine to brew in the back of his head.

Emma lifts her head as he begins to dismount.

“Wh-why have we stopped?” she asks, taken his hand to follow suit.

“It’s been a long night, you need to rest.” Killian replies. “This area will do quite nicely for a short slumber. I will take first watch.”

“First watch?” she repeats confused. Her hand comes out to grip the cloak tighter.

“Aye, we should take turns keeping watch for anything that might harm us, or anyone who might have followed us out.” He starts collecting twigs from the ground, putting them in a pile near a fallen log.

“You think they might have followed us?” She asks in a small voice.

“I wouldn’t put it past the bloody sod.” Killian replies. He looks up to see her worrying her lip once more. “Darling, if they dare come across us again, I will protect you.” He assures her.

“And why would you?” She snaps. “How do you really know me?”

“Love.. I”

“And don’t say Henry sent you. I know you are lying.” She crosses her arms, just as defiant as her counterpart.

“I wouldn’t know how to begin, Swan.” Killian groans, slumping on the log.

Emma kneels in front of the pile of twigs and grabs two stones, hitting them together until a spark is born and a small flame ignites.

“You can start with why you keep calling me Swan.” She says, catching him stare at her curiously.

“Caught that did, you?” He laughs nervously.

She glares at him. 

“It’s a really long story... bloody hell.” He groans.

Emma sits beside him on the log, giving him a pointed look.

“We have enough time for you to start.”

“Aye.” He sighs. He stretches his legs out in front of him. “Long story short, there are other realms similar to ours yet alternative, where we have taken different paths and ended with different futures. I encountered another realms version of you. Her name was Emma Swan.” He looks into her green eyes, trying to assess her response. She probably thinks he is crazy, delusional even, but she cracks a warm smile in return.

“Truth.” She says quietly.

“You believe me?” He asks in disbelief. Why would a royal trust him?

“Yes,  I do.” Emma states firmly. “I know when people lie, it’s the only gift I have that I can actually use. So, tell me about this Emma Swan?”

“She’s a mother like you, and a princess.” She grins and he smiles back. “She’s cunning, smart, beautiful.” She blushes and licks her lips. “She’s strong, a fierce warrior.”

“Unlike me.” The princess says sadly.

“Princess, you were scared and a prisoner of a horrid man. You cannot blame yourself for your predicament.”

“I’m not just talking about that. My entire life, I have been scared in a tiny bubble in the castle. I never went out on my own adventure, I’ve never fought for anything. I don’t even know how to hold a sword. I’m a coward.” She laughs.

“No you’re not. The gods know I’ve dealt with many cowards and you don’t meet any of their criteria. You may have not been in battles but your are just as brave and strong as the other Emma.”

“You really think so?” She peers up at him in wonder, and if he did not know any better he could have sworn that she scooted closer to him.

“Aye, love.” Killian says sincerely. “And I quite fancy you from time to time... when you’re not yelling at me.” He smirks and she rolls her eyes. “if you want... I could always teach you how to use a sword.” He scratches the back of his ear.

“I’d like that, Captain.” She smiles.

“Call me Killian, your highness.”

“As long as you call me Emma.”

They stare at each other for a second more and then look away as if they were burned.

“So...” Emma begins. “When you thought I was the other Emma in the tower, you asked where Killian was... Your name is Killian, so I’m guessing the other Emma knows her realm’s version of you?”

Bloody hell...

“Erm...” His hand finds its way back to his ear. “Aye, they know each other very well.” So well that they have a daughter and another wee one along the way. “You should get some rest, love.” He says quickly, standing up and away from his doppelgänger’s true love’s doppelgänger.

“Right.” Emma raises her brow amused.

“I will wake you up in 2 hours.” He states mechanically, as if he’s reciting the Miranda rights to someone.

“Okay. Goodnight... Killian.”

“Goodnight, Emma.” END OF PART ONE

[petri808]

Alone No More

Fic Writer’s Appreciation- January 2018 Writing Challenge January (2018) Day 13  Magic AU NaLu  6K+ words

“God, I hate him!” she screams to no one but the birds chirping away overhead.  

As she trudges through the forest, Lucy shifts the heavy sack she carries, filled with whatever possessions she could take in her haste to leave.  It has been almost a week since she had run away from her village and her father and since he is most likely searching for her, the young girl is constantly on the move staying as far away from any roads or travelled paths to avoid being found.  Tired and thirsty, she stops along a small river is thrilled with the cool liquid quenching her parched throat.  

After filling her water-gourd she sits back just to rest for a spell since her feet are aching from all the walking and close her eyes, enjoying the rays of the sun.  Exhaling, Lucy has no idea where she is heading, but just this small taste of freedom makes her feel better.  

And that’s when the sound of a twig snapping catches her attention.  Worried it could be someone looking for her, she stands up ready to grab her bag and go, but no one comes out of the bushes.  A second sound of disturbed foliage, followed by a whimper, like someone or something in pain.  

Now that’s something the healer cannot ignore.  Lucy picks up her sack and cautiously pushes her way through the underbrush.  “Is someone hurt?” she calls out.  “if you are don’t be afraid, I can help you.”  Nothing responds, but as soon as she makes it into a small clearing, the sight in front of her stops her advancement; a red dragon.

‘But dragons have all gone extinct,’ she ponders, ‘right?  Tch, clearly not unless my eyes are deceiving me.’  The dragon has frozen in place, lowering its head ready to attack if prompted.  Lucy puts her bag down and holds her hands out to show she is not a threat.  “I won’t hurt you,” softening her voice, “I promise.”

Scanning over the creature, it appears to be about 8 feet tall with the girth of a bull, wings folded down over its back, large claws on its feet, and a long snout.  But as she looks closer, the young girl can see a large wound to one of it’s wings.  Maybe it was attacked by another animal or possibly even poachers or hunters thinking they had lucked into such a rare and priceless find.  

“Please don’t be frightened,” still holding out her hands, she slowly inches her way towards it.  “My name is Lucy and I’m a healer, do you understand?”  Watching its reactions, the dragon stays hunched but still doesn’t move.  “I can fix your wing if you let me.”  Close enough now to touch it, she allows the dragon to smell her hands, it snorts, and lies all the way down.  “Thank you, Mr. Dragon, this might hurt at first, but I swear on my mother, you’ll be good as new in a few minutes.”

The dragon simply watches as the young girl utters a string of incantations and her hands start to glow.  As she lays them over the wound, it feels a slight burning, tingling sensation, and now the area around the wing begins to glow as well, the wound slowly closing-up.  She continues to mutter the strange language with her eyes closed until the injury is completely healed.  

Finally, she steps away, no longer glowing, “all better.”  Lucy smiles when the dragon sits up and stretches out the wing as if examining the leathery appendage.  It turns to her, is that a smile on its face?  But that’s the last thing she remembers thinking before passing out from the drain on her energy.  

When Lucy opens her eyes again, all she can see is darkness and feels something warm against her, or more like she is resting against a large warm body.  She narrows her eyes, trying to adjust to the conditions around her and after a couple minutes, they begin to focus.  A very dim illumination, possibly moonlight comes into view, telling the young woman it is already evening, and with that, an outline of the dragon she helped earlier finally confirms what she had assumed all along.

‘I must have passed out again,’ healing such a large magical creature must have taken more energy than she had expected, ‘and it brought me here?’  Looking around a little, ‘But where is here?  Oh no my belongings!’  Lucy tries to get up quietly, but the dragon wraps it’s tail around her keeping her close.  

“Look, thanks for watching over me when I fainted but I need to get my things, that bag had everything I own in this world.” The dragon snorts and points with one its claws near the entrance.  Lucy squints and sees the bag.  “Oh, thank God,” she breathes a sigh of relief.  “But really, could you please let me up?  I know it’s nighttime, but I need to find food, or I might pass out again.”  

Again, the dragon snorts but stands up. “Thank you,” she takes a step, but it blocks her path.  “What, I thought…” It taps the ground with it’s foot.  “I don’t understand…”  It pushes her back a couple feet with its tail and taps its foot on the ground a second time.  “You want me to stay?  But I need food…” Without another gesture, the dragon walks out of the cave.  ‘Great,’ Lucy thinks, ‘Well hopefully it comes back with something.’

While Lucy waits for the dragon to return, she grabs her bag and pulls it closer to where they were resting and searching through it’s contents, the young healer finds her glow wand; now at least she has some light.  She leaves the mouth of the cave and finds a dense pine forest surrounding it, and based on the temperature, it’s probably a little higher in the mountains than most would travel to.  She shivers and rubs her arms, maybe she should try to get a fire going?  

Searching through the brush and bushes, she grabs as many twigs and sticks as she can carry, hauling them back to the cave.  But getting a fire started is not exactly easy.  Because of the higher elevation, the foliage of the area is damp and all she is managing to produce is some smoke.  “Ugh!” she tosses the flints to the ground, opting to simply wrap herself up in a blanket until the dragon returns.

Luckily for the girl, that doesn’t take long; a rush of air into the cave signals its flighted return.  The dragon walks up to her and drops a nice sized hare at her feet.  “Wow, thanks…  But I can’t eat it raw.”  It snorts and picks the rabbit back up going to the entrance before dropping it and blows a stream of fire onto it, cooking it well.  “Awesome!” Lucy shrieks, “Can you help me with that too?” and points to her pile of sticks.  “So, I can see while I eat?”  The dragon obliges and easily sets it ablaze.  “Yay!” she throws her arms around its neck, “Thank you!”  

She’s a little surprised when the dragon turns its head and seems to nuzzle her back as she hugs it.  ‘It’s such a sweet dragon…’ she tightens her grip, ‘and to think all the stories said they were mean and that’s why humans wiped them out…’

When she lets go, the dragon simply goes back to lying down where it had been, so Lucy takes the rabbit and a knife from her bag, to remove the outer fur and skin.  It was nice and hot, “Mmm… so yummy,” she groans, “I haven’t had any meat since I left my village.”  The dragon simply watches her while she eats and talks…

“If your wondering why a young girl would be roaming through a forest unaccompanied, it’s because I ran away from home,” Lucy looks up from her food.  “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, or if you can understand anything I’m saying but, it’s kinda nice to talk to someone and, I just have this strange feeling like I can trust you.”  

The dragon tilts its head slightly before resting it on the ground as if to say, continue.  “You see my father, he was pressuring me to marry some guy from a neighboring village that I’ve never met before, just so he could combine our clans.  I told him off.” She sighs, looking down at the ground, “My mother would have never allowed him to do it, but she died when I was little.  Ugh!  He treats me like some possession he can simply barter away, and to think I am his only child.  I mean what kind of parent does that?” Another sigh.  

“But anyways,” smiling again, “He can’t force me to do anything, I’m an adult whether he likes it or not and I have my own aspirations for my life and thanks to my mom, I’m stronger than he is.”  Lucy makes her hand glow, “I inherited her healing gifts when she died,” the glowing stops, “and her love of the stars.  Looking back at the dragon.  “One day, I’ll settle down, have children, but it will be on my terms, with whomever I fall in love with.”  She chuckles, “Maybe I’ll even catch me a Prince.”        

She throws the bones and scraps into the fire and walks over to the creature, sitting in front of it.    “Anyways, are you all alone?” staring into it’s emerald green eyes, “I’ve only heard legends about mean dragons before.”  Lucy leans back and smiles, “But you’re really nice, I’m glad I ran into you.”  With a big yawn, she stretches her arms above her head, “I guess I should get some sleep now that I’ve eaten.” Lowering her gaze, her voice softens, “You won’t leave me alone, will you?”  

Without a second of hesitation, the dragon reaches out with its front legs and scoops her up, placing her against it’s side before wrapping its tail around her too.  “Good night,” Lucy murmurs as she snuggles in, and the dragon curls its head, closing its eyes.  

The next morning, the dragon wakes up the sleeping blonde, nuzzling her with it’s snout.  She stretches and yawns with a smile, “Good Morning.”  It had been the most peaceful sleep she had had in a long time, maybe years.  

Standing and stretching a second time, now in the light of day she can see her surroundings better.  It had brought them to a simple cave, but based on some of the claw marks and compacted soils in some areas, it was no random cave.  

“Do you live here?” inquiring of the creature, “Is this your home?”  It shakes its head, no.  “You just come here a lot?”  The dragon looks down.  “So, if this isn’t your actual home, where would that be?”  It looks towards the cave entrance.  “Somewhere else?” Lucy asks.    

Prompting the young girl with its snout and tail, it pushes her towards it’s back.  “You want me to get on, your back?” she looks at the dragon.  Again, it’s tail prods her movement as if to say hurry up and get on.  “Alright,” she manages to climb up using its back leg as a step, and once on top she looks around for some way to hold on.  The scales around the top of its neck are tiled, it’s her best option.  “Please, don’t forget my things.”  Picking up the strap of her bag with its teeth it walks out of the cave and takes flight once clear.    

It soars high into the powder blue sky, heading towards the East.  “Wow!” she giggles, “This is so cool!”  To experience something that no human could dream of doing was amazing; she hugs his neck, “It feels so free up here…”  

As they travel, Lucy spends half of the time hugging to the dragon and the other watching the landscape pass under them.  It had taken them to a cave high in the mountains so as they descend, it flies over the forest, passes fields, and rivers, and a couple of small villages.  

But soon a large one comes into view.  “Isn’t that the capital?”  She had only been there once when her father wanted her to be eye candy for some potential commodity brokers.  “You live in Kelekona?!” asking again.  Of course, it can’t respond to her question, but the answer becomes clear when it heads directly for the palace.  

“Wait, there’s no way…”  ‘This dragon’s home is at the palace?!’  “…the palace is your home?!”

The dragon lands in one of the enclosed courtyards and as Lucy slides off, they are greeted by a palace guard.  “Ah, Natsu, you’ve returned.  King Igneel will be happy to see you.” Turning to Lucy who is nervously glued to his side, “and you’ve brought a guest,” the man grins, “Well, come in, you know where to find the King I’m sure,” and walks away.  

“N-natsu?” Lucy makes her way to the creature’s front, “Your name is Natsu?”  It blows out a puff of air.  She smiles, “At least I have a name to call you now.”

The young woman follows Natsu through the palace, simply amazed at the grand edifice.  Having grown up in a small village, such a large and stately place like this was worlds apart from what she knew.  But she was still curious about why they were here, was this dragon like a royal pet or something?  Palace staff greet the dragon when they pass by, even bowing to it like you would a royal guest and when they see her, many grin.  ‘Why are they looking at me like that?’ she wonders…

“Ah!  Natsu where have you been?” the king hugs the dragon.  “And who is this?” smiling at Lucy, “I have to say it’s a shock that Natsu brought a girl home.”

The young blonde blushes, “My name is Lucy, I sort of stumbled onto him when his wing was injured.”

The king frowns and shakes his head at the dragon who lowers its gaze, “Did you help him?”

“Yes,” she responds, “it took a lot out of me, but his wing is all healed.”

“Well, then,” King Igneel shakes her hand, “I am in your debt.  I don’t know what I would do if something happened to Natsu.”  The dragon snorts, or huffs as if it’s annoyed.  

“F-forgive me for asking but, how is it that a dragon lives in the palace?  He’s not some pet or anything because that would be wrong.”

King Igneel bellows with laughter, “No, no my dear,” he’s laughing so hard, his eyes are watery, “Natsu is just very special to me.”

“But…”

“Come,” the king grins and gestures for them to follow, “let me show you to a suite miss Lucy, you are welcomed to stay as long as you wish since Natsu seems to have taken a liking to you…”

The suite that King Igneel takes her to makes her heart jump, it’s bigger than her house back home!  “Are you serious?  I get to live, here?” she turns back to the King.  “But this is huge!”

The man laughs, “Well on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Technically, this is Natsu’s room, you’ll be sharing it with him.”

Lucy looks over to the dragon who has settled down near the bed and smiles.  “I don’t mind having Natsu for a roommate.”  

“Then it’s settled.  If you have any questions, please feel free to ask.  You are welcomed to anything here.  Servants will notify you before meals.  If you need to purchase anything just ask.” He looks at her bag, “and I have a feeling you will,” he taps his chin, “in fact I will send someone to take you shopping later.” He smiles and grins at the dragon, “I’m sure Natsu will like it when your dressed like a lady of this court.”  The dragon snorts and turns its head away.  Lucy blinks, if Natsu were human, she’d swear he was blushing right now.

“You’re too kind,” she bows to the king, “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Nonsense,” he waves his hand, “Your healing skills will be a great addition to the palace staff as well.”  

Once the king has left, Lucy takes in the expansive room for herself.  It holds such beautiful furnishings, a large 4 poster bed, dripping with luxurious sheer draperies in reds and golds and the royal seal emblazoned on it’s headboard.  Matching nightstands, armoires, dressers, a gilded mirror, everything and more that you’d expect in a palace bedroom.  

There is an adjoining bath, and a walk-in closet half filled with men’s clothing and accessories.  ‘I wonder whose clothes these are…’ she ponders as she brushes her fingers against them.  Some every day wear but many are fit for a king, ‘or prince?’  And even more curious to her, the other half of the closet is empty as if they knew she was coming.  Lucy shakes her head, impossible, this is probably just an extra room they could let the dragon use while here since it was big enough.  

As her exploration of the room progresses, the young girls stomach begins to grumble reminding her she hadn’t eaten breakfast and it was almost lunch time.  Natsu, who had been watching her the whole time, perks up and walks over to her, nudging at her side.  

“Yeah, I am getting hungry again.” Lucy smiles at Natsu, who starts pushing her towards the door.  “What are you doing?  The king said a servant will be by to announce lunch, I can wait…”  But that doesn’t deter the dragon who continues to push.  Lucy plants her feet, “Natsu, stop it.  I-I don’t want to inconvenience….” Finally, the dragon blows out a puff of air and picks her up with its tail, and places her on its back. 

“Natsu,” she tries to slide off, but the tail holds her down, “This is embarrassing...”  Sure, it had been fun while they were flying and no one was really looking, but riding on the back of dragon, it was quite un-lady like.  Ignoring her pleas, Natsu saunters out of the room and heads to, she assumes the kitchen.  Down hallways and corridors, passing room after room.  Each time they encounter a staff member Lucy hides her face.  The young woman doesn’t know anyone yet and doesn’t want to be looked upon as strange.  

Eventually, the smells of food cooking reach her nose and she can’t help but salivate from whatever delicious aromas were beyond the doorway.  Natsu stops and lays down to make it easier for Lucy to slide off, then points with its snout to the door.  “Go in there?” she asks.  He pushes her gently with his snout.  “O-okay…”

With a little hesitation, Lucy walks into the bustling kitchen with Natsu now taking up the doorframe.  “Hello?” she calls out, “I-I was wondering…”

“Oh Hello!” a pretty young woman with white hair peeks her head out of a pantry door.  “You must be Lady Lucy, are you hungry?”  She walks out with a few loaves of bread in her arms.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I guess my stomach doesn’t want to wait for lunch.”

“It’s no bother,” the woman puts her loaves on a counter.  “My name is Mira,” She smiles, “and my kitchen is always open.”  

“Thank you, Mira.  Um, how did you know who I was?”

“Oh,” she waves her hand and chuckles, “Word spreads quickly here, especially since it was Natsu who brought you.”  Mira looks over to the dragon.  “Are you hungry too?”  The dragon nods.  “He’s always hungry,” she whispers to Lucy, “I’ll whip you up something, Natsu be a dear and take Lucy to the smaller dining room.”

“I can help you Mira…”

“No, no,” she guides the blonde back to the door, “just follow Natsu, it won’t take me long.”

“Thank you again, Mira.”

“You are very welcome.”

After lunch, the King sent her with his seamstress, tailor, and a couple others with instructions that Lucy be given a full makeover, fit for life as a courtier.  Armfuls of dresses so lavish the young woman couldn’t believe they were considered simple day wear, shoes, undergarments, anything a young lady would need; and this was just to get her started.  The seamstress and tailor took her measurements for more custom attire.  A jeweler furnished beautiful earrings, necklaces, rings, and bracelets, to match the clothing.  And finally, her hair was revitalized, done up, make up applied and Lucy simply didn’t look like the same girl anymore.  

“Wow!” she shifted from side to side in the mirror, “Is that really me?”

“Tch,” Aquarius the seamstress snickers, “Who else would it be?  Just be grateful to King Igneel.”

“Oh, I am,” Lucy beams, “But thank you all, Mr. Capricorn, Mr. Cancer, and most of all Ms. Aquarius!  I feel like I’m in a fairytale!”

Capricorn, “Lady Lucy, I will escort you back to the palace while they finish up here.  Everything will be delivered to your room by dinner.”

“Okay,” she follows the tall, stately gentleman out, “Thanks again!” she waves at the other two.

But when they reach the palace, Lucy sees a quaint garden and asks to wander through, so Capricorn nods and heads back to the seamstress.  Such a peaceful area, with pathways, and statues, small streams and bridges, benches scattered around, even a couple gazebo’s.  ‘Maybe one evening I’ll come out here to star gaze…’

Lucy didn’t realize that the garden was just below her room, and when Natsu caught wind of her scent he looked over the balcony, watching her meander along the paths.  She was almost back where she started when a palace guard stepped out from under a tree.  “Hello gorgeous.”  The orange-haired man saunters up, “Your loveliness fits in well to such a picturesque scene,” and kisses her hand.

‘Oh, brother’, she rolls her eyes, “And you are?”

“Leo,” he bows, “at your service anytime, day or night,” he winks.  

“Well Mr. Leo it was nice meeting you, but I should go.”

“What’s the rush,” Leo closes the gap between them, until she can literally feel his breath against her skin.  Tipping her head up, “Do you…”

A whoosh of air and a thud startles them as Natsu lands at her side and physically pushes the man back.  The dragon growls low, protective over the girl.  “Natsu!” Lucy clings to his neck happy to be saved from the pervert.  

“Hey!” Leo puts his hands up in defense, “Sorry I didn’t know she meant that much to you Natsu.”  He backs away, “Won’t bother her again, I promise.”  Natsu snorts at the back-peddling guard.  

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Lucy snuggles her face into Natsu’s neck and he nuzzles her back.  “So,” she steps back and twirls for him, “How do I look?” Natsu nuzzles her face again.  She giggles, “I take that as you like it?”  he snorts.  “Yeah me too.”

True to his word, everything they had purchased that day was stocked in her closet by dinner and two servants named Aries and Virgo were assigned to her.  “My goodness, this is all too much!” Lucy whines as they dress and get her ready for dinner.  “I’m not a Princess, why is the King being so kind to me?  I-I’m really no more special than any other staff member.”  Her eyes widen, “He doesn’t fancy me, does he?!”

“No miss,” Aries assures her, “The King has his Queen and you will meet Grandeeney tonight.”

Lucy exhales, “That’s a relief.  But then why is he doing all of this?”

Virgo, “Natsu is…” she looks at Aries for a second as confirming her words before turning back to Lucy, “special to the king and since Natsu brought you here, that makes you special too.”

The healer scans over to the dragon who has suspiciously turned its head away, as if to avoid looking at her, “What does that even mean?”

Aries, “I’m sorry miss but we cannot say, perhaps you should ask the King.”  

“Yeah,” Lucy swears she hears Natsu sigh, “I think I will…”

After a private dinner with the King, Queen, and their daughter, Princess Wendy, Lucy requests to speak with the two royals alone.  Natsu, who had curled up near her chair looks up when they lead her to an adjoining parlor.  The royals sit on one couch and Lucy is gestured to another facing it.  

She starts off by thanking them for all their hospitality but, “I mean no disrespect by this, but I don’t understand why I am being treated so well.  I am a commoner, no noblewoman or royal, and yet to be dressed like a courtier, be given servants, it’s all too much.”

The King laughs, “I’ve never seen someone complain about being pampered before.”

Lucy flushes, “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean for it to sound that way,” bowing her head, “everyone has been so kind to me and I really haven’t done anything to deserve such special treatment.”

“On the contrary my dear,” Grandeeney responds, “Natsu feels you are special and therefore so do we.”

“But, still, I don’t want to be a burden, I-I’ve only known how to work to survive, not be catered to.” Exhale, “This lifestyle is very different than what I am used to.”

King Igneel, “I told you earlier, we will call upon you if your healing abilities are needed, besides, keeping Natsu company, and if you can keep him from wandering away from here, that would be a blessing.”

“Yes,” Grandeeney adds, “We always worry when he goes off on his own.  He may be a dragon, but he is young and reckless, often getting into mischief.”

“I guess I can do that.  May I ask, how long have you known Natsu?”

“Since he was born, oh, 22 years now.”

Lucy giggles, “He’s only a year older than me!”    

“Speaking of which,” Grandeeney looks over to the door, “I believe we should finish this conversation before he gets any more anxious from your absence.”

The young woman follows the Queens eyes and sees the tip of a snout peeking past the doors frame.  She chuckles, “Natsu?  We can see you.”  He sticks his head around the frame now.  Lucy waves him over and he quickly bounds in, excited.  She stands up and walks over to him, hugging his neck, “Awe did you miss me?” he nuzzles her back.

King Igneel smiles at his wife before turning his attentions to the pair.  “He’s never warmed up to a stranger so quickly, Lucy you truly have an effect on him.”

“All I did was heal a wound,” she smooths the skin around his muzzle and snout, “He’s the one whose taken care of me ever since.”  Smiling, she leans her cheek against his and closes her eyes for a moment.  

“It had drained a lot more of my energy than I had expected to fix his wing, so I passed out.  Natsu took me to a cave and watched over me until I woke up.  He caught a rabbit so that I could eat, kept me warm until morning, and now,” she opens her eyes again, “brought me here to you, wonderful people.  It is I, that is in his debt.”

Grandeeney, “Will you tell us a little more about yourself Lucy, why were you out in the woods alone?”

She sighs, “I was running away from my village.”  Giving one more caress to Natsu’s face, she goes back and sits on the couch while he lies down and waits.  “My father wanted me to marry a man to further his own agenda and I refused, but I could only fight back for so long, so, I ran a week ago.” looking over at the attentive dragon, “And that’s when I came across Natsu.  I have no idea how he got his injury, but it was bad enough that he wouldn’t be able to fly.”  

Grandeeney shoots the dragon a look that makes him turn away, like a child getting scolded by a parent.  “I worry that my father will find me and try to make me go home.”

“That won’t happen.” King Igneel declares in no uncertain terms, “as long as you are here, you are under our protection.”

“Thank you.” Lucy smiles

“No, thank you Lucy,” Grandeeney, “for bringing Natsu home to us…”

Aries and Virgo help Lucy out of the binding formal dress so she can take a bath before bed.  Virgo even scolds Natsu, warning him that he better not peek.  He huffs and turns away.  Lucy finds the exchange odd, I mean he is a dragon not a man, but she puts it out of her mind.

It had been a long day for her, and when she hits the soft bedding, her eyes drift shut ready for sleep to take her away, and yet it doesn’t.  She opens her eyes, letting them fall on the dragon curled up beside the bed, remembering the peaceful slumber she had the night before.  

Lucy grabs a pillow and comforter and snuggles herself against his warm body, “Good Night Natsu…”

~~~xx~~~

It’s been almost a full year since Natsu had brought Lucy to Kelekona but to her, it was like a lifetime ago.  She had met so many people and made so many friends not only in the palace but in the city that time had simply flown by unnoticed.  Some of the closest was a girl named Levy who loved reading about as much as Lucy did, Gray, Erza, Cana, Yukino; just too many to name.  

But nothing topped the close bond that she and Natsu had developed.  From the moment they met, the pair was inseparable, and the only times he left the city walls, was if Lucy was with him.  She loved it when he took her flying, especially at night, and sometimes he’d land on a high mountain peak, so she could stargaze.

Even when it came to bedtime, Lucy rarely slept on the bed, opting to cuddle against her dragon instead.  Something about him made her feel relaxed, safe, and dare she say it, loved.  Anytime they were around other people, he was very protective, especially when it came to males.  Leo had only been the first to witness such a display of territorialism, but he wasn’t the last, and a few didn’t walk away unscathed.  

She didn’t always like it when he acted aggressively, and she’d end up using her healing abilities to make sure there was no lasting damage, but at the same time, it made her heart flutter, like the knight protecting his beloved.  Her life was so blissful, the reason that triggered this adventure had already become a distant memory.

Until the message came.  

Natsu was out getting food again while Lucy relaxed in their room with a book when a servant brought her a letter addressed to her but with no sender.  Curious, she opens it and immediately the tears burst forth, her father was demanding she come home or he will send mercenaries to kidnap her the moment she leaves the palace grounds.

The letter flutters from her hand to the ground as she covers her face, sobbing hysterically.  How could he be so cruel?  Would he really send thugs to kidnap her?  Every fiber of her being screamed yes, so what should she do?  Should she tell the King?  

Just then Natsu comes running in, did he hear her cries, did he smell her tears?  Lucy flings herself on him, hugging to his neck.  Oh, how she wished he could talk!  But that’s okay, she was doing plenty of her own, broken and muffled through her sobs, but the emotions poured out like a broken fountain.  

“He says he’ll have me kidnapped, I-I can’t go back, I just can’t!  But what do I do, I can’t hide forever.” Her grip around Natsu tightens, “and I don’t want to be separated from you…”  He nuzzles her back.  “God, I wish you could talk, I wish you could tell me it’ll be alright.  I know if I’m with you I’ll be safe but just to hear it…” Lucy slumps to her knees.  “…would make me feel better.”  

The dragon paces for a few minutes as if it’s contemplating what to do.  She doesn’t know it but Natsu understands everything and it’s killing him that he can’t pull her tight and tell her what she wants to hear.  He wants to soothe her pain.

“Natsu?”  the dragon stops and walks back to her.  “If something happens,” she caresses his cheek, “and they do take me away…” he struggles, agitated by just the thought of men taking her from him.  “Natsu,” she cups his snout, “stop.”  Putting on a forced smile, “you made me so happy, that no matter what, I will always love you.”

Lucy kisses his nose and seals their fates forever.

A soft iridescent glow covers the dragon, envelopes his whole body in a serene aura.  Concerned, she reaches out to touch him, “N-Natsu?”  When her finger tips make contact with his skin, a jolt of energy surges through the blonde and she pulls back in shock, not from pain, she felt no malice, only the opposite; the emotion she felt in that rush was love, pure, and unending.  

Right before her eyes, the dragon’s body transforms, shrinking, elongating, changing.  The form of a human male begins to take shape, curled slightly on the ground, taller than she, muscular, lightly tanned smooth skin, pink spiky hair on his head and a few on his body…  Lucy is mesmerized and a little mortified at the naked guy lying at her feet.  She blushes and grabs the comforter off the bed, covering the man’s lower half.

As the transformation completes itself, the glow also subsides, “N-Natsu?” her voice trembling a little, she kneels and reaches out to his shoulder, “N-Natsu?”

“Lu…cy…” a weakened voice, barely a whisper comes out of him.  

“Natsu, is that you?” When he opens his eyes, she is greeted with the emerald jewels she’s come to know well.  “Natsu, that is you!  T-this is you!”  Throwing off her concerns she hugs him to her chest.  “Natsu!!” she cries, but tears of joy, “Oh my goodness!”

“Lucy…” he hugs her back, snuggling his face against her neck.  “Please don’t cry for me.”

“But I’m happy!” she tightens her embrace, “I can’t help it,” sniffling, “But, what the hell is going on?!”

He releases her and sits up, running his hand through his hair, “Well,” he grins, “Surprise?”

“Don’t surprise me mister, how did you go from a dragon to this?” she waves her hand at him.  “Although now things are making more sense to me, this really is your room, the clothes in the closet are your clothes.”  He nods.

“Two years ago, a wizard cursed me because I played a practical joke on him.  I thought it was funny as hell, and at first being a dragon was cool but, then it got lonely.”  Lucy sits down as he continues.  “I couldn’t talk to anybody, people were afraid of me…  eventually I started to stay away for longer and longer…”

“In that cave?”

He nods, “By the time you found me I didn’t care if I died, I just wanted to stop being so alone.  But then you weren’t afraid, you helped me despite what I was…” tears form in the corners of his eyes, “for the first time in those two years, I didn’t feel alone anymore.”

“Oh Natsu,” tears threaten to spill again.  She hugs him, “But why did you change back now?”

“We can answer that.”  The couple turns to the door way and see the King and Queen.  Igneel smiles, “the only way to break the curse was for Natsu to find love.”  

“True Love,” beams Grandeeney.  “The only magic more powerful than any curse.”

Natsu turns Lucy’s chin towards him, “I guess when you said you loved me, that broke the spell.”

“S-So, you really are a Prince?” she looks at him, then to the royals as they all nod.  

Grandeeney smiles at her as Igneel squeezes her waist, “I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you the truth my dear, but we had to let things happen on their own and hope for the best.”

“No wonder everyone always smiled or grinned at me,” she turns back to Natsu, “you all were hoping this would happen?”

Natsu’s eyes soften, “I fell in love with you since that cave Luce, and yes, I hoped that one day, you would feel the same way about me despite the form I held.”

Her eyes soften too, “I guess we both saved each other that day, huh?” caressing his cheek.  

“Oh, I’m not done yet.” The light in his eyes flash, “Dad, Lucy’s father is threatening to kidnap her.”

“He what!” Igneel bellows, “What fool dares to threaten someone in my court?!”  

Lucy had almost forgotten about the message, “H-he sent a letter saying he’d have me kidnapped and will force me into an arranged marriage.”

Igneel begins to shout again, “I will send…”

But Natsu waves his hand, “That’s not necessary dad, I have a better idea.”  Everyone looks at him confused as he turns to Lucy and takes her left hand.  “Marry me Lucy, be my Princess, my wife, my future queen and your father will have no choice to back off or it will be treason; surely he is not that big of a fool?”

Lucy blinks, “Me, a-a Princess?”

He grins, “Don’t forget future queen, I am the heir to the throne.”

“And I’d like to retire someday.” Igneel throws in taking a jab to his side by his wife.  “What?  Just saying…��� he laughs.

“Then yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes!” Lucy kisses Natsu on the lips, “I love you.”

Leaning his forehead to hers, “I love you too.”

Igneel clears his throat, “Now that, that is settled I’ll be sending a letter to your father informing him of your engagement to the Prince and that if he dares to get in the way he will be thrown in the dungeon.  As for you two, congratulations, and please son, put some clothes on.”  Lucy’s face grows crimson.

Natsu looks down, and laughs, “I forgot I was naked.”

“We’ll let everyone know you’re back,” his mom smiles, “How about a ball in your honor?  Ooh, an engagement ball!” Igneel starts to lead her away shaking his head but with a smile on his face, “I’m going to get Mira on that right away…”

“I’ll leave you alone, so you can change,” Lucy stands up to walk away, but he grabs her hand and yanks her into his lap.  “Natsu what are you…”

“After a year I finally get to hold you in my arms Luce, so you’re not going anywhere just yet.”

“Mmm,” she kisses him, “That’s fine with me…”

[the-jade-cross]

The Lion, the Witch, and the Elph - Chapter 12

When the six kids burst into the stone table room, it only took Rhea a second to take in everything before her.

“Peter, get Caspian away from that ice wall! Pheira, the hag! Rehtir, protect Lucy!”

The three rushed off immediately without question while Rhea and Edmund met the oncoming werewolf head on. The creature jumped at Edmund but the boy avoided it and Rhea tripped the beast with her axe blade before taking a slice at his shoulder with her sword.

The werewolf came charging at Rhea but Edmund quickly slid in front, using it’s distracted state in Rhea to bury his sword in his chest.

“Thanks,” The elph panted.

She looked around to see Pheira dealing with the hag and Rehtir, in panther form, wrapping himself protectively around Lucy and barring his teeth at Nikabrik before Trumpkin killed the black dwarf.

Rhea looked at the ice wall to see the White Witch talking to Peter.

“The ice,” she whispered to Edmund.

The boy nodded before running off. Rhea glanced at Peter to see that he had reached toward Jadis’s extended hand…

“Peter!” The girl cried.

The boy’s head snapped in her direction, eyes wide and face blank. When he saw her horrified, worried expression, he felt a deep pain grip his chest. Suddenly, Jadis’s hold over him seemed to break as the wall of ice shattered. There stood Edmund who looked at Peter’s hand which was coated in blood from his burst lip that Rhea had gifted him earlier.

“I know, you had it sorted. “He grumbled.

Peter looked back at Rhea to see Susan and Pheira standing behind her, disapproving looks on both of their faces before the two stormed out. Rehtir shifted back to human form before keeping one hand protectively around Lucy who welcomed the comfort and protection.

Rhea sighed, running her fingers through her hair before placing her axe back on her back, “Ed, I need help clearing out these bodies.”

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

Peter sat alone in the Stone Table room, staring at the carving of Aslan on the wall. He looked up when he heard footsteps only to meet the gaze of Rhea who stood before him with a rag and bowl of water.

“Lucy is busy healing the men,” The elph explained, sitting down beside him. “She asked me to take care of your injuries.” Dampening the rag, she began to clean the wound on his forehead gently.

“Lucy was so lucky,” Peter muttered. “To have been able to see Aslan…” Rhea smiled sadly. “One thing I have learnt about Aslan, he is not here to be seen and believed in, but to be felt and believed in. Perhaps he was testing you.”

Peter winced when Rhea put pressure on the wound and she retracted her hand.

“Sorry,” she whispered and was about to leave when Peter grabbed her wrist and looked at her earnestly.

“Why are you being so kind to me when all I have done since I have returned is make your life miserable?” he asked.

Rhea smiled gently, placing the water and rag on the floor, “You have made my life miserable since you left 1052 years ago. I have gotten used to it.” Peter could sense the teasing tone in her voice and he smiled.

“But,” Rhea whispered, causing the boy to look at her. “At the same time, you made my life beautiful. If it weren’t for you, I would not have gotten over my parents’ deaths or found love. And I wouldn’t have had two beautiful children to raise and love while you were gone.” Peter stared at her in surprise before Rhea reached over and touched his swollen lip.

“Sorry about that….” She winced, biting her lip at the memory of punching him. “I shouldn’t have done that. Though you were asking for it.” The girl chuckled lightly but Peter’s eyes were locked on where she was biting her lip.

“And you’re asking for this.” He muttered.

Before Rhea could speak, Peter had placed one hand on the back of her neck, the other on her hip before drawing her near and crashed his lips to hers. To both of them, it felt foreign having not done it in a while but at the same time, beautifully familiar. Peter felt his heart pound when Rhea turned to face him better, gripping the front of his tunic whilst gently moving her lips against his, being careful of his swollen lip.

When they finally pulled away, both were breathing heavily, faces flushed and eyes dark. Peter’s swollen lip looked worse, but he didn’t care when he noticed that Rhea’s lips were also bright red and swollen from the kiss.

“Still think I deserved that punch?” he whispered.

Rhea smiled, stroking his busted lip. “Definitely.” Peter would have kissed her again if Edmund hadn’t rushed in…. with not-so-good news

**********

Peter groaned as he tried to strap on his own armor. He had sent Caspian and Edmund to ensure that everyone was ready, and Rhea was sneaking Susan and Lucy out the back.

“need a hand?” a voice asked from behind.

Peter spun around, having not heard anyone approach from behind him, only to come face to face with Rehtir. The boy was already dressed and wearing a white outfit that really accented the lime of his eyes, the dark color of his lashes (which were rather long for a boy), the barely visible freckles adorning his nose and the pinkish hue of his slender lips.

His outfit reminded Peter of an ice wizard out of one of those fantasy mythical stories that Lucy would often read. He wore a simple black tank top shirt with the bottom of the shirt tucked into dark brown leather pants. His boots were knee high with a thick, square heel that seemed very masculine for heels but definitely suited Rehtir’s slender and graceful figure. Over his boots and most of his legs were dark grey iron guards that were the same color as his pants in such a way that they seemed a part of his pants. Around his waist was a thick leather belt that hung loosely to one side where his quiver of arrows hung. Overall of this he wore a silver coat that fell to his ankles but with the straps on the front unbuckled, leaving the front of his body exposed. The coat was lined with panther fur ironically and in being a dark grey colored fur, brought out the paleness of the coat. On each shoulder was a large pauldron with a brown wing like a bird. On his hands were thick leather gloves and his hair was left loose and untamed but slightly spiky like someone had frozen his hair.

On his back was strapped his crossbow and Peter saw that it was freshly polished to a shine.

Without waiting for Peter’s permission, Rehtir walked over and taking the straps from his father’s hands, began to strap on Peter’s armor with ease but without meeting Peter’s gaze.

“are you afraid?” Rehtir asked, strapping on Peter’s gauntlet.

“I do not know,” Peter admitted, “I guess I am worried.” Rehtir smiled and Peter couldn’t help but marvel at how much he looked like Rhea in that moment.

“I would be terrified. Fighting Telmarines on the field of battle or in a skirmish is one thing but to go head to head with one man, the rules of engagement holding you in place…. The survival of a people in your hands alone… I wouldn’t trust myself.” Peter shook his head ruefully as Rehtir bent down to strap on the leg guards.

“Why?” he whispered. “Why are you being so kind to me when everyone else hates me right now? I deserve your hate more than your kindness.” Rehtir chuckled, surprising Peter, “I have spent the 1022 years of my life watching my mother drive herself to the ground with work. Protecting us, raising us, protecting Narnia and keeping it alive…. For a long time I wondered how she did it alone. Then I found out. Every night she would go out and climb a tree to look at the stars. One night I joined her and she told me of my father that I knew existed but had never met. I never thought there was another person who could match my mother’s bravery, persistence, kindness and loyalty. But that night, I listened to my mother talk of a man of outstanding bravery, kindness and honor. I learnt of a man who made my mother talk in admiration and love.” Peter stared in shock as Rehtir finished and rose to his feet, looking his father in the eye, “I was not planning on ever breaking that love and admiration that my mother possesses and holds dear. Besides, I knew that Pheira would take care of the bickering and make sure you got an earful. She gets it from mother. I want to see my mother thrive and smile again. I know she cannot do that without you.”

As the young boy looked partially up at his father, Peter now understood it all. What Pehira had meant earlier about Rehtir being the one to keep Rhea going…. And the connection, the fondness, admiration, love and loyalty Peter had witnessed between mother and son. Peter had not been there for Rhea through a thousand years of pain and toil… but Rehtir had.

That was why they were so close and was why Pheira preferred her brother over Peter…. And Rhea had taken Rehtir’s side over Peter’s….. the boy had earned it.

Rehtir’s quiet sense of perception seemed to pick up the turning of Peter’s brain geras and the boy smiled, knowing what his father was thinking.

“Pheira doesn’t hate you, she has just never really been waiting for you. Since mother had told us of you, I have been supporting mother and waiting in anticipation for your return. Pheira is the opposite. She feels that mother does not need you because I am here. That is why I am choosing to stay aloft with the archers.”

The boy grabbed Peter’s sword and held it out to him. Peter took it before sheathing it and sighing.

“What must I do?” he asked.

Slight surprise crossed Rehtir’s face but was quickly replaced by hope and admiration.

“Pheira is the warrior of the two of us. I may be the one to protect from afar and offer backup, but Pheira is the bull in the herd of cattle, the viper amongst the grass snakes. I know for a fact that is who you are as well. Be yourself and don’t try to be someone you are not. You are enough as you are. Show Pheira that.” With that, Rehtir turned to leave and Peter gazed down at the floor. For a year he had yearned to return to Narnia…. To being a king and a warrior…. But now those duties were no longer as important as they had used to be back in London….

“You have never called me by my name,” Peter whispered, causing Rehtir to stop in his tracks.

The boy turned slightly so Peter could see the soft, gentle look on his face, “Calling you by your name is not my place nor Pheira’s. One of the things mum taught us was to never call anyone anything unless they gave you permission.” “You can,” Peter muttered.

Rehtir turned all the way around to look at Peter in surprise.

“You may call me whatever you deem me worthy of,” the blond whispered.

A huge smile lit up Rehtir’s face and crossing the room, threw his arms around Peter in the best hug he could manage around the armor they wore.

Peter froze at first but quickly composed himself and hugged the boy back, only to have his heart stop at Rehtir’s next words.

“I love you father.” There were only two times when Peter thought he would crack from perfect happiness. The first was when Rhea appeared at the door of his bedroom that night so many years ago…. And the second was hearing his son say that he loved him.

Reaching up with one hand, Peter grasped the back of Rehtir’s head and drew his head close so that he could plant a kiss amidst Rehtir’s white locks. The smell of pine and cedar no longer reminded Peter of rivalry or jealousy…. But a love he had never felt before.

“I love you too…. son….” Peter felt Rehtir chuckle lightly at this and when they drew apart, Rehtir was smirking with a teasing look in his eyes, strangely similar to Rhea’s when she was about to tease Peter.

“Maybe you should hold off using that term till you grow some grey hairs,” the boy snickered.

Peter grinned and ruffled Rehtir’s perfect hair, “You should get out there and help your uncle before the sun sets.” The young part-elph nodded and headed toward the door to do so, only to stop with his hand on the doorknob.

“Oh…. Mum is up at the top checking over the archers…. If you wanted to know.” And with that, Rehtir was gone in a flurry of white hair and green eyes.

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

“Rehtir said I would find you up here,” Peter remarked, announcing his presence to Rhea who stood overlooking where the Telmarines were lining up for the dual.

Rhea smiled as Peter came to stand beside her. She wore a pure white outfit similar to Rehtir’s but more feminine and lacking the jacket.

“With Rehtir emerging with a smile on his face like he had just discovered a new planet, I assumed something good happened.” The girl glanced at Peter to see a content smile on his face, “he said that you spoke highly of me….. why?”

“Because I wanted Rehtir to have a visual of the kind of man his father is, so in case you never returned…. Or did eventually, he wouldn’t be misled.” “But the man you painted a picture of is a much better man than I am,” Peter objected.

Rhea shook her head, “The man I painted is not the man you see when you look in the mirror, but the man people see when they look you in the eyes. Reflections are only a glimpse of what we see in ourselves…. But everyone else sees our true self for they look upon us without reflections. Besides, I do not think Rehtir was disappointed.

Peter smiled but his face fell when he saw the familiar blond girl garbed in dark brown and red standing with Edmund below.

“It must not run in the family,” he muttered.

Rhea followed Peter’s gaze and smiled when she saw who he was looking at.

“You have bonded well with Rehtir because he is like me…. And you have already mastered at winning me over years ago. Pheira is the perfect replica of yourself and you have never tried to win yourself over in that sense before. That is why it is easy for me and hard for you. You have to be patient with Pheira just as I was patient with you.” Peter turned to look back at Rhea when the girl came to stand in front of him, looking up into his eyes.

“I waited 15000 years to meet you…. And then another 1052 years for you to return. Pheira has waited her whole life to meet her father and I do not think she believed me when I said you two were dangerously similar. She was not prepared to find her father was incredibly like herself. Give her some time and space…. Though don’t give her several centuries…. She will begin to sulk. I learnt that the hard way.”

Peter chuckled softly before reaching down to take Pheira’s hands in his.

“what if we return home? Our visits here are not permanent. For all we know, the four of us could be sent back home in the midst of the dual!”

Rhea smiled and looked down at her boots, “I have thought of that…. But it is Aslan’s will if you do. I am sure that he would have his reasons but whatever they are, you are here now. So do not spend it thinking of the times you are not here.”

Peter smiled, rubbing her hands with his thumbs. The girl looked up at him only to find Peter smiling down at her with his whole heart in his eyes.

“Then I wont delay this.” The boy said.

Rhea furrowed her brow as Peter unfolded one hand to reveal that nestled in his gloved and armored hand lay a simple but beautiful golden band. Rhea immediately gasped and covered her mouth with her hands as Peter grasped the ring between his thumb and first finger.

“I failed to do this 1052 years ago and I am not going to make that same mistake,” he said gently before holding it poised at the tip of Rhea’s left ring finger. “Rheanna Iolanthe Seraphina Portedorfer, keeper of Magic, Apprentice to Aslan and the Emperor over the sea, Seraphim and protecting of nature, last of your kind and mother of Rehtir and Pheira Lionheart, will you do me the great honor of marrying me….. if I happen to come out of this proposal alive.” Rhea chuckled at the last part, wiping her eyes of their tears, “Don’t you mean the future danger of the dual?”

Peter shook his head, “nope. This proposal is the most dangerous thing I’ll ever do considering that our children are burning holes through our heads presently.” Rhea laughed before beaming, “Of course I will marry you silly,” she said, choking on her own tears.

A huge grin spread across Peter’s face as he slipped the ring onto Rhea’s finger. The boy then cupped her face in his hands and wiping her tears away with his fingers, brought his head down to passionately press his lips to hers. When they pulled away breathless and beaming, Rhea leant her head against Peter’s.

“I love you.” Peter smiled, “I love you more.”

Rhea smiled before looking down at the ring on her hand, “This looks familiar.” Peter nodded before tapping the hilt of his sword, “I got Ed to make a set.” Rhea saw that two of the golden rings around the red hilt of his sword were now gone.

The boy smirked at her surprised face, “It seemed fitting.” Reaching into his pant pocket, he drew out an identical ring but wider and more masculine. Rhea took it from him and slipped it onto Peter’s ring finger before bringing his hand to her lips and kissing his knuckles.

“Be safe,” she whispered. “I do not wish to remain your fiancé for another 1000 years!”

Peter chuckled before kissing her one more time, “I’ll keep that in mind.” As he turned to head down to where Edmund was waiting for him, Peter saw Pheira looking up at him and when he met her gaze, the girl nodded and gave him a slight smile of satisfaction. Peter smiled back before nodding and heading indoors…. progress!

[mayalaen]

mayaliveblogs: undercover movercum by caseofunderjoy

Title: Undercover Movercum Author: @caseofunderjoy​ Pairings: Dean/Castiel Word Count: 3022 Tags: Comeplay? Uhm, kinda? Semi-sentient semen. Link: AO3 Summary: Dean Winchester and the case of the disappearing jism.

SPNColdestHits Disclaimer: Seriously think about your life choices before clicking on the keep reading cut. You probably don’t want to read this, don’t want to click the link to the fic on AO3, and you should probably just move on for your mental well-being.

Castiel lets out a derisive huff and sits back. Dean compensates for the sudden lack of support by flopping over onto the unused side of the bed. “Since you made me make the wet spot, you get to lay in it.” 

Dean would totally take advantage of Cas' lack of human customs to get him to sleep in the wet spot. Bad Dean :D

“No, Cas, I orgasmed wet. I orgasmed very, very wet.” 

This sounds like a conversation I’ve had with partners in the past. Can’t place it at the moment but it sounds familiar.

Castiel smiles one of those small, subdued smiles that Dean loves so much because he’s pretty sure Cas couldn’t fake it if he tried. “So it appears.” He extricates himself from under Dean’s legs and crawls up to kiss him. 

FEEEEEELS! Domestic FEEEEELS!! You got feels into my pron and pron into my feels. How dare.

“Yup,” Dean agrees. It’s late, and they’re both tired, so they decide they’ll look into it in the morning. Dean tosses the used Kleenex into the wastebasket across the room. Neither of them are awake to see Dean’s come carefully extricate itself from its crumpled Kleenex prison and inch its way under the bed. 

I’d like to say that post-orgasm and strange shit like that happening I’d get out of bed and figure out what the fuck was going on, but it would be a lie. Post-orgasm I’m not going to do a fucking thing, including cuddling. None of that shit.

Dean’s considering how much he should tell him, but Cas saves him the trouble by diving right in. “Dean’s ejaculate has developed the ability to move autonomously.” 

SAM’S EXPRESSION WAS MOST LIKELY TOTALLY AWESOME!!

Actually, all the awkwardness might be worth it just to watch Sam struggle to process this information. Finally, he seems to give up on speech entirely and just grabs the book off the table. He heaves a box of artifacts he’d been working on cataloguing in his spare time out of the way and settles down to help. 

Yup, it was awesome :D

God, Dean wished Cas would stop using that word. Tomorrow he’s going to have to give him Colloquialisms for Semen 101. 

Had a few partners In the past who needed lessons on this. It was disturbing and a mood-killer. Not just ejaculate, but other... things. And names. For their bits. *shivers*

“Oh wow, clenching, why didn’t I think of that?” 

HEHEHEHEHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! Go, Sasstiel, go!!

Cas groans unhappily but seems to recognize the wisdom in the advice, visibly relaxing under Dean’s hands. Dean sees it, same as before, some kind of come-slug wriggling its way out of Cas’s asshole on a quest for freedom. 

I don’t think I’ve ever read the phrase come-slug before. Congrats! You should get some sort of award, ya know?

The door to the room swings open. “Shit!” Sam yells, immediately covering his eyes with one hand. 

I just squeaked! SQUEAKED!! This is awesome!!

“I knocked! Are you guys okay?” Hand still over his eyes, Sam gives two exaggerated sniffs. “Dean, it smells like the inside of a used tube sock in here.”

“What? No. We’re fine, it smells fine.”

“It really doesn’t.”

“I, for one, enjoy Dean’s musk,” Cas chimes in.

I was premature in awarding you congrats, because THIS INTERACTION WINS!!

And I think I need to stop grabbing so many quotes because I’m going to end up grabbing the whole thing, BUT THIS WHOLE THING IS AMAZING! I mean, seriously! Come-slugs escaping and on the loose in the bunker?!  *sighs happily*

Sam’s perched on a chair like a cartoon elephant who’s just seen a mouse. He points at the low table in the corner with the half-full snifter of whiskey on it. “It’s under there.” 

I WANT A MANIP OF THIS SCENE!! I’m at the shop and don’t have access to Photoshop, and that’s just sad!! SEMEN MONSTER!!!!!!

“Wow, that’s even grosser than semen,” Dean says.

“No,” Sam chimes in, “it’s not.”

Heheheheheeeeee! OH, POOR SAM!

While Cas’s information does give them a place to start, it doesn’t really lead them anywhere useful. They take a few simple cases around the area, but a most of their spare time over the next few weeks is spent trying to figure out a cure for Dean’s unique issue. True enough to what Cas had said, the little creature listens to Dean when he gives it a direct order. Dean restricts his orders more or less to “stay here and don’t touch anything” because having a tiny house slave doesn’t sit right with him, regardless of whether or not it’s actually alive per se, and regardless of the fact it’s made of his own trouser gravy. 

Is this poetry? I believe this is award-winning poetry. And NO, tell me you didn’t write the semen!monster ‘watching’ I Love Lucy and liking it!!

Dean points at the first one, “Kevin,” the second one, “Charlie --”

“Dean!”

“What?”

“You cannot name your jizz-goblins after our dead friends.”

I just snorted so hard Evan asked if I was okay!! And one of them is playing with a fidget spinner!!!

Cas takes the figurine from Dean, squinting at the inscription. “The Sumerian is ancient, but this inscription is not, and whoever wrote this was just as bad at translating it as you are.” 

BUUUUUURN

“It’s… possible that at one point Cas and I were in the library... and one thing led to another, and I may have… finished in the artifact box.”

This just gets better and better!! I’m giggling so hard! No fucking in the library doesn’t rule out jerking off in the library. Sam, Sam, Sam. Ya gotta cover all the bases.

“Five hundred piece Lisa Frank puzzle in the store room. Cas and I needed some private time.”

Okay, but I kinda wanna see this Photoshopped too. It would be so cute!! Jizz!creatures putting a puzzle together, all of them working together!!

Dean’s about to go get friendly with the cleaning supplies again when Cas stops him with a finger in his belt loop. “You know, in order to make sure this situation has truly resolved, it would be prudent for us to make sure your ejaculate is truly inert.”

“You know, you’re right. And who am I to argue with prudence?” Dean agrees, and allows himself to be led. It’s not like the come pile in the store room is going anywhere.

This is a very smart decision. *nod nod* Fucking is necessary to ensure the curse is completely broken and they probably need to do it a few times just to make sure.

Maya’s Rating: Super amused reader! Silliness and banter appreciated! 10/10. Would Photoshop. *tosses glitter in the air*

[siren-dragon]

The Heart of the Scourge -- (Ardyn Izunia) Fanfic

Here’s a little fic I wrote based on my Shadow of the Colossus idea for Ardyn. I’m sorry if it’s kinda…bad, as I had a really hard time writing this one since I enjoy both FFXV and SotC. Plus I have been super busy lately with school and work that I couldn’t really focus. Anyway, here you go everybody I hope you all enjoy it and remember, this is an AU. :)

I might continue this, depends on the feedback I get. Let me know what you guys think. ^_^

 TAGGING: @poisonous-panda, @valkyrieofardyn, @eternallydaydreaming2015, @maty-yami, @merroki

The great city of Insomnia remained shrouded in darkness, with its only illumination coming from the faint stars that glittered across the moonless evening sky. A soft tapping echoed down the deserted streets as a large beast trotted through back alleys, the creature’s obsidian plumage making it seem almost like a shadow. Atop the chocobo the rider exhaled heavy breaths, causing large plumes of fog to appear in the cold spring air.

Shifting the other passenger to ensure their secured position, the rider nudged the black chocobo forward and continued to their destination.

No one knew where it had come from.

For centuries, the sickness ravaged Eos; a simple illness that corrupted men and turned them into creatures of darkness. And while he tried his hardest to relieve the pain of his people, it was not enough. He sighed heavily after leaving the quarantined district, the distraught and painful cries of the infected still echoing within his ears. What has the world now come to…

“My lord? Are you alright?”

The magenta-haired king froze, spinning about in anger to see who had caught him in his moment of weakness. And there she stood; a young woman dressed in a simple gown made of quality material, showing her well-to-do lifestyle. Yet she had her hair pinned away from her face as sweat slid from her face and a speck of dirt was smudged upon her nose. Her very appearance seemed to be of a lower social standing, yet those eyes…they shinned with a fierceness that would cause even the bravest of men to tremble.

”Yes, thank you.” He replied politely, “forgive me, but I must be going.”

”It’s alright,” she spoke; causing him to freeze in his tracks. “to feel fear for your people.”

”And what makes you think I am afraid.”

The woman smiled sadly, “because I am scared too.”

He glanced back at her, those (e/c) eyes piercing his very being. “I am King…I can not afford to be afraid.”

”You are also human, your Majesty. And against the might of the Gods…we can only do the best that we can offer.” She answered back before turning to leave.

”…Might I enquire your name?” He asked.

She paused and smiled, “(f/n), your Majesty. Until we meet again, King Ardyn.

  The black chocobo came to a halt on the outskirts of the city, where the temple resided. Quickly the rider dismounted and eased their precious cargo off, cradling the cloaked figure within their arms before entering the sacred building. Heavy footfalls echoed across the stone walls, every sound disturbing the eerie silence that covered the empty place like a shroud.

At long last the path opened to reveal a large chamber, surrounded by statues of the kings of old; each one standing as eternal guardians within their stone prisons. Within the ceiling sat a circular skylight, barely illuminating the chamber with the light of the stars. Quietly and quickly, the rider approached the large alter at the far end of the chamber and placed the figure in their arms upon the table. In one fluid motion, the rider removed the cloak to reveal a body of a woman, her skin pale and grey as black veins spread like spider webs across her flesh.

Gently he trailed fingers across her cold skin, tears falling from golden eyes. “Please, bring her back…Bring her back….”

”You are rather different from the ladies of court.” Ardyn spoke, watching as she sewed new strips of gauze.

(f/n) chuckled. “I am not sure if I should take that as an insult or compliment.”

”I did not mean to offend you, my dear.”

”It is alright, your Majesty; I was only teasing.” She smiled cheekily.

He flushed a pale pink, turning to avoid her gaze. “I…see.”

”Though his Majesty is correct. It is rather difficult to conform to one’s social place when one has naught but themselves and an empty title.” (f/n) replied, placing the strip of gauze in her hand beside the others.

”Yet despite such troubles you come here.” Ardyn replied, gesturing to the entrance of the quarantine sector. “You come to help these people even though it is a thankless task.”

”I could say the same thing about you, your Majesty. You trudge through the muck of society despite all telling you no. These people are doomed to a cursed fate, yet you continue to aid them. Why is that?”

”Because it is the right thing to do.”

(f/n) grinned, “Then I suppose we are of sound mind.”

”I am glad,” Ardyn spoke, taking hold of her hand and causing (f/n) to blush. 

”You are too kind, your Majesty.”

”Ardyn.” He corrected kindly.

She blinked in surprise before a gentle smile spread across her lips. “Very well then…Ardyn.”

”My lord no! Y-You can’t go in there!” one of the attendants gasped, trying to stop him but hesitant to lay a hand upon his person.

“Where is she?!” He snarled, golden eyes flashing dangerously.

The other healers all fell silent, each refusing to answer their king as he sped past them. Quickly he entered the room and froze, staring in fear at the sight before him as the blood drained from his face. There she lay, his sweet (f/n), unconscious upon a bed; the tell-tale signs of the Scourge evident across her skin. Her breathing was slow and barely visible, with the small movement of her chest being the only sign of life.

Ardyn fell to his knees at the sight of his dear love, hands clenched in anger at his sides. Gilgamesh, ever the faithful Shield, placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder. The warrior remained silent as his king sobbed; screams of rage and sorrow echoing throughout the building.

Who dares to summon me?

A deep voice that seemed to reverberate through his entire being shook the young king to his core. Torches along the walls flared to life, burning brightly and casting menacing shadows across the walls of the chamber. He stood tall before the alter, a look of determination lingering in the depths of his amber eyes. “I am Ardyn Lucis Caelum, King of Lucis, and I have come to seek your power.”

Thou ist foolish to plead for such demands, mortal king.

“It is not for myself, but another…” He whispered, glancing to the woman upon the alter. “She was cursed by the Scourge that ravages this world. And I could do nothing to save her….I beg you, please heal her.”

A loud rumble shook the temple as torches flared to life, making Ardyn’s eyes widen in shook. The Astral…was laughing at him. That maiden’s soul has been claimed by the Scourge, and resides upon this realm no longer. Souls cannot be reclaimed once lost, for that is the law of mortals. However….thy request may not be impossible….

“Truly?! She can be saved?” Ardyn gasped in disbelief.

O King of the Stone; I shall bestow upon thee my power, for thou must complete a single task. Journey to the far reaches of thy kingdom and bring deliverance upon thy people, cursed by the Scourge. Return here and thy maiden’s soul will be restored.

He frowned, pondering the deity’s words. “Very well, I accept.”

Know this, thou must accept this task of thy own will. And the price thou pay will be heavy.

“I am King, it is my duty to protect my people. And for her…I would do anything.”

Very well. Go forth, mortal king, and complete thy task; and purge our star of it’s scourge.

In an instant the torches all extinguished, plunging the chamber into darkness once more. Ardyn glanced at the body of his love before spinning on his heel and leaving the temple. He will defeat the Scourge, he must….

They praised his name.

They called him a Savior, blessed by the Gods to save the people from the darkness. All who came before the kind king was healed of their afflictions, as if by magic. Yet despite the cheering crowds or words of gratitude, Ardyn grew tired; weary of his travels and what felt like a never-ending battle against the plague that corrupted his home. Often, he wondered how long he was to continue this task, the mantle of Healer weighing heavily with each person cured.

Until one day…it was over.

“King Ardyn, you are hereby arrested for treason by order of Prince Izunia. Seize him!”

He was dragged back within the city that was once his home, the faces that once greeted him with kindness now sneered in disgust at the sight of him. His armed escort brought him before the temple, pulling him down into the depths of the ancient building and into it’s large audience chamber. The stone statues that stood as guardians now appeared more like righteous judges, ready to smite the wicked. Before the alter stood his dear younger brother, who stared down at the body of his love that rested upon the stone table.

“So, this is what the ‘Chosen King’ has kept hidden from the world. To be taken so young…” He spoke insincerely before turning to face Ardyn.

“You have endangered our people brother, keeping this corpse here.”

“You have no right to do this, Izunia!” Ardyn snarled angrily.

Izunia smirked, summoning his sword as he approached the elder Lucis Caelum. “That is where you’re wrong brother. The Crystal choose me.”

In one fell swoop Izunia sliced off Ardyn’s hand, removing the Ring of the Lucii from the detached limb as Ardyn screamed in agony. “And so, ends the reign of….by the gods…”

Izunia and the rest of his Crownsguard stared in horror as Ardyn’s hand regenerated to it’s original state, leaving nary a mark upon his flesh. The redheaded king looked up, black veins traveling across grey skin as black sludge spilled from his eyes like obsidian tears before vanishing. The ebony-haired prince snarled, sword raised in defense at the being that was once his brother. “Seize that daemon!”

Ardyn fought against those who restrained him, reaching desperately toward the alter; to the woman he loved before being dragged away…

And as he was knelt before the headsman’s block as the masses jeered, he looked toward the heavens with rage filling his blood and cursed the gods. He saw the shadow of an axe raised above his neck and closed his eyes, “I am sorry (f/n).”

The shadow then descended upon him and he knew no more.

The temple remained silent, now abandoned after King Izunia took the throne. None dared to venture there, saying it was now cursed.

A cold wind blew through the empty chamber, ruffling the dress of the body that lay upon the alter before the air fell still once more. Slowly the young woman’s eyes opened before she rose off the alter, life breathed into her body once more. A soft kwee! caught her attention, causing the young woman to face the black chocobo that limped toward her; nuzzling her face with it’s massive head.

Gently guiding the large fowl, the two exited the temple; looking for the one who had saved them.

[themyskira]

Some disordered (spoilery) thoughts on the movie

Some things that I liked

Kid Diana racing through the streets, lighting up with excitement as she watches the warriors train. The not-at-all-innocent “hello, Mother” when Hippolyta catches her out (literally).

An active, bustling Amazon society. Amazons going about their days. Amazons sparring together, Amazons taking pleasure in one another’s company.

Diana’s compassion. Her instant willingness to risk her own life in the face of others’ suffering. 

“I am willing to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. Like you once did.” “You know that if you choose to leave us, you can never return.” “Who will I be if I stay?”

Hippolyta’s love and grief and pride. The parting gift of Antiope’s headband -- the iconic tiara.

Diana’s palpable delight in the little things -- The sight of a baby. Snow. Dancing. Celebrating townsfolk. The taste of ice cream.

(The ice cream moment, by the way -- so, so, so much better than the comic book scene it’s derived from, which was actually awful.)

Her refusal to walk past injustices or to sacrifice individuals for the greater good. Steve, the military intelligence man, forces himself to ignore the suffering civilians and focus on the mission, which will ultimately prevent greater suffering. Diana can’t accept that, won’t accept that. No other relief is coming for these people. She steps out into No Man’s Land.

Facing Ares at the last with that simple, powerful conviction: for all the darkness in human hearts, there is also the capacity for great love, and she’ll fight for that every day if she has to.

The use of the BvS quote in the trailer is thoroughly misleading: this isn’t the story of why Diana walked away from mankind. It’s the story of why she continues to fight for humanity, believing in people’s ability to rise above their darker impulses.

Some things that I did not like

DIANA IS A RASH, NAIVE IDIOT.

And yes, this is a young Diana, an untested Diana on her first journey into Man’s World. I realise that. I expect her to screw up, to misjudge things and have her preconceptions challenge. I expect there to be a learning curve.

Even allowing for that, the Diana in this movie is a complete dickhead.

She’s an adult who still believes in fairy tales. She thinks that humans are completely good and pure, and only the corruption of outside forces causes them to do bad things.

Over the course of the movie, she is continually confronted with situations that challenge this view. She meets good people who have done bad things -- people who don’t always have the luxury of standing up for principles, and people who’ve made terrible choices for right reasons. She witnesses and learns of corruption, discrimination and dispossession. Again and again and again.

And she learns nothing from any of this.

Because when she thinks she’s killed Ares (and oh, I’ll get to that bit of stupid), she is shocked -- shocked -- that people don’t immediately lay down their weapons.

And when Steve floats the possibility that maybe, maybe war is just a little more complicated that “the devil made them do it”, she can't fucking deal with it and decides “FUCK Y’ALL, YOU DON’T DESERVE MY HELP. NEVER MIND THE INNOCENT BYSTANDERS I WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT BEFORE, THEY CAN ALL FUCKING BURN. IF HUMANS AREN’T PERFECT CREATURES OF VIRTUE THEN THEY DON’T DESERVE TO LIVE.”

but no I don’t think I’ve adequately explained what an absolute boneheaded twit this woman is.

Her naivety goes beyond the usual fish-out-of-water hijinks. She has no awareness of the people around her. She cannot make intuitive leaps. She doesn’t take on board what she’s told. She has no interest in planning or considering the consequences of her actions, which means that Steve’s constantly trailing one step behind her lecturing her about how she can’t do whatever it is she's about to do.

“OH NO I DON’T NEED A PLAN I’LL JUST RUN INTO THE PARTY AND MURDER A DUDE AND THEN THE WAR WILL MAGICALLY END I SEE NO REASON TO TALK ABOUT THIS FURTHER THERE IS NOTHING THAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG IN THIS EQUATION”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE NEED TO THINK THIS THROUGH. WHY WOULD WE SECURE THE POISON MURDERGAS AND PREVENT IT FROM BEING DEPLOYED AGAINST ANYBODY WHEN WE COULD KILL A GUY ON A HUNCH I HAD INSTEAD. GOD STEVEN IT’S LIKE YOU’RE TRYING TO STOP ME FROM ENDING THE WAR”

She comes to the conclusion that General Ludendusseldorfendorf is Ares in disguise based solely on the fact that he is he one spearheading the German murdergas project, and obviously humans are not capable of doing evil things on their own, and it’s not like there are hundreds of other people involved in the production of these weapons or at least there are but she doesn’t know any of their names so she can probably pre-emptively rule them out and just go murder Ludenhoodendooden.

Sure, it helps that Ludenhorfledorf is an absurd cartoon villain of the sort who is prone to cackling maniacally and shooting his own men at random. Who, when Diana finally comes face-to-face with him, spends most of the conversation talking about the massive hard-on he has for war and slaughter and Ares specifically. But you kinda want to be sure before you jump to the dramatic speechifying and righteous murdering.

Gary Oldman Ares is awful. Everything about the gods is awful. Ares murdering all the gods. Zeus as a loving, self-sacrificing, pseudo-Christian god. Zeus replacing the role of the goddesses in the Amazons’ story. Ares describing himself as the god of truth URGH. The utter bullshit of Ares’ “boooooo humans are assholes, I want them all to die so much so that the world can be decent again” urgh fuck off mate you are such a disappointing villain.

And could anybody else figure out the logic in his ranting? because fuck knows it’s still eluding me. “oooooohhh I have so much faith in humans’ ability to fuck themselves and everybody else over that I’m actually helping to negotiate Armistice! I’m literally doing everything I can to stop the war because I know that in the end it will have no effect and humans will bomb each other into oblivion! and I won’t have had anything to do with their destruction! Sure, I very deliberately put the tools for mass slaughter in the hands of the select few people in this war who had both the desire and the power to use them, thus giving them the ability to overpower the majority who had turned their efforts to peace, and to escalate the conflict against the wishes of their leaders! But really it’s humanity as a whole that is the asshole here!”

Dr Poison is more plot device than character. She has no backstory, no arc and no personality. She’s a generic evil minion whose only pleasure in life comes from devising new ways to murder people with chemicals. She is wasted.

If Etta Candy were a rose by any other name, I might have liked her. I like Lucy Davis as an actress, and though I found the character a bit... overly quirky-loveable-British-comic-relief-girl... it was nice for Diana to have a potential female friend in what was (outside of Themyscira) a very male-dominated cast, and it would have been nice for them to interact more.

My sticking point with the character is that she was supposed to be Etta Candy. Who will always be, in my head, a fierce, fabulous, fearless, ass-kicking Texan lady. Quirky British “we use our principles, although I am not averse to engaging in fisticuffs should the occasion arise” haha jolly good... ain’t gonna cut it for me. Though I acknowledge that this is getting into nitpicking.

Steve annoyed the shit out of me. He is both the brains and the heart of the movie. He is the one who ultimately teaches Diana to love humanity, to fight for them, to be a hero. Diana wants to help end the war, but Steve’s words are what spur her to defy her mother’s forbiddance. She throws herself into the fight against Ares, but Steve’s sacrifice and the love and dedication behind it are what empower her to defeat him. She wants to help from the start, but it’s Steve who teaches her not to fight for people because they “deserve” it, but because it’s the right thing to do. It’s Steve who teaches Diana true compassion.

Throughout the film, Steve is the one trailing after Diana trying in vain to make her see reason. He’s the one making the plans to actually stop Ludendude from committing chemical genocide while Diana is crashing from scene to scene all “OKAY I WILL GO END THE WAR NOW. WHICH WAY IS THE WAR AGAIN?”

Steve is smarter, more understanding, more competent and more compassionate than Diana.

Also, after Diana sees Steve naked he spends the next two or three scenes anxiously assuring her that his dick is, in fact, larger than average.

(Diana knows about sex because she’s read all the books, urgh)

The sword is a misdirect: the weapon Zeus left the Amazons to counter Ares is Diana herself. Kind of cool as a general concept, except that this effectively replaces Diana’s “brought into being by a mother’s love” origin with one in which she is a weapon bequeathed by the Supreme Patriarch. Also, the foreshadowing of this was the exact opposite of subtle, taking some of the power out of the eventual revelation.

This origin also means that Diana is the only child on Themyscira, which adds to this whole... woman-child thing about her that I really don’t like. Because the movie requires her to go from “why are those people holding hands? because they’re together? well, you and I are together, why shouldn’t we hold hands? what do you mean it’s not the same? of course I know about sex I have read lots of books about human biology” to fucking (and, the implication is, losing her virginity to) Steve and... euuugh.

also 140 minutes is a fucking slog, man.

idk there is probably more to say but I feel like I’ve stopped being coherent.

[fresh-princess-is-here]

Myth Creatures FT

For @chikach00 - an awesome friend ~ I hope you enjoy it!

Creatures: Angels

Pairing: Nalu

Rating: T+

Words: 2419

Natsu’s heart pounded, the shouts behind him becoming louder and closer. He sprinted towards the fence, ignoring the burning pain in his side and the blood rushing from the wound, soaking his shirt.

Another gunshot ricocheted through the alleyway and Natsu jolted forward, almost falling down as it lodged itself in his back. Agony ripped through his senses, the urge to vomit rising up at the excruciating feeling of being shot.

He hit the fence and threaded his fingers through the silver links, trying to climb but his body was finished. His stamina depleted, and any adrenaline that had been helping him ignore his wounds was now gone entirely.

“Get him!”

Natsu pushed his head down and brought a hand up to his neck, stuffing it underneath his scarf to grip at his cross as the footsteps slowed, still approaching him. He ran his thumb over the heavy silver, closing his eyes tightly, body sagging at the attempt to keep his posture.

“Help me.” He whispered, gritting his teeth as his nerves jolted in pain, and he slumped to knees, unable to keep himself on his feet. He pressed his head to the chain fence, tightening his grip on the cross as blood streamed down from the wound on his back.

“Take him out, and get the necklace.” The words were foggy as Natsu fought to keep his eyes open, choking out as blood began to fill his mouth.

“Help me, please.”

Loneliness sunk in, as the horrifying thought of dying alone, on this wet ground, filled him. That he wouldn’t get the chance to see Wendy, or Erza again. That he had lost in this game he was so good at.

In that split realisation, he smiled bitterly, knowing where he had gone wrong.

They shouldn’t have had guns. Looks like my Intel was wrong.

A gun was pressed to the back of his head and he slowly let go of his cross, trying to get any part of his body to move, to fight back. His hand twitched, but it wasn’t enough.

He was going to die.

“Lucy.”

The minute he said that word, a smile on his lips as he remembered her silky blonde hair, big coffee warm eyes, always with a patient smile on her glossy pink lips. That loneliness vanished in an instant, filling his body with warmth, and light, and her.

He slipped into unconsciousness just as the gun was pulled away and the sound of a neck being broken filtered through his ears.

She came.

Natsu woke up to a wet cloth being dragged over his back, a stinging sensation jolting him.

“Don’t move. I still need to get the bullet out of you before it gives you permanent damage.”

He breathed out when her soft, calm voice spoke. It was alike to music, smooth and well-rounded, something you could fall asleep too. But he hadn’t heard her speak in so long, that it just made his blood simmer in anticipation.

Natsu remained still as her small fingers lightly prodded the hole, before the door opened. Wendy appeared in front of him, her eyes red with tears and she sniffled, wiping at her nose when he blinked at her.

“Wendy…” Natsu wanted to reach out and take her hand but a cautionary hand to his lower back stopped him.

“W-We thought you died. W-When Miss Lucy brought you back… there was so much blood.”

“Gajeel must have forgotten the part about the guns. It’s fine now though, Lucy is going to fix it.” Natsu promised, before flinching when a finger slipped into the wound, grinding his teeth together to keep his shouts of pain in. Wendy also flinched upon seeing his sudden pain but the hand didn’t pull back, just ventured in further.

Wendy wouldn’t have been able to push herself to this, but Erza might have.

Lucy definitely could.

“Erza is out, getting food. Miss Lucy gave her a list.”

“She did?” Natsu could barely get it out, pain making his head swirl, and his stomach tight with sickness.

“Young one. Get me the bowl.” Lucy cut off Wendy’s reply, and Natsu opened his mouth to grunt at her but Wendy just scooted to the side, collecting a porcelain bowl from the side table.

The finger caught the edge of something foreign inside of him and Natsu closed his eyes tightly, struggling not to scream when she slowly began to push it up, her thumb digging in slightly to get a better grip.

Lucy pulled the bullet out, and the soft clang it made with she put it in the bowl made Natsu flinch.

“Her name… is Wendy.”

“Natsu, it’s fine.” Wendy placated him, moving away to put the bowl in the sink as Lucy began to wipe his back with the cloth again. The cold made his body twitch in pain, his back tensing which only reminded him of the hole in his back.

“The bullet just missed the spine.” Lucy murmured, “You are very lucky.”

“Well, I do have a guardian angel,” Natsu replied breathlessly and grinned when he heard her slight laugh. She pulled the cloth away and suddenly the pain slowly began to alleviate until there was nothing left. Not even a tingle of the agony he had felt before.

“That’s amazing… There isn’t even a scar.” Wendy gasped, and Natsu remembered that Wendy had never seen Lucy heal before. Hell, he had only seen it once or twice.

“There will be a scar later if you overexert yourself. You can sit up now.”

Natsu did, turning to lightly catch Wendy on the arm, squeezing softly, “Give us a second alone?”

Wendy glanced at the angel behind him, who was probably blank, and beautiful. Like she always had been before nodding and left the room without another word. A cotton shirt filled his vision and he took it from her, pulling it on before slowly standing up so he could fully look at her.

Lucy stood there, her hair pulled back into a glossy ponytail, her skin milky and glowing. She wore nothing but a white dress, just coming up to her ankles and she was - as always -shoe-less.

Her warm eyes were carefully blank, her lips settling into a soft line as she looked him over.

They stared at each other for a long second, before she whispered, “I broke the rules… You should have died last night.”

Natsu flinched, knowing how strict the rules put-upon her were, and wondering how severe the punishment would be.

“Why didn’t you let me die?”

“You… You said my name.” She looked away, eyebrows furrowing as if she couldn’t understand why she had either for only that reason, “I was watching you die, getting ready to greet you and then, you said my name and I didn’t have a choice.”

“What is going to happen now?”

“The Elders are waiting for me, they will judge my actions how they see fit.” She stated blankly, eyes turning back to him, not an inch of fear on her face even though that statement made Natsu very nervous.

“Will they kill you?”

“Perhaps. It is not easy to kill an angel, though.” She murmured thoughtfully and not for the first time, Natsu wondered what was going through her head. What Lucy thought about, was always going to be a mystery to Natsu, no matter how many times they spoke.

“They can’t kill you for saving me. You are my guardian angel! You are supposed to protect me.” Natsu growled as Lucy blinked, before shaking her head.

“Previously, yes. That is my job. But once your clock runs out, I am to greet you into heaven and move on.”

The idea of Lucy moving onto anyone else made Natsu sick, and he felt anger wash over him.

“Take me to these Elders. I’ll talk to them.”

Lucy laughed softly, “Natsu, that is not possible. Firstly, they are archangels. If a human looks upon them, you will die because your brain cannot understand their appearance. Secondly, they are not interested in a human's opinion. All that will matter is I broke the rules, and I need to be punished.”

“Don’t go back.” Natsu took a step towards her, noticing the way she flinched but he pushed on, “Stay here. With me.”

When she didn’t respond, just continued to look at him, he took another step towards her. The blank, almost lifeless look in her eyes gave way to nervousness, one of the only human emotions that Natsu had ever been able to see on her.

He began to slowly walk towards her and she took a step back, unknowingly backing herself backwards to the wall.

“What are you doing?”

“Stay. I’ll protect you.”

“It is not possible. I can’t-” She began but stopped when he took a large step and they were closer than they had ever been. Natsu’s heart pounded in his chest as Lucy looked up at him with those large, coffee eyes.

“Stop. Do not come any closer.”

“Promise me you will stay.”

“I will not. Stop this foolishness.” She turned to the side and attempted to stride past him towards the sink when he reached out and grabbed her elbow. A shock of power rippled up his spine and he almost let go, but he endured in, allowing the electricity to prickle at his skin.

She pulled on her arm harshly and he barely kept his grip, staring down at her closely.

“Let go!”

“No. I won’t.” Natsu breathed and Lucy faltered, and she pulled again, this time decidedly softer.

“Let go.”

“No. Stay here.”

She closed her eyes, “Why are you doing this? Why do you make me feel this way?”

Natsu remembered one time Lucy saying that Angels did not need human emotions to function, therefore they did not have them.

So, the fact of Natsu making Lucy feel anything was staggering.

“Because I need you to know, I won’t let you die for me. I won’t let you die, period.”

Lucy shook her head, “You don’t have a say in it. I have to go. They are calling me.”

“Ignore them.”

“I can’t.”

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, slowly bringing one of her hands to cup his face. Natsu’s heart stuttered in his chest, and she smiled. Stars filled Natsu’s vision and his grip on her fell, his body hitting the floor at the pure beauty of that simple smile.

He watched, paralysed, as she crouched down and pushed the strands from his face, the smile gone, replaced with a look of pure sorrow.

“I am sorry Natsu. I enjoyed the sparse time I spent with you, and I don’t regret saving you.”

Natsu opened his mouth to curse her, to beg for her to stay but nothing worked. He was stuck in this position, overwhelmed by her powers. Lucy had never used her angelic powers on him before and had once said it was similar to ripping away a person's right to fight.

And he felt like she had done just that.

“You will be fine. The effect should wear off in a few hours.” Was all she said before she stood, and then disappeared.

Natsu sat at the bar, nursing three fingers of scotch, his mood the darkest he had ever felt. The local bar, Fairy Tail, had been happy with his recovery after Erza had informed them he had an injury on the job.

Few knew that his ‘luck’ was the work of a guardian angel, attached to him by birth.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. When he was a kid, climbing trees and broke his leg, she appeared to heal him.

When he was in college and he got hit by that car, after a night of drunken wandering, she patched him up and scolded him for being so reckless.

Countless times, she had saved him. And now, he wouldn’t see her again, and when he offered to save her, she had denied.

Erza appeared opposite him, frowning slightly, “If you continue to think of it, it will haunt you.”

“My mistakes, caused her to lose her life.”

“You don’t know that. They could have decided on a lesser punishment.” Erza spoke softly, hesitantly because neither of them knew much about Lucy and the way heaven or whatever worked.

Lucy had always been tight-lipped, never giving much away.

“Erza, I appreciate you trying to cheer me up, but…” Natsu finished his glass and pushed it away, standing up slowly, with a bitter smile, “It’s not working.”

She nodded and Natsu turned away, heading towards the exit of the bar. He offered a half-hearted wave to some of his friends before pushing the door, heading out into the cold night.

Once he reached his place, he dug through his pocket for his keys before stopping when he saw the figure sitting on his steps.

They were dimly lit by the light by his door, and his heart began to speed up at the silky blonde hair falling around small shoulders, a small smile playing on her features as she watched him.

He took a few steps forward, and she stood, carrying nothing but the clothes on her back.

“They judged me.” She spoke softly, “One hundred years in service. They thought if I had such a love for humanity, I should try being one.”

Hope blossomed in Natsu’s chest, and he fought the urge to run to her.

“You decided to stay with me?”

“If it’s still an available option, yes.”

Natsu nodded and she moved towards him slowly, stopping when they were just a hair-breath apart, bringing her hands up slowly to cup his face. Natsu closed his eyes for a second, almost afraid she was an illusion and her touch would disappear.

“I’ll stay with you. But now it’s your turn to protect me.” She whispered, leaning up to softly press her lips to his. Natsu returned the kiss gently, his heart pounding in his chest at the way she felt underneath him. His hands twitched to grab at her, but he resisted instead murmuring when she pulled away.

“I can do that.”

x 

[unorthodork]

I don’t really like saying anything uber mega personal here, because I’m sorta just here to reblog relative stuff, and maybe write a little? However, I feel I need to get some stuff off my chest. Depression is perhaps the most devastating mental war there is. It is at moderate difficulty to enter such a war zone, although ridiculously easy to remain. You have no choice to vacate and return to your family, only to man the guns and arm yourself to endure this one soldier battle. The rivalry between joy and depression plays tug of war with your mental stability, a lone troop desperate to escape. Joy enrolls and deports you to the battlefield with little to no notice, a lingering presence of an infinite vast No Man’s Land. Tarnished terrain with jagged sharp branches that disperse from ash brown bark makes the land look like a filter. Not a single barricade in place, you trek onward with the assumption this first passage will be simple to cross. A few miles in, unsuspecting of such a disturbance, you fall into a trench. Luckily it isn’t very deep, minor as if it were unfinished. You dig your fingers into the Earth, flinching as you feel a rock attempt to slip beneath your nail. You check your flesh, unscathed as it has always been, many would compliment and envy your complexion and condition. Upon settling both feet onto the terrain, you step on a shard of glass that barely pricks the heel of your sneakers. “I may need a change of footwear more suitable,” you conclude, pulling out a pair of pristine combat boots. Your eyes dart between your current favorite pair of rainbow sneakers, and the midnight black combat boots. Reluctantly, you change pairs and stuff the favored item into your rucksack. Wiggling your toes and looking down, you realize you much preferred the saturated and colorful option over the grim, achromatic resort. The petal falls free from the rose, the first chip off the old block that is your happiness. The glass caught between the soles go unnoticed by your newly recruited self, properly suited for the rubble now. As your mind begins to wander and ramble, distracted you trip over a small sack barricade. A hand swats away dust and pebble nestled into the fabric of ocean blue denim jeans, yet again a favorite article of clothing. A light sigh slips between parted, plush lips as a set of leg pads jerk free from a small compartment. Strapped tight around plump thighs and durable knees, the color is a dim grey that instantly makes you miss the vibrancy of your trousers. Weeks fly by as quickly as the crows overhead, days of the week less monitored than prior. Was it Monday, or Wednesday? Perhaps it was a Friday or Sunday? The silver watch fastened around an overused wrist broke long ago, and so you lost your track of time. Barricades, debris, rivers and trenches have came your way and ultimately resulted in an entire change of your wardrobe. “I won’t be leaving this place with all intact.” Thought to be alone, the pistol within its holster is gripped firmly upon a shadowy figure approaching. “Hey friend, I’ll help you find your way about. It’s awfully lonely here, isn’t it?” spoke a scrawny civilian, decked in gear alike yourself which indicated they may have been a solider rather than common folk. You nod and accept the invitation of their company, friendship is a good thing after all; they appear wholly capable of surviving these harsh conditions, the battle will be easier together. What is it you’re looking for, pal?” “Um, it’s the guy who created all of this..destruction. The bodies,” You gesture your thumb towards one of the many surrounding piles of lifeless corpses, sided by various weapons. Their eyes widened in fear, taking a hasty few steps back before exclaiming in a shaky manner “Oh no, not it.” “You’re seeking it,” “Yes, I am? Who exactly are we talking about here?” They shook their head, retrieving a dull blade beside a body they for some reason took interest in. Aged blood the shade of rust was smeared by saliva coating a slim thumb, much to your surprise. “Not a who, a what. Maybe a who depending on how far gone you are.” You tilt your head in confusion. “It is a gastly demon you see, one I advise to steer clear of.” In a battle stance, you shake your head triumphantly, “I will act accordingly when I see it, then.” The following crackle of vocal cords startle you, this man hasn’t been so loud, every word spoken pillow soft. Anxiety racks your nerves and thought process, heart beat increasing. “You can’t see it, useless kid. Do you lack sense? It’s invisible or otherwise similar to dense smoke, kind too. It has to be to ensure the thoughts can get in, now let’s travel onwards.” You hadn’t thought much of the insult, as it’s been heard so many times you assume it’s likely correct, that you lack sense. Useless was a new one, however speaking up may not be quite beneficial, so you follow his lead now. A sickly crooked smile highlights already wrinkled features, skin crinkled even more so thanks to his expression as you begin to feel inferior in comparison to this solider. He knows more about this creature, after all. Months have sailed along in resemblance to the battleships that once littered the now surrounding body of water. During this journey you were fortunate enough to meet another survivor, and learn more about Sixten, the other occupant of your party. Anorexic and skeletal in result of such, he forcefully kept true to making his body reject all meals. You found this out the one night he’d stripped himself of his sweater and faced the dead trees, the only sound other than the roaring, luminescent fire being gagging and violent hacks. Sixten Davis, Luci Furr, and yourself. You and Luci have grown quite close, a relationship that blossomed gradually although now somewhat sketchy. Being with her, you've learned it's much to blame yourself over the latter; Hearing seemingly endless complaints and witnessing shed tears pool at the underside of her pointed chin. The loyalty established is as well questionable, as many a nights may you find hear her lilted giggling and Sixten's voice mingling in the distance. "We've met the end of land, sea is only ahead," You exclaim with a hint of sadness, the life and essence you once contained now in bottled amounts. "Make yourself useful then, and begin to craft a raft," Luci giggled at the intentional rhyme in his demand. "Perhaps you can help?" You inquire sharply, eyes narrowed and brows knitted together in irritation. Luci was quick to defend Sixten's honor, unlike yourself. "He's on watch for any more demons, don't be rude to him. We don't have to help you, you're luck to have us." Relax, the therapist once said it helps to breathe deeply. "This is why I must insult them, I don't get why they can't just learn." Your eye twitches, ire boiling in the pit of your stomach. Inhale. "It's their fault anyways, dragging us along on this trip," "Ungrateful as always." Exhale. "You both treat me like absolute trash! How is it my fault, when Luci is the one who ate all the rations? When you're the one who screwed the calculations and sent us on a run around in the forest?!" You soon regret this outburst, silence numbing your skin as it tingles and the palms of your hands grow clammy. A year has driven by now, and you've forgotten the type of car you'd once desired, otherwise you would compare the statements. Luci robbed you of your supplies and self esteem, whilst Sixten had vicked you of your prized physical attribute. A once clear complexion was now littered with scars from a sharpened blade, the same dull knife Sixten pocketed and spent time repairing afterwards. To spite you, he'd carved many insults into the flesh of your stomach and chest to remind you of who you are. Tired limbs swam through filthy waters to the next slice of land, fragile bones creaked and moaned like old wood from the constant maneuver of land not one bit level with the rest. Here you stand now, before the ghoul you've long searched for. It depressed you how many trials you'd suffered just to see it was exactly as Sixten described it, smoke. "Hello, it." "Please, call me friend." It's voice echoed and repeated as if someone played multiple audio clips at the same time from different tabs. It's tone was inviting, warmth enveloping you as it approached a single step closer. You shook my head hastily in rejection, fearing now what friendship's purpose was, and what it truly meant. It's hand was firm and constricting on your shoulder however, despite the vain attempt at warding it away. Physical contact has grown void in your life, it's hold served pleasant and home-like. "I cannot hurt you, my dear. Please, invite me in." It's request made little sense, nonetheless you accepted it. Everything sounded fuzzy and unclear with it's grasp growing uncomfortable now, the pain felt relieving though, you make no attempt to pull back. Slowly nodding, it smiles, "Good, very good." You realize it didn't smile, rather you visioned it. Charming little nothings were whispered softly and rotated about in your membrane, and the cold pressure of a pistol to your temple failed to wake you. "You've endured so much pain, why not join me, and lessen the amount of hurt you experience? You don't have to feel it any more." Hot tears streamed down cool blemmished cheeks, calloused fingers pressing tighter into the weapon. "Pull the trigger." For a mere moment you debated tugging it back, before your eyes widened upon seeing yourself stand upright before you. The curve of plush lips complemented untouched skin. A rainbow tie die t-shirt to match your rainbow sneakers, Converse brand just like you liked them. Ocean blue denim jeans. "The sooner you do, the quicker the pain will vanish." Beside that image was the current you, mirrored in horrific fashion. This wasn't the you everyone would recognize and remember, certainly not the one you'd wanted to be. Dusty combat boots that faded away from their once true color of midnight black, split from the now flat soles. Loosely hanging padding on your legs, arms, and chest. Greasy locks strewn about a grimey forehead, dandruff flakes caked onto your scalp. Ocean blue denims now faded to an ash color, a tiedie shirt near black and white. A trembling hand pulls up the shirt to reveal carved flesh, reading adjectives like "Stupid," "Useless," and "Weak." A violent scream echoes, and a bang follows. The trigger was pulled.

[temptation-narnia-chronicles]

From Upon the Golden Thrones

Episode 23: Return to Cair Paravel

Susan wasn’t sure whether it was the foggy morning air or the melancholy of leaving a new friend that made everything seem different. The crew of the Splendor Hyaline carted their luggage aboard the ship aching to return home. Duke Rochester and his children followed the Pevensies to the docks for a formal goodbye, though Rochester was less than pleased that his new allies were leaving so soon. He had grown so fond of the monarchs during their time there, so inspired by the prospect of their nations’ budding friendship.

Peter bid the duke a fond farewell, then turned to the others. Francis was a man of few words and even fewer affections, a character Peter still did not know well and still did not put much trust in. As he knew it, the man spent much of his time on the training grounds obliterating burlap dummies and bales of hay. A raw, violent creature one would be stupid to cross. He simply nodded to the monarchs with a trademark stony face. Ginevra, however, was a different story.

               Her dress was simple and sweet rather than gaudy, her makeup sparse, and her hair was braided neatly down her back and adorned with pink roses and baby’s breath. She and Peter exchanged a brief smile before she grasped his hands lightly in hers and bowed her head. “It was an honor and a pleasure, your majesty” she stated softly. Everything about her was far too soft. It was as if she had been replaced by someone completely different overnight. Susan eyed her older brother, wondering what on earth had become of this girl.  

               “The feeling is mutual” Peter replied, kissing her hand formally. “I hope we can keep in contact with one another.” This was where Susan, along with the others, grew really puzzled. The magnificent glanced to his sister, adding, “Considering you and Susan seemed to have grown so close.” It was true-- though she was at times insufferable, Susan had found a true friend in Ginevra. To think, she had finally found someone of her age, sophistication, and taste—not to mention marital status. They had already agreed to keep in correspondence over the next few months until they could see one another again. Truly, they had formed a steadfast bond one cannot so easily shake.

               Ginevra bowed her head, her cheeks tinting pink. “I would like that very much” she replied. She stared up at Peter with those steely blue eyes, exuding hope and promise and joy. Ingenuity. A small smile tugged at Susan’s lips. It looked good on her, that ingenuity. Even if she didn’t get what she set out for-- Peter’s heart-- Susan knew her new friend certainly received something far better: growth. She couldn’t have been happier seeing how such a change affected her, of how much more peaceful and pleasant she seemed. And what’s more, Ginevra was not the only one Susan saw a change in.

               As they boarded the ship and set sail, Peter smiled back at the little island. His experience there was nothing short of a nightmare but at the same time, he felt different now. He had made a new friend, helped someone become a better person, and created a fine ally in the process.

               “Peter?” a small voice then asked, shaking the High King from his thoughts. He turned to find Lucy looking up at him curiously. “What are you doing?”

               “Just taking in the view” he replied. “Why?”

               “Just wondering” she replied. Peter gazed at her suspiciously, then shifted his sight to Susan and Edmund in the background. Try as they might, they couldn’t turn away quickly enough for Peter to not notice they were eavesdropping. He glanced back at Lucy, then motioned for her to follow him.

               “Alright, what’s going on here?” he asked his siblings. They all shifted awkwardly, not wanting to look him in the eyes. They stood in an uncomfortable silence for a moment longer before Susan finally spoke.

               “We’ve just noticed some rather interesting changes lately, that’s all” she explained.

               “Oh really?” Peter asked. “Like what?”

               “Well, for one, you seem to be in a much better mood” Lucy answered. The others nodded in agreement.

               “And we couldn’t help but notice something different about someone else, too…” Nefyn, who had recently entered the scene, chimed in.

               “Wait, what? Who?” he asked dumbly, searching their faces for answers. They stared at him as if he had three heads, and then it clicked. “Do you mean Ginevra? What are you all getting at?”

               Lucy rolled her eyes and laughed in frustration. “Did something happen with you two? She was like a completely different person, Peter!” The way she said the word something both infuriated and terrified him. They had no right to assume anything had happened between them, and Lucy was certainly far too young to know what any something might be.

               “If you’re hinting at intimacy, then no!” he exclaimed. “Absolutely not!”

               “Then what did happen?” Edmund asked, his tone much calmer and less accusatory.

               “We just had a dignified conversation the other night and came to terms with one another like civilized people” Peter explained. “And maybe I realized that people aren’t always who they seem to be at first. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.” And with that, Peter bid his siblings and friend goodbye and disappeared below deck. They watched him depart for a moment before Lucy slumped down against a barrel and buried her face in her hands.

               “I feel ill” she murmured.

               “Come on, Lucy” Susan replied, a tinge of exhaustion in her voice. “I know we all just want answers, but is it really so easy to argue when Peter’s in such a good mood? We should just be happy that he’s smiling for the first time in ages.”

               The valiant shook her head presently. “No, Su, I mean I really feel ill” she replied. She peered up at her sister through the gaps between her fingers and the gentle could tell the young queen suddenly looked far paler than she had before. She knelt down beside her sister to make sure she was alright but quick as lightning, the valiant bolted upright and vomited over the side of the ship.

               “I’ll go get some ginger lollies” Nefyn replied, galloping below deck. Susan watched in horror, holding her sister’s hair back. Lucy never got seasick.

               Once finished, the valiant slumped down on the deck and gasped for breath. Her hair was matted against her sweaty forehead, eyes sunken and skin pale. Susan pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, wiping the dampness away with her skirt. “Lucy, what’s gotten into you?” The valiant just shook her head and buried her face in her hands.

               “Maybe she’s been poisoned” Edmund commented, pacing back and forth in thought.

               “Ed, that’s ridiculous. Who could’ve poisoned her?” Susan asked.

               “The Brennans” he replied curtly.

               The gentle rolled her eyes. “There is no reason for Ginevra or her family to have poisoned Lucy. That’s ridiculous.”

               “Think about it, Su. Didn’t Lucy just mention something the other day about the salmon?” Edmund proposed. Susan paused in thought for a moment.

               “Oh, please don’t say salmon” Lucy whispered hoarsely, swallowing back another round. Her sister furrowed her brows and glanced to the just with great concern. She didn’t want to believe her new friends would do anything to hurt her baby sister, but she couldn’t avoid the facts. The door to the deck swung open and Nefyn came trotting forward with a bouquet of ginger lollipops and a pitcher of peppermint water.

               “Here you go, your majesty” Nefyn said, holding out the fistful of candy. Lucy plucked one from the centaurette’s hand and slid it into her mouth hesitantly, sliding it against the inside of her cheek. As she did so, Nefyn poured a chalice of peppermint water for her and placed the pitcher atop the nearby barrel. “Did I overhear something about salmon?” she then asked. Lucy groaned and squeezed her eyes shut tight.

               “Susan and I were just wondering about the likelihood of Lucy having been poisoned, considering the other day she said the salmon at lunch tasted funny” Edmund replied.

               Nefyn shook her head. “Can’t be.”

               “What do you mean ‘can’t be’?” Edmund asked. “All the math adds up, Nef.”

               The centaurette rolled her eyes. “You’re trying to add two numerals without finding the unknown variables first” she replied. “Yes, Lucy is sick and yes, she said the…fish…tasted funny. The most likely illness she could have would be shigella, which would appear within twenty four to forty eight hours, but that sickness is mostly spread by contaminated food handlers. If she had fallen ill from that, don’t you think you all would be feeling symptoms, as well?”

               Susan and Edmund sat in thought for a moment, paying close attention to every part of their body to check if they, too, were feeling anything unorthodox. Neither of them could say so. “Well, who’s to say the cook didn’t inject poison into her food specifically?” Edmund asked.

               “It’s hard to say without testing a sample of the meat itself” Nefyn replied. “But I truly don’t think that’s the case here. I’ve seen a wide assortment of oral poisons and their effects and none have so docile an effect as what the queen here is suffering from. Plus, those poisons are designed to act within mere hours after consumption. As far as I know, Lucy only just started feeling nauseous.”

               “Well, if it’s not food poisoning and nobody has contaminated her food, then what is it? And what are we supposed to do about it?” Susan asked. Her head was beginning to spin with all of these unanswered questions. She just wanted to know if her sister would be alright.

               “It’s hard to say. A lot of illnesses have nausea as a common symptom” Nefyn replied. “All I can say for sure is that she’ll need lots of rest and fluids. My father and I will make sure she’s taken care of.”

               Lucy peeked out from behind her hands and shook her head. “It’s really not worth your time, Nefyn. I’m fine! Really, I am!” she insisted. Nefyn, however, refused. She helped Lucy to her feet, suggesting the queen lean on her flank for her support, and escorted her to her chamber. The valiant looked back at her brother and sister sadly as she went, face still pale and eyes still sunken. She didn’t want to worry them, nor did she want to be sick. Susan clutched Edmund’s hand tightly, trying to swallow back her concern. While she didn’t particularly want to let Lucy out of her sight, she knew leaving her in Nefyn and Aesop’s care was the best possible thing for her. They knew what they were doing. She needed to trust that.

               Peter paced his chambers nervously, overthinking his siblings’ words. Did they really think he and Ginevra were romantically involved? And if they did, how could they? Yes, she had changed but that meant nothing for Peter’s relationship with her. They were friends, nothing more. He couldn’t even fathom it evolving into anything else, especially after all the difficulty she had caused him up until the very end of their trip. Besides, his heart still belonged to Eilonwy. She was out there somewhere and if she wasn’t going to come back to him, then he would just have to go out and get her, wherever she was. His determination quickly faltered, however, whenever he glanced out the window and saw just how vast the world really was. She could be anywhere. It could take a lifetime to find her. And wherever she was, she was never guaranteed to stay there, so he could very well find where she had been only to discover she was no longer there. The hopelessness of the situation made his head pound. And to think, none of this would have even been an issue had she just never left in the first place. God, how he missed her.

               The trot of hooves outside stirred Peter from his thoughts. He peered out the doorway to find Nefyn escorting a very pale and sickly Lucy to her chambers. “What’s going on here?” he asked, concern immediately coursing through his veins. Every other thought from moments before melted from his mind.

               “I’m fine, Peter. Really” Lucy insisted.

               Nefyn shook her head. “Lucy has fallen ill. I’m taking her back to be treated and examined by my father.”

               “Wait, ill? With what?” Peter asked.

               “Don’t know yet” Nefyn replied. “Definitely not food poisoning. Surely not any other kind of poisoning.”

               “What do you mean ‘other kind of poisoning’? What’s going on?” Peter asked, growing more and more frantic every second. Lucy placed a hand on his chest and looked up at him sternly.

               “Listen to me, Peter: I am fine. Nothing is wrong with me! I don’t want you to worry one bit” she insisted. And thus Nefyn tugged her along back to her chamber. Peter watched with dismay as they disappeared, his positivity quickly vanishing. He looked back out upon the sea and sucked in a deep breath. He desperately prayed that they would return home soon.

               The journey was long and uneventful, the days laced with worry about their dear Lucy. Peter, Susan, and Edmund checked on her as often as they could—or at least as often as Aesop would let them. And in the meantime, they prepared themselves for the tsunami of responsibility that lie ahead. They had been away from home for so long, surely a stack of paperwork a mile high would await them upon their return. Regardless of that rude awakening, however, the sight of Cair Paravel hazy on the horizon was a rushing welcome of relief and happiness. To finally be back home, in one’s own comfortable bed, among the same familiar and friendly faces.

               Tumnus and the Beavers were already there on the docks prepared to greet them with open arms and warm smiles. Lucy hugged her dear friend tightly, bombarding him with questions all on what they had missed, and kissed each of the Beavers on the head. She had finally started to feel a bit better a day or two prior, no longer vomiting or complaining of stomach cramps. As happy as they all were to see her up and about and well again, deep down her siblings still felt a twinge of paranoia as to what made her so sick in the first place. Surely there had to be some cause. Falling ill like that was so unlike her. Whenever they questioned her about it, however, she’d narrow her eyes at them and tell them to stop treating her like a child, that nothing was the matter with her and they should just be grateful she’s feeling better without all of this interrogation. The attitude was also quite unlike Lucy but in an effort to not face another barrage of frustration from her, they tried their best to keep their mouths shut on the subject.

“Did we miss anything important while we were gone?” Peter asked. Tumnus furrowed his brows and twiddled as his fingers as he recounted the past few weeks.

“Nothing too extraordinary, your highness. Just some routine paperwork and things” he replied. Then, as if a lightbulb had suddenly switched on in his head, he exclaimed “Oh! And there is one other thing. A few days ago, a message was delivered to you from Brenn. I’m not quite sure what it may be about, but I suggest you take a close look at it to be safe.” Peter’s heart leapt into his throat. He patted the faun on the shoulder and thanked him before stepping inside the castle and heading up to his office.

It felt weird returning home after such a long journey, and for more than just the obvious reasons. Before they had left, he was depressed and defeated. Everything reminded him of Eilonwy. His heart ached for the days when she was still there. Now, the pain was certainly still present, but something in him felt different. There was a numbness. Everything still reminded him of her, but he felt no adverse reaction deep inside of himself. No urge to cry passing her chamber or seeing her engagement ring still sitting upon his dresser. Instead, there was just…emptiness. He thought of the wooden figurine Lucy had given him for Christmas, the way it snapped in half when Ginevra tossed it across the room. A sour taste rose into the back of his mouth. He turned his attention to the letter on his desk sealed with pale wax stamped with Brenn’s crest. He opened it carefully, something immediately falling from the folded page. He leaned down to pick up the trinket as he skimmed the letter, finding Ginevra’s signature at the bottom. You seemed so awestruck by my ribbons when last you were here, that I felt it necessary to make you one of your own. Consider it a token of our friendship, and of my gratitude to you for all you have taught me in the short time which you spent with us. In his opposite hand was a tiny ribbon kite of folded baby blue ribbon, his name scrawled on the tail in gorgeous gold calligraphy. A smile touched his lips and suddenly, a strange sensation began overtaking his body. It was a sort of blossoming from the center of his chest, something full of hope and warmth and kindness. It was uncertainty and excitement, as if his entire body had been electrified from a deep sleep he was unaware he was in. Peter glanced to the letter once more, then gazed out his window at the landscape spread before him. This was the first time in a long time that he had ever felt anything remotely close to this, or what he suspected this was. Deep within him, something equally awesome and terrifying had begun to take root.

[english102-1031-blog]

Applied Knowledge Is Real Power

Where did we all come from? How did we come to be?

As creatures who were able to figure out how to land a man on the moon, we must have come a long way from our dear old Lucy, Australopithecus afarensis. Over four million years ago, our ancestors were probably too simple-minded to know what was good and what was bad for them. All in all we used to be very unwise. But if you are anything like the modern scientist, then you must believe in evolution—not just of our physical traits, but also evolution of our brains.

As each new year passes, human beings learn more. Take when you were a baby for example, you didn’t know how to walk, speak, or stop crying. Slowly, you learned how to do a lot more than just feed yourself. You began to sing, dance, and hang up posters of boy bands in your room. You learned ways in which you could satisfy your spiritual and intellectual needs. You taught yourself how to paint a mural, ride a bicycle, and how to love romantically. At around the age of entering college, you have probably experienced the meaning of accountability, what lack of sleep does to you, and how to balance a thousand different things at once. Even when life throws so many new surprises in your face, a person adapts to them all.

My main point being: everything that you have experienced you have learned about. How do you place your feet on two pedals and balance your weight? What is the best way to study for an exam? How do you do your own laundry when your parents are not there to do it for you? This knowledge that you gain accumulates all throughout your life, and you do nothing but apply it to all that is occurring around you. You can apply this gift to your life in good or bad ways, the choice is ultimately yours. Just know if you never absorbed, retained, and utilized the skills you were taught, then how else would you have come this far?

Let’s delve further into the belief that applied knowledge is real power.

Sure, knowledge can be picked up anywhere, whether one is not attending an institution or is. But being a college student, I am going to argue the latter.

I love college, it is as fun and cool as they all say. But to me, college is so much more than that. It’s the time that we learn accountability for our own actions. There are no adults babysitting you anymore, telling you when to go to bed or when homework is due. It is the time we learn the true definition of responsibility while we fight to achieve A+s. A repetitive cycle of losing and finding yourself, college is where growth and “adulting” are inevitable.

Post-secondary education is meant to be tough on us because it prepares us for the real world. It’s sole purpose is to train us, to yield us into smart adults who not only remember information but also apply it to our lives.

Look at our Founding Fathers for example! They had the right idea when they entered post-secondary school.

John Adams, Theodore Roosevelt- Harvard University

Thomas Jefferson- The College of William and Mary

James Madison- Princeton University

Some of the nation’s most influential leaders attended an institution where they graduated with degrees and undoubtedly took their expertise elsewhere to mold and shape our country.

Now when I say that applied knowledge is power, I do not mean that you are going to become the next president overnight. You hear this iconic phrase for a reason. I believe that the best place to gather knowledge in the 21st century is at a collegiate institution.

Our educational systems are expanding and are producing some of the brightest individuals known to man. Collegiate class structure may be more dense and rigorous than grade school, yet the value of knowledge is still the same if not greater.

All of one’s resources and opportunities are bundled into one when you attend college. Just go to class, take the gift, and use it. It is up to one’s own self to draw upon an institution’s riches. Upon doing so an individual walks away with valuable information as well as life skills that are solely unique to a college experience.

The power in knowledge does not come from just sitting in class and memorizing words. This power is the result of implementing our education into our lifestyle. School helps one to develop certain skills that can be used in all aspects of life outside the classroom.

For example, group projects teach us about teamwork and sharing the weight load. Of course, we often dread these tasks because there is always that one person that does all the work and the one person that contributed nothing at all. Still, the idea of these projects is to get students to come together as a team and to collectively carry across an idea. And being a part of a team does not always mean stepping up to be the leader and directing the entire group. A team player should also know when the time is right to step down and encourage the soft-spoken. This is most certainly applicable to a job outside of college.

Teamwork is found everywhere in life. A company cannot run with only one man at the head, he needs his assistants to aid him in running an operation smoothly. Sure, one man can probably open up, run, and keep his business afloat but in order for it to expand and become a multi-million dollar empire that man is going to need a little bit of help. Being a team player is just one skill out of the many that makes a man a more well-rounded individual. This skill will assist him in succeeding in the adult world.

So you see, a college education can provide you with knowledge which in turn delivers for you skills such as teamwork that will further transform you into a more well-rounded person.  Learning is detrimental to a person’s growing up. This knowledge that is engrained in you during college will push you to rise to success and teach you how to gain real power in the world.  

 -Ally B.