#then we were shown the blue crystals in her cabinet

[ajerzaaddict]

Let’s make things right between us

Jellal believed that Erza shouldn't be with him for valid reasons, but Erza thought otherwise. And she would fight until she make things right between them.

Rated: M

Words: 5.8k+

FFN

I can’t believe I’ve actually come up with 5.8k+ words for a oneshot. And it has taken me near 6 months to complete this, as I checked that I actually created the doc on 31/3/2021. The lack of canon contents was discouraging me, and there were other things occupying me as well. So usually I wrote a few paragraphs and then would put it aside for weeks. Anyway, I’m so glad that I’ve done it and happy with the outcome. I really hope that you find this rollercoaster of Jerza filled with hurt / comfort / sexy time enjoyable to read.

~~~

"Jellal."

His shoulders stiffened when Jellal heard his name being uttered by the voice he yearned but also feared to hear. Slowly, he turned his head to look at the uninvited visitor.

"Erza." There was a tightness in Jellal's voice. He was slightly irritated, but mostly nervous. "How did you find me here?"

"I'm sorry I can't tell you. I've promised confidentiality to my source." Erza opened the wooden gate and stepped into the backyard.

"Nevermind." Jellal sighed. His location should only be known to his former guild mates. "Then may I ask what brings you to me?"

Erza looked at Jellal with a piercing gaze. "It has taken me hours to come to see you. How about you being a friendly host, inviting me to your cottage for a seat and offering me a cup of tea? Then I can answer whatever questions you have for me."

Jellal stared back at Erza as he considered the options he had, but decided there was none other than complying with Erza's request because she definitely would not take his rejection as an answer. He took a deep breath, then exhaled.

"Please come in." He finally looked away from Erza as he injected his magic force into the magic-driven wheelchair through the body-link to move himself towards the cottage's backdoor.

Erza followed Jellal in silence. Passing through the backdoor, they entered the dining room equipped with an open kitchen.

Erza was surprised to find there was a woman in the room, and her heart suddenly felt heavy. The woman was a blonde like Lucy but had short hair. She was in the middle of clearing the dishes when she sensed their presence and turned to look at them. Erza studied her face and guessed that she was of a similar age to Jellal, not older than thirty.

"Mr. Fernandes." The woman greeted Jellal before fixing her gaze on Erza. "Oh, you have a guest. Would you like me to serve you and this lady anything?"

"Thanks, Iris. There's no such need. I have something private to discuss with my guest, so you can leave earlier today."

Iris nodded her understanding and took off the apron and put it in the kitchen drawer. "Then I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Fernandes."

"See you tomorrow, Iris. Thanks for your hard work today."

"Not a problem." Iris smiled at Jellal before she excused herself.

"Take a seat." Jellal told Erza after Iris left the room.

"Is Iris your domestic helper?" Erza tried to ask casually as she took her seat at one of the two chairs placed by a small round dining table.

"She's not merely a domestic helper. She's my caretaker as well, assisting me in doing things I can't handle on my own in daily life." Jellal answered while moving to the stove cabinet that was clearly specially made lower to suit his height in the wheelchair. "I'm sorry that I only have coffee but not tea. Or would you rather have water?"

"Water will be fine, thanks."

Jellal filled two glasses of water and put them in a tray. He then placed the tray on his lap and directed the wheelchair to the dining table. He settled himself at Erza's opposite before placing the tray on top of the table.

Erza picked up one glass and took a mouthful of water; while Jellal simply watched her and left his glass untouched on the tray, waiting in silence.

"I'm here to fight for my happiness." Erza said as she laid the glass on the table, and looked straight into Jellal's eyes. "And I won't leave until I get what I want."

Jellal balled his hand around the wheelchair's armrest as he willed himself to hold Erza's determined gaze which seemed to penetrate his soul. "You've come to the wrong person, Erza. What you are looking for is not something I can offer you."

Erza snorted. "You sound like you really know what can make me happy, better than I do. But Jellal, you don't really. You need to stop deciding what is the best for me and assuming you can't give me what I need."

"Aren't you assuming, too, Erza?" Jellal questioned, raising his voice in frustration. He knew Erza didn't like being challenged but he was also not afraid of confronting her when needed. "Didn't you sound like you know me better than I know myself when it comes to what I'm capable of giving and what not?"

Erza slammed her hands on the table top, shooting up from her chair. "Then let's speak our minds and make things clear for each other once and for all, and stop making assumptions any further." She paused and swallowed. "I love you, Jellal. I have a crush on you the moment you named me Scarlet and since then I've never stopped loving you."

"Stop it please, Erza." Jellal asked in a distressed tone.

Leaning forward, Erza grabbed Jellal's shirt and pulled him closer.

"I've never stopped wishing for us to be together one day since I met you again before the Grand Magic Games. After Zeref and Achnologia have been defeated, after you've been pardoned by the Queen, I thought my wish would come true finally." Angry and hurtful tears pricked at the corners of Erza's eyes.

Gritting his teeth, Jellal turned his head to the side and closed his eyes as it was too much for him to watch Erza crying sadly because of him once again.

"Yet you avoided me when I tried to reach you after you were pandonned, and chose to isolate yourself, not giving me a chance, not giving yourself a chance, to find the happiness we deserve together. "

Jellal grasped Erza's wrist as he came face to face with her again. "What kind of happiness can you find in taking care of a handicapped man like me for the rest of your life, Erza?" He questioned in a grave tone. "You'll just find I'm nothing but a burden to you eventually."

Erza searched Jellal's eyes. She found herself still being enthralled by their beautiful deep blue color which reminded her of the ocean at night. But it also pained her to see that they were dimmed by sorrow which blocked out the light of hope.

"Why are you having so little trust in me even though I've shown you time after time and crisis after crisis, that I'll never give up on you no matter what happens to you, Jellal?" Teardrops rolling down her face like a chain of pearls. "And how can you still belittle yourself as nothing but a burden? You've protected me from danger and comforted me in ways no other could when I was vulnerable despite your physical disabilities!"

"But I couldn't even have come to your side without someone else's help!" Jellal cried out in pain. "There are many things I can no longer do on my own and I must rely on a caretaker to live my everyday life. And I don't want you to shoulder such a duty for a lifetime!" Jellal lowered his head as he could no longer hold back his tears from falling. "I'm very sorry to disappoint you, Erza. I'm very sorry you've invested your love in the wrong person, that is me. Please don't waste your time on me anymore. You should live freely, not be bound by me."

Jellal wouldn't be surprised if Erza rebuked him, or even slapped him in the face, for being a coward who didn't dare to accept the love of his life because he didn't know how to overcome his insecurity. He wished she would. He deserved to receive her anger. But what descended on him was only a heavy silence which seemed to suffocate him.

"I'm already tired of you forcing your vision of freedom on me. It never ended well."

Erza's voice was nothing more than a whisper, but her words were crystal clear and sharp like her sword, breaking the silence as well as slicing through Jellal's heart. Placing his hand over his left chest as he felt his heart aching, Jellal slowly raised his head, glancing at Erza with anguish-filled eyes.

Erza released Jellal's shirt from her hold. Wiping her cheeks with both hands, she tried to dry them from her tears, before she took a few deep breaths to force down her sobbing.

"You so desperately want me to leave you, don't you? Then this is how you can make it." She kneeled in front of Jellal such that she could look into his eyes on the same level. "You only need to look me in the eyes and tell me that my love for you is one-sided all along, that you've never loved me, and you never will."

Jellal's eyes widened in disbelief. "Erza…"

"Tell me what I've told you, and I'll gather the pieces of my broken heart and disappear from your life forever ."

"Have I not already made my point clear enough for you, Erza? Why can't you just accept the reasons I've given you?" In a shaky voice, Jellal almost cried out his questions.

"I'm waiting, Jellal. If you can't tell me to go from the bottom of your heart, then allow me to stay."

"Just…...leave me alone." Jellal shut his eyes and balled his hand over his chest.

"Look at me Jellal!"

Countless moments in their past flashed across Jellal's mind, like a movie being played fast-backward. He still remembered it like yesterday, the joyful look on Erza's face when he named her Scarlet, and the first taste of falling in love when she thanked him with a timid smile which made his heart skip a beat and jump unusually quick. Their fate had intertwined since then. To deny that he had been in love with Erza since they were young teenagers was like abandoning the most influential element which made up the Jellal Fernandes he was today.

Yet, he believed he was a man who was already too broken to be repaired anyway. It seemed like a fitting fate for him to lose himself more by severing his ties with Erza completely. He told himself that it would also release Erza from his bond, so he should not hesitate to become a cruel man to smash Erza's heart, as well as his own.

Jellal had never felt his eyelids so heavy before when he opened his eyes again to look at Erza, the woman who was like the force of his life. Putting down his hands on the armrests, he held them firmly as he felt his body trembling.

"Your love for me is an unrequited one and I never…"

He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence.

In a lighting speed, Erza had held Jellal's face between her hands and crashed her mouth over his.

Startled by Erza's sudden advancement, Jellal was immobilized as Erza greedily tasted him. He grabbed her shoulders once the initial shock was over, trying to push her away. But Erza refused to let him go. As they struggled against each other, the wheelchair, being unable to withstand their combined forces, lost its balance. Jellal fell forward and into Erza, landing on top of her as Erza fell backward on the floor.

They were both panting as they took a break from their fight and kiss. Jellal's face was buried in Erza's hair and between her head and shoulder. Her scent was alluring, that it took every ounce of his will for him to not give in to her seduction and stay but to distance himself from her by pushing his upper body up.

He looked into Erza's teary red eyes and sighed. "You've never planned to actually accept my rejection, didn't you?"

"I simply can't lose you." Erza admitted with a bitter smile. "And I shouldn't have challenged you, forcing you to say things which were against your heart and will. For that I apologize."

"And I'm sorry for trying to tell the biggest lie to you. But Erza." His eyes were filled with sadness but also tenderness as Jellal gazed at Erza. "You must understand that love can't be the solution to everything. And you must accept that even if we are in love with each other, being together still may not be the best choice for the both of us."

"Love can't be the solution to everything, but it's what motivates us to find one even when the problem seems unsolvable. It's the force which keeps us moving forward when we feel tired and weak. Love gives us comfort and warmth and courage which helps us to endure suffering when life gets cruel." Holding Jellal's shoulders, Erza rolled them over and got on top of him. "But not everyone is lucky enough to find love in life. There's no other worse choice than rejecting love when we are blessed with it. I really, really, hope that we can treasure the love we found in each other and allow its power to grow on us."

Jellal breathed a sigh and smiled a small knowing smile. "You are ever optimistic, Erza."

"That's why I'm a perfect match for you who is ever pessimistic. We can balance each other out."

Gently, Erza held Jellal's right cheek in her palm.

"Do you love me, Jellal?"

Jellal knew he should not evade the issue again as they were trying to make peace with each other after going through an angst drama.

"Always."

"Do you love me?"

Jellal breathed deeply. "I love you, Erza." He said it with his clearest voice and firmest tone. "I always do, and always will."

"Thank you." Smiling, Erza whispered, then lowered her head and pressed her lips over Jellal's. This time, she kissed him less forcefully but more sensually.

Jellal was hesitant to react, but also unable to reject Erza. Having admitted his love for her was like having his heart stripped of the steel wall he built around it, making it impossible for him to pretend any further that he didn't enjoy her kiss. When Erza traced his lips with the tip of her tongue asking for entrance to his mouth, he finally let go of his last restraint and gave in to his desire.

Running his fingers through Erza's hair at the back of her head, Jellal opened his mouth and wrapped his tongue around her intruding one. He had never known a taste as toxic as Erza Scarlet in his life. He forced their tongues into her mouth as his desire to taste her more thoroughly grew beyond his control. He explored her warm, wet cavern as far as his tongue could reach, as well as stroking her tongue with his.

Erza felt dizzy. Jellal had not only taken away her breath and emptied her mind as he kissed her eagerly and dominantly, but had also ignited an aching need deep in her core and between her thighs. Moaning deep in her throat, she ground her groin against Jellal's.

Jellal snapped out of the spell of the kiss and regained his senses as Erza's action made him realize that he had led them to something he feared to face. His hand slid down Erza's head. Grabbing her shoulder, he pushed her away from him, breaking their kiss finally.

A thread of their mixed saliva stretched between their parted lips as they both panted heavily to draw air in their lungs.

"I can't." Jellal said once his breathing resumed normal.

Disappointment flashed across Erza's face but she managed to keep her negative emotion at bay.

"What do you mean? What are you worried about?" She asked Jellal in a concerned tone.

Jellal covered his eyes with his palm. He had wished that he would never need to reveal his disturbing problem to Erza. He could have kept it in the dark if Erza had accepted his rejection and left. But now, after he had failed to convince her to give up on him and even given her hope in their relationship with his confession of love, he knew he must tell her the truth. She needed to know it.

"My injury has not only rendered my legs useless." Jellal paused, tasting an unusual bitterness on his tongue. Or the taste was only from his imagination, reflecting his unwillingness to admit his incompetence to Erza. He swallowed hard before continuing. "I'm…...suffering from a certain degree of…...sexual dysfunction, too."

Silence engulfed them once again. After a moment, Erza held Jellal's hand over his eyes and tried to pull it away from his face. To her relief, Jellal had not put up much resistance; although he had chosen to look sideways instead of at her after she uncovered his face. She didn't blame his act of avoidance. She tried to make him at ease, caressing his forehead with her fingertips. Then she ran her fingers along his eyebrows and traced the shape of his facial tattoo, before she palmed his face, stroking his cheekbone with her thumb.

Jellal casted a glance at Erza. He didn't look as stressed as a moment ago, and heaved a quiet sigh. "You have every right to change your mind and leave me, Erza. And I won’t blame you."

Erza smiled a little, shaking her head. "I didn't come here looking for you unprepared, Jellal."

She straightened her back and moved to Jellal's side. Kneeling on one knee, she picked Jellal off the floor in bridal style.

Out of instinct, Jellal wrapped his arms around Erza's neck to steady himself, and his face turned slightly pink out of embarrassment.

"Erza? What are you doing?" He asked in a voice laced with anxiety.

"I don't suppose the hard floor is a comfortable place for you to lie on." Erza answered matter-of-factly as she walked out of the dining room.

On the other side of the door was the living room which was furnished with a two-seat couch, a coffee table, two bookshelves and a fireplace. Erza glanced around, then moved towards the two closed doors on her left-hand side.

"Is your bedroom behind one of these doors?"

"The one…...on the right." Jellal answered hesitantly as he was still unsure about the purpose behind Erza's action.

"Could you help open the door for us to go in?"

"What are you planning, Erza?"

"I just want you to loosen up while we try to sort things out between us."

Jellal sighed, not being completely convinced by Erza's answer. He did what she asked anyway.

Erza closed the door with her feet after entering Jellal's bedroom. She tenderly laid Jellal down in his bed ensuring that she would not hurt him, before she joined him in the bed. She lay back down beside him and rolled onto her side. She then rested her forehead against his strong upper arm while she held his hand in one of hers and put her other arm around his chest.

"When I decided that I would do anything to bring you back to me, I borrowed books trying to find out what kind of health issues and inconveniences would be faced by people who suffered the similar injuries as yours in their daily lives, and to learn some caretaking skills. Things were much more difficult to understand than I originally expected, though." Erza laughed dryly as she admitted her incompetence.

Jellal said nothing, but Erza knew he was listening intently, feeling his chest expand and contract under her arm as he breathed in and out deeply.

"Luckily Wendy was nearby and always helpful when I asked her questions; and also Porlyurisca, despite her resentment towards human contact, has given me some professional advice on things Wendy couldn't answer. She's always a little bit more lenient to me than to other people when I need her help."

Erza lifted her face to look at Jellal as her hand slid up his chest and found his face. Their eyes met when Jellal turned his face towards her.

"What you have just confessed on the floor of the dining room…...was one of the things I've prepared to face once we become a couple. It's not a big deal. There are many ways which allow us to satisfy each other." She looked away for a moment and lowered her voice. "It's also possible for us to make our own babies with the help of some tools if it's what we want. But no matter what." She turned her gaze back on Jellal. "I won't give you up because of this issue, or any other challenges."

Jellal cradled Erza's cheek in his palm; and tears appeared at the corners of his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

Erza asked gently. "What's it about this time?"

"I haven't expected that behind your resolution in being with me, you've made such a big effort to understand my circumstances, and to prepare yourself for living with me. I assumed you came to find me without knowing all the troubles I'm facing or you may face to be with me, and said something terrible to you. I'm truly sorry."

"I didn't blame you. Like what I've said earlier, I knew that love can't be the solution to everything. So I tried to find out what challenges await me to become a part of your life, and to prepare myself to face them. Jellal, I'm truly ready."

"I trust you are. I'm just...worried that the responsibility of looking after me will tire you out in the long run because things could be more difficult in real life than they look on paper. Iris is already the third caretaker I hire. The previous two quit in less than three months because they felt the workload was too heavy."

Erza chuckled. "You don't compare me with ordinary people. Have you forgotten which guild I come from? I've helped look after a guild filled with some of the most difficult people to handle on the continent for years, yet I'm still good and don't find it a problem. But we would probably need a part-time helper so that someone can assist you when I'm away for long. Anyway, listen, Jellal." Erza put on a serious look. "I truly hope that you are finally convinced that we can be together, and understand that it will bring me infinite joy instead of making me miserable, with everything I've said and done."

Jellal took Erza's hand and placed it over his loudly-beating heart.

"I'm a handicapped man with a broken heart. I feel…...very inferior to you, the best woman and also person I've ever known, and ashamed to offer myself to you. But…...I'm all yours as long as you want me."

"You are my treasure and all I want." Tipping her head upward, Erza closed the distance between her lips and Jellal's. It delighted her that Jellal responded immediately, kissing her back. Their lips moved against each other in an unhurried yet fervent manner as they tried to enjoy the moment but also couldn't get enough of each other. Only when their lungs screamed for air that they finally pulled away from each other.

Erza slid one leg over Jellal's thighs and got on top of him as soon as her breathing had returned to normal, and used her equip magic to change into nothing but her underwear: a set of bra and panties made of thin white lace embroidered with flower patterns which barely covered her nipples and private area.

Jellal widened his eyes and opened his mouth slightly. He was not only unprepared for Erza's bold action, but he was also in awe seeing the divine beauty of her almost naked form. He took a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart before he was finally able to take his eyes off Erza's glorious body but to look at her face instead. He found that her face had already turned rose-pink, and her lips were pressed into a thin line. Despite appearing shy and nervous, she chose to look at him instead of avoiding his gaze.

"We have time. We can take things slow." Jellal suggested. He didn't want Erza to force herself to do something she didn't feel comfortable with. And he wasn't sure if he really should develop physical intimacy with Erza in the current moment. Everything between them seemed to progress too fast all of a sudden and out of his grasp.

Erza shook her head.

"Eighteen years have passed since we parted ways in the Tower of Heaven against our will. I think we should make up for the immense time we've lost without further waiting."

Leaning forward, Erza laid her body flat against Jellal's and held his face to kiss him again. Jellal slid one hand to her bare back and weaved the other into her hair as he opened his mouth to welcome her tongue in, choosing to go with the flow and abandoning his hesitation.

Their kiss came to a halt when Erza drew back. She took a deep breath, and then brought her mouth to Jellal's throat. She trailed wet kisses from his Adam's apple to his chin and along his jawline, while her hand went underneath his shirt, roaming over his abdomen and chest. His nipples hardened under her touch and she pinched one lightly between her fingers.

A sigh fell out from Jellal's lips.

"Have I made you feel good?" Lips brushing against his ear, Erza asked Jellal in a whisper. Jellal nodded.

"I want to feel you touching me in the same way." She brushed his other nipple with her fingertips. "Have you ever fantasized holding my breasts in your hands? Caressing them, fondling them, squeezing them? Dreaming of rubbing my nipples between your fingers and of me moaning your name?"

Jellal shut his eyes, and various fantasies he had made about Erza flashed across his mind. He couldn't help but question if all the flirtatious words he had just heard were also from the Erza he imagined. Yet, he could clearly feel his body temperature rising, and his heartbeat quickening. He felt aroused; something he could only experience occasionally since he was injured. He opened his eyes to look at the real Erza. Raising a hand, he cupped the side of her left breast and squeezed.

Erza gave a little yelp and lifted up her head; her eyes found Jellal's. Jellal wasn't sure if the emotion he saw in Erza's eyes was surprise or excitement, or both. But he had no doubt that the color of her face had turned red like her hair.

"Should I stop?" He asked.

"You should continue." Erza pushed herself up with both hands and got on her knees, hovering above Jellal with her hair falling down like a red curtain at both sides of his head.

Jellal held Erza's cheek with his unoccupied hand as he looked at her fondly like he had found the brightest star in the sky. Being trapped in the scarlet world of Erza with her alone, isolated from the outside world, Jellal seemed to finally be able to honestly admit to himself that no matter how undeserved he felt of Erza, his desire to be with her would never die. If it was a sin for him to accept Erza into his life, he would willingly bear such sin instead of pushing her away.

"I love you, Erza." Smiling, Jellal ran his hand down to Erza's neck, over her collarbone and the side of her right breast, before cupping her breast from its underside.

"And I love you too, Jellal."

Sighs fell from Erza's lips as Jellal began working on her breasts and nipples over the thin fabric of her bra.

"Ah. Yes. Keep on." Erza encouraged Jellal, trying to arouse him more. "Make me wetter."

She freed one hand to unzip Jellal's pants. She then pulled his underwear down and reached for his manhood. She had seen naked men many times but touching a man's cock was a first time for her. Feeling both curious and nervous, she palmed Jellal's member.

"You feel smooth." She wrapped her fingers around him and began stroking, in the way she learnt from books. Gradually, he swelled and stiffened slightly in her hand. "How about I massage you between my legs instead?"

"Oh god. Erza." Jellal felt pleasure rising from deep in his stomach as Erza pumped him quicker and seduced him with words.

Erza leaned back as she lowered her bottom onto Jellal's thighs and pulled her breasts away from his hold. Jellal pushed his upper body up from the mattress with his elbows and forearms to have a better look at Erza. His heart skipped a few beats as he watched Erza gilding her lace-covered core along his length.

Erza moaned lowly in pleasure, feeling the aching need of her damp, throbbing folds being soothed by the physical contact with Jellal's flesh. She flattened one palm on Jellal's abdomen for support as she rubbed herself harder against his partly erect cock, and alternately rolled her nipples between her fingers to stimulate herself further.

Jellal fisted the bed sheet and panted, feeling his inside burning with lust which he had not experienced as strongly for a long time, as he watched Erza pleasuring herself with his body. Her arousal had already soaked through her tiny panties and rubbed over his cock. Her nipples stood hard and popped against her bra after receiving all the ministration from his and her hands and her breasts were bouncing as she moved her hips back and forth. Her moans falling out from her parted red lips were mixed with the sound of his name. He could feel excitement tingling over every nerve endings of his upper body. It was like Erza had awakened his lost senses with the combined forces of intimate touches, erotic view of her body and the lewd sound she made. He growled deep inside his throat and his head fell back with his eyes shutting closed and his teeth biting his lower lip, when a strong wave of rapture washed over him.

Erza smiled in relief when she realized that Jellal had reached his peak. She slowed down her movement to a stop despite having not reached her own climax. When Jellal laid his back flat on the mattress again, she lifted herself off him and moved forward to take his face between her palms. She then dipped her head to kiss him on the lips.

"I'm so glad you enjoyed the things I did with you."

"You are marvelous." Jellal smiled and ran his fingers through Erza's hair. "But things between us aren't over yet. I want to make you feel satisfied, too. Would you turn around with your back facing me?"

It warmed Erza's heart that Jellal not only cared about her, but also showed willingness in taking the lead in their newly established relationship. She nodded and did what he asked, turning her body around and straddling his waist.

Jellal palmed one side of Erza buttocks and pushed lightly, making her lean forward a little to leave a gap between their bodies. Erza steadied herself by grabbing Jellal's thighs. Jellal then slid his free hand through Erza's inner thighs and pressed two fingers against her slit through the damp panties. Erza sucked in a deep breath. Jellal started stroking her with his fingers sliding up and down along the lace barely covering her opening, drawing sighs out from her mouth. He soon felt his fingers being coated in Erza's juice, and slid them beneath her panties. Her lip-shaped folds against his fingers were slick and soft and warm, being more ready to welcomed his fingers in.

"Let me know if I hurt you."

"Okay." Erza breathed out the word.

Jellal slipped his fingers partially into Erza's folds first, giving her some time to adapt. When Erza gave him no sign of stop, he then inserted his fingers fully into her core. Erza uttered a cry; her inner walls spasmed as they were stretched by Jellal's intruded fingers more than she had ever done to herself with her own.

Jellal pulled his fingers out a little and thrust them back into Erza's tight core, and repeated the action. He spread and twisted his fingers every time he buried them deep inside of her, to explore and excite her sensitive spots. Erza moaned and mewled helplessly and her body trembled, and it didn't take long for her to start riding Jellal's fingers.

Jellal felt like he had been turned on again watching a lust-filled Erza fucking his fingers zealously. He could perfectly picture it was actually his cock but not his fingers which was filling Erza up and being hugged by her inner walls. His body was burning up, and his heartbeat was drumming against his chest echoing Erza's moans.

"Oh dear. More, Jellal. More." Erza gasped and her nails dug into Jellal's thighs as she tightened her hold on him.

Complying with her demand, Jellal added a third finger in thrusting Erza, and slid his hand on her buttock over her thigh to reach for the bundle of nerves at the top of her opening. He easily located it beneath the panties as it had already stuck out from her folds waiting to be touched. He pinched it between his fingertips, massaging it. The additional effort he made soon pushed Erza over the edge into ecstasy. She screamed his name and squeezed his hand between her thighs as she came on his fingers; her juice overflowed and left a trail along his palm to his wrist.

Jellal breathed deeply to slow down his erratically beating heart before he slid his fingers out Erza's core. Erza panted for air on top of him until she regained her breath, then she slid off him and lay down at his side.

Jellal turned his head to look at Erza and she, sensing his gaze, turned to look at him as well.

"I love you." They said at the same time, and both laughed softly at their perfect timing.

Jellal held Erza by her shoulder as he looked at her with a tender loving gaze. "You are the biggest miracle to ever happen in my life, Erza. I promise I'll cherish you as much as I can, and do my best to improve my physical conditions with whatever therapy or medicine which are considered useful."

Erza nodded her head with contentment; her eyes welled up with happy tears. "And I'll always walk by your side to support you, to love you. The road ahead of us may not be easy to walk, but we can do it."

"As long as there is love, am I right?"

"Absolutely." A heartfelt and satisfied smile spread across Erza's face. She then yawned as she finally felt consumed by the tiredness accumulated from all the things she had done in the day: taking hours of travel to find Jellal, confronting him first, persuading him next and finally having sex with him. She snuggled against Jellal's chest, closing her eyes. "But now, I simply want to take a nap with you, and also take a shower afterwards. Then we shall see what we should do next."

"Sure." Jellal kissed Erza on the forehead, before closing his eyes as well. "Rest as much as you need."

Having never felt as peaceful and as fulfilled in their hearts, they quickly fell into a sweet slumber.

~~~

You should have already known where I got this idea of Jellal being disabled and using wheelchair if you are in the fandom long enough but if you don’t, see this.

[johaerys-writes]

Where Blood Roses Bloom

Fandom: Castlevania

Pairings: Alucard/Trevor Belmont/Sypha, Hector/Lenore

Summary:

After Trevor gets grievously injured by a night creature, he and Sypha return to Dracula’s castle to seek Alucard’s help. The man they find there, however, is but a shadow of the friend they left behind.

Meanwhile, in far Styria, Hector does his best to survive in the vampires’ court, a lamb amidst wolves. Little do the wolves know, the lamb has fangs of its own.

Chapter 10: Higher Than Heartache is up, where Alucard leaves the ghosts of his past behind, with the help of his friends. Oh, and smut ;)

Part of the chapter here, the rest on Ao3! Or read from the beginning

“You don’t have to do this with me,” Adrian says. “You don’t have to be here for this.”

The wind whips at Sypha’s hair, bringing strawberry blond locks before her eyes as she turns to look at him. Her smile, when it widens her lips, is soft.

“Don’t be silly. Of course we do.” She turns to Belmont, who is already advancing towards the staked bodies. The thought of going near them has Adrian’s stomach turning in knots, but he makes himself follow, albeit reluctantly.

“She’s right,” Belmont says, grabbing the wooden base of the stake and pulling. “Some friends we would be, if we left you alone with… with that.”

“I did that,” Adrian says quietly. “It’s only fair that I take care of it myself.”

“Nice try, Alucard, but no,” Belmont says, casually waving his words away. “Besides, there has to be someone strong enough to lift those things, right? Wouldn’t want you to pull a muscle or something.” He makes a face as he pulls again, the stake budging only a hair.

Adrian rolls his eyes and huffs, and the faint loathing and apprehension that had coiled in his gut a moment before, when he was looking at the bodies, dissipates as he makes his way to Belmont’s side. He grabs the stake with one hand and easily plucks it out of the ground. “I am stronger than you, you know.”

Belmont grins, his face flushed. He brushes the back of his sleeve over his brow and winks at him as he says, “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

Sypha chuckles, and it’s such an odd thing for them to laugh and joke and smile, while doing something like this. Thinking about it, though, it’s not that odd at all, when it comes to those two. Belmont and Sypha have always defied the odds, have always done the impossible. Perhaps it’s one of the reasons, Adrian thinks, that he’s so drawn to them.  

Before long, the stakes with the bodies are on the ground, side by side. Adrian takes a step back, letting them rest for a moment while he catches his breath. Belmont is beside him, and Sypha’s standing on his other side, the three of them together gazing at the withered corpses. Adrian can still discern the traces of resemblance, but they’re twisted beyond recognition.

Even so, he can bring their faces to mind, as if he only saw them the day before. It still stings to look too long, to think of it too long.

It is Sypha that takes the first step forward. She lifts her hands, and the bodies burst into flames, the pikes with them. Adrian takes a sharp breath as he watches the black smoke drifting up in thick plumes towards the sky. They watch in silence as the flames consume them.

When all but ash remains, Adrian stares at the miserable, blackened pile on the ground, the sorry remnants of the people that betrayed him, that hurt him. Perhaps, in a different life, where their paths had not crossed his, they would have still been out there somewhere, hunting vampires and monsters, living their life as best they could. In this life though, they met their end in a place such as this, for a reason such as this —which was no reason at all, really— and there’s nothing Adrian can do to change it.

The thought is a dark one, depressing, boring down on him like a mountain. If only they’d believed him, if only they'd stopped to listen…

He shakes his head, refusing to let the thought linger. His skin feels hot with shame and the still hot embers of an anger he thought he had gotten rid of. The more he looks at them, the clearer he remembers the icy rage that had taken hold of him, that had led him to sharpening the stakes and mounting their lifeless bodies on them. He thinks that, in some way, his father still lives on in him, that part of him that’s eager to burn and kill and take revenge and consume. But it never brought him peace. The same way it never brought his father peace.

With a quiet sigh, Adrian reaches in his coat pocket for the rose he had stored there, the one he plucked that morning. The intensity of its crimson colour is stark against the drabness that surrounds it, and Adrian gazes at it for a moment too long. Then, he leans down, and places it upon the ashes on the ground.

He doesn’t know if he can find it in his heart to forgive, perhaps not yet. But he knows it’s what his mother would have wanted.

Belmont’s hand is warm when it falls on his shoulder, and so are Sypha’s fingers when they thread through his own. They stand there for a short while, watching the shadows of the late afternoon sun stretch along the ground.

~

The fire in the hearth of Belmont’s and Sypha’s room crackles merrily, flames licking up the blackened logs. A glass of brandy is in Adrian’s hand, golden, strong and aromatic. As he takes a sip, staring at the flames, Adrian idly wonders how fire is more or less the same wherever you find it, whatever it happens to be burning —plain logs or bodies on stakes— but it somehow feels so different.

Sypha is sprawled on the couch behind him, chatting with Belmont who’s by the liquor cabinet, pouring himself another drink. They all returned to the castle after the deed was done, and Belmont insisted on drinking on the whole thing being over— because of course he would.

“It just seems like a fine opportunity to celebrate,” he says, tipping the mouth of the bottle over his glass. Apparently, it’s one of the finer bottles of brandy he found when snooping around the place, and Adrian can’t disagree. It’s quite good, gliding down his throat like sweet, liquid fire. “You know?”

“Celebrate what, exactly?” Adrian says dryly, still staring at the flames. “We just watched the sad remains of two people that died horrible deaths being swallowed by the fire. A nice fire, all things considered,” he nods at Sypha, “masterfully summoned, but still. Not something worthy of a celebration, if you ask me.”

Belmont laughs and shakes his head. “It’s not the fire that we’re celebrating, you maudlin bastard.” He saunters to the couch, dropping next to Sypha and placing his arm over her shoulders. “It’s the closure. You finally got some closure on the whole thing, did you not? That, and your front door doesn’t scream: Keep out, danger of death anymore.”

“Perhaps it should,” Adrian muses dejectedly. He returns to the couch, sitting on Sypha’s other side.

Sypha slithers just a bit closer to him, her large, crystal blue eyes trained on him. “How are you feeling?”

Adrian lets out a sigh, glancing down at his glass. “I’ve been better,” he says earnestly. “But at the same time... it’s not quite as bad as I thought.”

Part of him knows it’s because Sypha and Belmont are there with him, holding his hand through it, but it’s more than that. It surely is. He had once thought that he wouldn’t have been able to even stomach the sight of Sumi and Taka again, and while that’s partly true, there’s another sliver of… something else rearing its head inside him. It’s almost like regret, almost like the guilt and shame he’s been carrying with him all this while, but it’s different even than that.

“Sometimes,” he says, “I think… I think I understand why they did it. Why they betrayed me, why they attacked, why they were so mistrustful of me. The life they had led left them with no other choice. They only told me a little of what they went through in Cho’s court  —just what was absolutely necessary, I presume— but even from that I could tell that their past was filled with hurt and injustice. I don’t think that anyone’s ever shown them kindness before, or respect.” He takes in a slow breath. “It makes sense, in a way, to bite the hand that feeds, if every other hand extended has held a blade, ready to wound. It’s only logical that they would… hate me. For what I am.”

Belmont clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “There’s always a choice,” he says sharply, with an odd sort of finality. “No matter what your life has been like before. Either one of them could have stood up to the other, told them to knock it off, made them see that you were only trying to help their miserable hides. They could have left this place better and stronger for it, and made the world a better place too. But guess what?” He fixes Adrian with a look that brooks no argument. “They chose not to do that. They chose to be sorry pieces of dung that lash out at every perceived wrong, that punish those that don’t deserve it. They chose, Alucard. Never forget that.”

Adrian returns Belmont’s gaze, and his pulse quickens at the surety and steadiness of his voice, the fury in his eyes.

He swallows thickly.

“I… I’m not sure it’s quite as black and white as that,” he says.

Sypha reaches out to him, placing her hand on his forearm. “They might have had a choice,” she says softly, “yet they left you with none. You couldn’t have helped them any more than you did. You did everything you could. You know that, yes?”

Her touch is so warm and comforting, that it eases his unease, his discomfort. Adrian takes heart from it, and manages a quiet, “I know,” before he falls silent again.

“So, no looking back. Alright?”

He sighs. "Alright."

"Promise?"

“Promise.” He has to smile a little at that. It’s so much like Sypha to give orders, even for something like this. Adrian has little control over what his mind and heart decide to do most days, but it's nice to dream, isn't it?

“Alright!” Belmont exclaims, filling all of their glasses yet again. “A toast then.” He raises his glass to Adrian, cheeks already a bit rosy. “To new beginnings.”

Adrian shakes his head with a laugh and tiredly follows suit. “To new beginnings.” He takes a sip of brandy, letting it warm him from the inside out, as he teases, “Does that mean you’ll start using soap, Belmont?”

“Shut up, Alucard,” the other man rolls his eyes, laughing in his glass.

Adrian turns to look at Sypha, and his smile is met by her grin. She sets her glass on the table and slithers closer to him still, and then her slender arms are around Adrian’s neck, her sweet and heady scent filling him to the brim.

“To new beginnings,” she whispers in his ear.

Adrian sets his glass aside too and hugs her tightly, taking a deep breath.

“Thank you for being here,” he whispers. “Thank you for everything.”

“Thank you for letting us be here,” she says, then leans back to gaze at him. “I can only imagine how hard it was for you.”

Adrian smiles, and prepares to tell her that they didn’t really leave him much choice in the matter, when she leans forward to kiss his forehead. Her lips are soft against his skin, and they send a shiver down his spine. It’s all too reminiscent of that night several days ago in his room, after he had returned to the castle, and he can’t help the beat of anticipation in his blood. She kisses his brow, each one of his eyes, his cheek, the angle of his jaw, cradling his face in her hands. It’s so tender and soft that Adrian almost whimpers with need when her lips skim the side of his neck, leaving him wanting more, infinitely more. He wants this closeness; he needs it.

When her mouth brushes his own, Adrian can’t hold back the sigh that leaves him. His lips part readily under hers, pulling her in before he can stop himself. Her tongue is warm and soft as it flicks over his own, and it tastes of the sweet spice of the brandy.

Adrian bites back a moan when Sypha’s teeth close over his bottom lip, sucking. He shifts closer to her, touch-starved nerves catching fire, his hand finding its way to her lower back. There is heat coiling inside him now, just with Sypha’s lips on him and her arms around his neck, the feel of her body against his.

He draws back abruptly, gulping down a breath as he does. “Sypha,” he croaks.

She blinks back, and her cheeks are flushed, her eyes glistening. Adrian can’t tell if it’s from the drink or their kiss or both, but he suddenly finds it impossible to look away. “Yes?” she asks softly.

Adrian swallows. He darts a glance at Belmont, who is gazing at them both with a sort of hunger in his gaze, his glass forgotten in his hand.

“Are you—” Adrian starts, uncertain what to say. His thoughts are hazy, and his tongue feels too thick in his mouth to form words. He takes a slow breath, and tries again. “Are you alright with this?” he asks him.

Belmont looks at him, a little confused, a small smile playing at the edges of his lips as he says, “Me? Yeah, I’m alright.” He nods at Sypha. “She, on the other hand, is more than alright.”

“Stop it, Trevor,” Sypha laughs, swatting playfully at his shoulder. Her face is bright pink now, but she doesn’t seem at all embarrassed as she leans into Adrian again and reaches out to run her fingers through his hair. “Oh, you’re pretty,” she sighs.

“I— thank you.” Adrian runs his tongue over his lips, trying to get his raging pulse under control. Sypha’s teasing comments over the past few days start to make sense as Adrian plays them again in his head. Adrian has been attracted to her from the start, almost ever since he met her, and the thought that she might be attracted to him sends a sharp thrill through him. Her fingertips, when they caress his scalp, make him shiver, and her breath that skims his skin as she leans in to nuzzle his nose sets the hair at the back of his neck on end. If he were standing, his knees would have surely given way by now.

But Belmont… He is watching them, and there is no jealousy in his gaze, and Adrian isn’t sure what that means. They are a couple, after all, aren’t they? Adrian doesn’t know of many couples that would welcome a third person in their midst so easily, like this.

Come to think of it, he doesn’t know any other couples at all.

He draws back just a little, pulling away from Sypha’s kiss, before his thoughts slip away from him completely.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he tells them, finally finding the courage to speak about what has been troubling him for days. “I wanted to talk to- to both of you.”

Sypha blinks, then raises her brows in question. “About?”

“About this. About you. About… us.” He takes in a breath, mustering his strength. “I like that you’re here. That we’re all together again. There’s nothing I wanted more than to… to be with you again. And now…” His heartbeat soars as the words tangle on his tongue. There is no way to give voice to what he wants the most, his most well-hidden desire. He glances at Sypha, with her clear-sky eyes and her soft lips and even softer hands, and at Belmont, with his dark bangs falling over his eyes, his sharp jaw, his broad chest. The fire that has kindled in Adrian’s core rages, images and sensations flooding his brain until he can barely think, just at the mere sight of them there.

Mad. He is mad, he is out of his mind, he is...

In love.

Damn it.

Adrian takes a breath, his hand gathering into a fist at the realisation.

At that moment, he knows with perfect clarity, and he admits it to himself for the first time: he wants them. He wants them both.

But it is wrong. It is selfish. It is asking too much. They’re his friends and they care about him, certainly, they agreed to stay with him, but this… asking for something like this would be unthinkable. He wouldn’t blame them if they thought him crazy, if they believed he’s lost his mind.

He’s not sure he hasn’t, himself.

“You are both so… important to me,” he says quietly, afraid to meet their gazes. “And I want… I want—”

“Yes.”

Adrian stops, blinks at Sypha. “I beg pardon?”

She returns his gaze calmly, tilting her chin up. “Whatever you were going to ask of us, the answer is: yes.”

“But— but you don’t even know—”

Her lips are on his own before he can say another word. He finds himself melting against her, helplessly, a soft moan escaping him as she deepens the kiss, threading her fingers through his hair to pull him closer. A quick moment later, and she has somehow found herself on his lap, straddling him.

When they part for air, Adrian stares at her, at the curtain of strawberry blond locks that’s falling around her face. “You didn’t even know what I was going to ask,” he tells her, voice hoarse.

She grins. “Trust me, Alucard, I know.” She nods towards Belmont. “Even Trevor knows, and he’s even worse at these things than you are.”

“Hey, that’s not true and you know it.” Belmont laughs, though his face is steadily turning bright red as Adrian’s befuddled gaze falls on him. He gives his head a small shake, then rubs the back of his neck. “I mean, I had an inkling. And… well… I might have given it some thought myself.”

“He has a crush on you,” Sypha tells Adrian conspiratorially.

“I do not! ”

“Yes, he does. Don’t let his antics fool you.”

Belmont groans and rolls his eyes, draining the last of his brandy. “Teenagers have crushes. I am not a teenager.”

“Hm, you’re right,” Sypha says. “Perhaps there’s another word for it. Let’s see…” She leans forward, pressing her forehead to Adrian’s. There’s a mischievous grin widening her lips, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip. “How about ‘lust’? It sounds much more mature, doesn’t it? You’re in lust.” She hums and bites her lip, her eyes alight. “You want him.”

Adrian lets out a shaky breath. His tongue darts out instinctively to lick his lips, and brushes over her finger, momentarily tasting the sweet saltiness of her skin.

“That…” Belmont’s voice trembles only slightly as he speaks, “that sounds about right.”

Adrian can’t help but turn to look at him, startled by his admission. Belmont shrugs and rolls his eyes with a helpless smile. “Don’t let it go to your head, alright?”

“Finally!” Sypha throws her head back and laughs. “Finally he admits it! I never thought I’d see the day.”

“That was meant for you too,” Belmont reprimands, but the bite has thoroughly gone out of his words. His face is red like a pomegranate now.

“You… you want me?” Adrian asks incredulously, his pulse thumping in his throat. Surely, he must have misheard. This can’t be happening.

“We both do.” Sypha reaches down to take his hand, her fingers threading through his. “Do you?” she asks softly.

Adrian gapes at them both, suddenly lost for words. Ever since they met, and even though they’ve both offered him their friendship and affection, he always felt like the third wheel. As if it was just the two of them, and Adrian was always on the outside, looking in. After they’d left the castle, leaving him behind in search of adventure, there were moments Adrian had thought his heart had been broken so thoroughly, that it would never mend again. And now they’re both here, offering him something like this, and… he doesn’t quite know what to say.

There are a million things he wants to tell them, but they all die on his tongue. They want him? Both of them? It seems so hard to believe, that Adrian wonders if he’s dreaming.

Both Belmont and Sypha are watching him now, holding their breaths, and Adrian isn’t sure what to tell them.

He opens his mouth.

“I—” I want you, I missed you, I never stopped, I can’t bear the thought of being without you , I— “I’m—”

Adrian closes his mouth again and swallows, taking in a deep breath.

“Yes,” he whispers, heart beating in his throat. “I do.”

Sypha beams at him, her countenance lighting up. She stands up, still holding his hand. She tugs at it, pulling him to her, and he stands up too.

“I never thought I’d see this day either,” she whispers teasingly, pulling him in for a kiss.

Adrian lets out a quiet, startled laugh, wrapping his arms around her. She’s shorter than he is and he’s looming over her, but she cups his neck and draws him closer to her.

“If I’d known you were such a good kisser, I would have done this sooner,” she says, a soft murmur against his lips. She reaches up to undo the laces of his shirt, and Adrian shivers when he feels the brush of her fingers on his skin.

“You’ve been wanting to do this for— for a while then?” He follows her as she steps backwards towards the bed, tries not to stumble over his own toes. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her how inexperienced he is at this, how little he knows how to act and carry himself with confidence. But something tells him he does not need to.

Sypha grins, pulling his shirt over his head, and proceeds to brush her palms down his chest. Her palms are even softer than he remembers, and he barely even thinks about the scars as she touches them. “You really had no idea, did you?” A soft sigh escapes her as she deepens the kiss, arching into his touch when his own palm skims the line of her spine, the curve of her waist. She feels so small and delicate in his arms.

“Not sure if you’ve noticed, Sypha, but he is kind of slow on the uptake,” Belmont remarks from his spot on the couch, nursing his glass of brandy. His cheeks are still flushed, and he looks vaguely embarrassed, like he doesn’t quite know what to do.

Adrian smirks. “You’re one to talk.”

Belmont scoffs and takes a large sip of his brandy, without offering a rebuttal, and if that isn’t evidence that the man is thoroughly out of his depth then Adrian doesn’t know what is. Sypha glances over at him with a smile.

“Come, Trevor.”

Belmont looks up at them, then at Sypha’s outstretched hand. His throat bobs as he swallows, and he hesitates for a moment before he tosses the rest of his drink up and stands. “I am not slow on the uptake,” he mutters darkly, frowning at them both.

“You may not be,” Adrian tells him, amused, “but your reply was definitely a few seconds too late. That’s so unlike you. Usually, it’s your tongue that moves first before your poor mind can ever catch up.” He tilts his head to the side, and is surprised by the affection that swells in his chest at the sight of him, red-faced and embarrassed and for once incapable of coming up with a scathing comment for practically everything that’s taking place around him.

“Aren’t you going to join us?” Adrian quirks a brow, “Will I have to challenge you to a duel?”

Belmont licks his lips and grumbles something under his breath before he straightens and walks over to them, reluctant yet still somehow eager.

He stands tall before him, his pale blue eyes searching Adrian’s. Adrian would never have expected someone who is so confident on the battlefield to be so timid in a situation like this. He always expected Belmont to be the energetic, brutish sort, the one to grab his mate by the hair and drag them to his lair like a caveman, but he is surprisingly guarded and reserved. It’s almost… adorable.

Or it would have been, had Adrian not been a mess of nerves and emotion himself right then.

Still, there’s something drawing him to Belmont, something that he fight any longer. He takes a tiny step forward, coming to stand before him. “What’s wrong, Belmont?” he asks softly. “Are you afraid of me?”

Belmont scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Am I? I could swear that you’re avoiding meeting my eyes. Why would that be?” He steps closer to him still. “Are you suddenly afraid of vampires now?”

Belmont’s eyes flick to his and stay there, penetrating. “You’re no vampire.”

“Oh?”

“You’re only a half-vampire,” he says, voice dropping low, “and I wouldn’t be afraid of you even if you were.”

“Odd.” Adrian tilts his head to the side, his pulse buzzing with the thrill of the challenge in Belmont’s gaze. There. That’s more like it. “Then why does it look like your tail’s between your legs?”

Belmont puffs up just a little, his bashfulness gone as he leans forward, their noses almost touching. “There’s something else between my legs. Care to find out?”

Adrian licks his lips, meeting his piercing gaze. “Please,” he says, thanking God that his voice is level. “Don’t be so crass. This isn’t a whorehouse.”

“You have a big mouth, Alucard. Pity you don’t know how to use it.”

“There’s plenty of things I know how to do with my mouth. Shutting you up is one of them.”

“Is that the best you can do with it? Because I could swear—”

“Oh, my goodness,” Sypha throws her arms up in exasperation. “Just kiss already!”

Adrian takes a breath, preparing to retort, but Belmont is faster. A strong arm winds around his middle, pulling him closer, and Adrian simply melts against him, like so much clay in his hands. Belmont’s lips are slightly chapped, tasting strongly of brandy, and the scruff of his chin tickles Adrian’s skin. Adrian reaches up as if in a dream, his hand finding its way to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. His skin is so warm , it’s like he’s on fire. And his hand on the small of Adrian’s back, pulling— his chest, hard and taut underneath him, the fabric of his shirt pressing against his bare skin—

Just when he thinks his knees will buckle, he feels Sypha’s hand brushing down his back, her lips skimming the side of his neck. He glances down at her as his and Belmont’s lips part and sees her smiling, rising up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. In his haze, he feels Belmont moving closer, holding him tighter, pressing his mouth to the side of his head, nuzzling his ear.

Adrian closes his eyes, disintegrating into that kiss, those tender touches. He can’t help but think of all those nights he spent alone in this castle, thinking about them, both of them, pretending that he didn’t wish they were still there. He thinks of the drawings he made of them to keep the memory of their faces crisp in his mind, the dolls he kept in the kitchen, those lifeless toys that bore their shape; the only things to keep him company. He remembers the crushing emptiness of all those endless, identical days, and his heart thumps painfully with such intense longing, a craving that’s impossible for him to bear.

They’re both so close to him now, touching him, holding him, and it all suddenly feels too much, far too much. But he doesn’t want this to end. He doesn’t want this moment to end.

“I missed you,” he breathes into his and Sypha’s kiss. He leans back just a little to look at her, and he realises his eyes are stinging. “I missed you both so much. I—” He glances at Belmont, who’s gazing at him with so much warmth and tenderness now that it makes him ache, and the tears he has been trying so hard to hold back escape the confines of his eyes, gliding down his cheeks. “I missed you.”

“We missed you, too,” he says softly. “I missed you.” He reaches up to brush the tears from Adrian’s cheek. “Was there ever any doubt about it?”

Adrian smiles at him through his tears, shivering when Sypha’s arms wrap around his middle.

“We’re here now,” she whispers. “We’re here.”

Adrian sighs as he leans into them both, letting them guide him to bed.

Read the rest on Ao3!

[ratchedspeach]

An Ever Fixed-Mark | READ ON AO3

a quick little character study about everyone’s favorite problematic duo. CW for alcohol and tobacco use. Other than that, angst abound, and not much else. Enjoy!

“I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

“How can you not feel like yourself when you don’t even know who you are?”

It’s a rare, unexpected omission - one which Cordelia Goode had not been prepared for, but her mother, apparently, had. Cordelia doesn’t look at Fiona, her eyes stay trained on a spot on the cement wall. Still, she can feel the smoke spiraling off her cigarette, and the satisfied smirk playing her mother’s features. Cordelia’s thumb worries against an ash leaf, tracing the veins and soft flesh of the plant all the way to its stem.

“I could have done without your opinion, mother.”

Fiona grunts. “Then might I suggest not saying it out loud?” She says, smoke steaming between her teeth like a serpent.

Cordelia’s thumb stops. Ash: strength, power, protector of youth, she thinks. The sapling dies - shrivels and rots in a matter of seconds. Fiona tuts, brushing past her daughter and taking the pot in her hands.

“Oh Delia,” she simpers, “always so dramatic.”

The plant hits the wastebasket with a dull thud. Cordelia thinks it should make her flinch, thinks she should feel anger, or contempt, or goddamnit something, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t, and she knows that should scare her, but it doesn’t, either.

It scares Fiona, though.

Not that she’d ever admit to it - fear is too weak, too fragile an imbalance. No, Fiona will not bend to it. She straightens her back, lips curling into something akin to a snarl as she presses the stub of her cigarette into the soft soil of another pot. Even this offense against her daughter’s most prized possessions does not faze Cordelia; and so it is that Fiona’s hand is forced.

“I need a drink; smells like shit down here.” Fiona mutters, spinning on her heels, before calling over her shoulder. “I’m not gonna drink alone.”

Fiona has never waited for an invitation to open (or finish, for that matter) a bottle of liquor, nor can Cordelia recall a time when she has been invited to join in on her nightly escapade. Were Cordelia more at home in herself, the statement would strike her as uncharacteristic. But she isn’t, and she doesn’t, so instead she merely follows her mother up the stairs into the great hall of the Academy. It’s still bright out: light pools through windows and between the crevices of the front door. Dust speckles and shimmers like snow in the air, but all Cordelia can fathom is that she should add vacuuming to the chore list. Fiona is in the study pulling the cork out of a particularly old bottle of rye; one which Cordelia is certain she’s never seen before.

“Well, are you joining me, or are you just gonna watch?” Fiona snaps as she pours the dark liquid into the second crystal glass.

Cordelia surges into motion, practically sending the whiskey sloshing onto the carpet in the fervency with which she picks it up. She stares at her mother, who stares at her own glass, and bristles under the intentness of her daughter’s pooling eyes. When Fiona finally meets her gaze, she thinks Cordelia looks like a child searching for permission. It’s not an uncommon thought for her to have about her daughter, but it strikes something in her which Fiona doesn’t expect - a sort of warmth that trickles into her stomach and burns. And so they are forced into a stalemate of sorts; each woman uncertain and protecting a secret of their own, each completely dependent on the other for their next move. It will be Fiona who acts first (as it often is), bringing the glass to her lips and swallowing the double shot in a single, unceremonious gulp. Cordelia looks at her own whiskey and licks her lips before following suit. She does not finish it, a fact which she is certain Fiona adds to the ongoing tally of reasons the woman simply could not be her own daughter.

“It’s good.” Cordelia rasps against the burning in her throat.

It isn’t a lie, though. The alcohol, though practically strong enough to make her breath fire, holds a distinct sweetness which she hadn’t expected - a smooth, buttery aftertaste that lingers on the insides of her mouth and coats her throat. She doesn’t hate it, and, well, that’s something.

Fiona pours herself another glass before gliding over to the couch and sitting. “Kentucky Whiskey. Been in this Coven since … Christ, at least since I was a kid.”

“I’ve never seen it before.” Cordelia mumbles, chancing another sip.

“Anna Leigh caught me in the liquor cabinet - yelled at me until the little gargoyle was practically blue in the face; something about finishing a three thousand bottle of tequila.” Cordelia can’t help but giggle. “She charmed the more expensive bottles in the coven’s possession after that. Only the Supreme can access them now.”

“Sounds about right.” Cordelia snorts, bringing the glass level with her eyes and studying its contents.

The whiskey is amber in color: like honey or browned butter. There’s a thickness to it, a richness even in appearance that the younger woman cannot help but marvel at.

“So,” Cordelia smiles, “how many bottles are back there, anyway?”

“Seven, I think. A couple whiskey’s, tequila that’s older than me, cognac, vodka, and a few bottles of wine.”

“Does tequila get better with age?” Cordelia’s brow furrows.

Fiona shrugs, finger tracing the rim of her glass. “Don’t know. We can try that next.”

It’s then that Cordelia realizes she is still standing, and what’s more, that were she to continue, she might topple over from the sheer volume of liquor she was about to consume. She doesn’t dare sit on the couch, Fiona having already claimed that her domain. Instead, she opts for a chair opposite her mother, and perches on the edge.

“You gonna finish that?” Fiona’s eyebrows quirk towards the liquid still sloshing between her daughter’s fingers.

“Hm? Oh, yes, I —“ Cordelia stutters, bringing the whiskey to her lips and swallowing in one fell swoop.

She tries to stifle the cough as the liquor hits her throat. Fiona, on the other hand, does not stifle her laugh. Were it not for the rare quality time that she found herself sharing with Fiona, she might have commented on the crudeness of it. Cordelia’s cheeks redden, and she holds her tongue.

“We should really go to a bar.” Cordelia scolds, mostly at herself. “I don’t know that it’s right for the headmistress to be drinking on school grounds … especially with Madison -“

“Oh Christ, Delia, you don’t really still believe she’s sober, do you? I raised you better than that”

“I … what?”

Fiona rolls her eyes, pulling a pack of half-empty cigarettes out of the inside pocket of her leather jacket. She taps the carton in the palm of her hand. “That girl is about as sober as I am.”

Cordelia’s shoulder’s tense. “How would you know? Mother, you’re never here.”

“I’m the Supreme, Delia.” You’re a drunk, is what you are. “I don’t need to be here to know that this place is falling apart at the seams.”

Cordelia catches her lower lip between her teeth in order to bite back the vitriol threatening to spill off of her tongue. Fiona takes the opportunity to light her cigarette. When she inhales, the stuttering burn of tobacco seems to mock Cordelia. Foolish girl, blind, stupid child.

“Madison Montgomery has been sober for one —“

“Day? Hour?” Fiona teases.

“One month, two weeks, and twenty-four days.” Cordelia finishes with atypical confidence.

Fiona glares at her daughter for a moment, cigarette perched between her fingers. “Alright, Cordelia. Whatever you say.”

Cordelia huffs, leaning back in her chair like a petulant child. “And to think, we were starting to have a nice time, too.”

“Speak for yourself.” Fiona dabs the cigarette on the mahogany coffee table, before huffing a sigh. “Fine, if you’re so keen on getting out of here, I’ll drive —“

“No. Jesus, no. You win. We can stay.”

Fiona smirks. “Thought so.” She pours them both another drink.

Typical Delia, she thinks, always so focused on the rules. Sometimes, Fiona wonders if her daughter understands the definition of the word ‘witch’. If she does, Cordelia does little in the way of using such a gift to her advantage. I’m not drunk anyhow. And even if she was, Fiona could think of at least four ways to remedy the situation that would take little more than a flick of her tongue, or an inhale to the right part of her ribcage.

“Why are you here, Fiona?”

She isn’t shocked by the question. Christ, if anything, she’s confused why it took so long for Cordelia to ask. Still, Fiona ponders it, if for nothing else then dramatic effect. It’s true, she had shown up at Miss Robichaux’s Academy that morning unannounced. But she was the Supreme, goddamnit, who said she needed a reason to show up to her own coven?

“Why are you, Delia?” Fiona counters.

Cordelia, for her part, sets her jaw. Her cheeks tinge red, as do the rims of her practically black eyes. She pinches the skin of her left palm. She blames herself for even considering that she could get a straight answer out of her mother.

“Because you aren’t.”

Fiona rolls her eyes. “I am now.”

Cordelia shakes her head, frustration rising like bile in her throat. “But you won’t be. Not forever. This is just a blip.” And an unwelcome one, at that.

“Christ’s sake, Delia, what do you want from me?”

“I want an answer. An honest one. Why are you here?”

Fiona gives her daughter a knowing look - the kind Cordelia has seen so many times before - the kind she’s come to expect and loath. Whatever comes out of her mouth next, Cordelia knows it won’t be the truth. Not entirely at least.

“To see you.”

And oh Cordelia doesn’t mean to laugh, but she can’t help herself. It’s just too … too potently underhanded. So she does: she laughs, and hard, at that. So hard that she has to put her glass down. So hard that she thinks she might pass out. So hard that she doesn’t even realize when she starts to cry.

But cry isn’t really the right word for it.

She’s sobbing — sobbing in earnest, and she can’t stop herself. So she buckles at the waist instead, and rests her forehead on her knees, and lets herself get lost. She’s not sure why she’s crying, but Cordelia can’t help but feel a little relieved, because at least she’s not numb anymore.

Fiona pours herself one more double shot, then puts the rye back in the cabinet. She doesn’t touch Cordelia - doesn’t dare give any omission that she know she’s done this to her daughter. Yes, she has, she’s done this, and it's not the first time. Probably not the last, either. Instead she just waits for Cordelia’s wails to reduce to low whimpers, and for her back to straighter, and her hands to wipe a trail of mascara across her cheekbones.

Then, and only then, does Fiona speak: “Some headmistress.”

“You’re lying to me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Cordelia snarls amidst the bile rising in her throat. “You’re lying.”

Fiona scoffs: “Honestly, Delia, you’re so paranoid.”

“You aren’t here to see me. Torment me, maybe, but not see me.”

And, well, Fiona can’t argue with that. She’s not here to see her daughter. If she’s being honest with herself, she’s not sure why she’s here. To run away, maybe. To ignore her imminent death (which she still has not mentioned to Cordelia). To remind herself of where she came from — of who and what made her; and part of that puzzle is Cordelia.

It always comes back to Cordelia, doesn’t it?

“Fuck it, I’m going to bed.” Cordelia staggers on her feet.

She hadn’t realized she was drunk; the alcohol must’ve been waiting for her to exhale fully before it took effect. She has to use the banister to ascend the first flight of stairs. Her vision wobbles, her tongue is dry against her teeth. When she gets to the first landing, she stops. And there, silhouetted by the moon, Fiona sees the angel of death in her daughter.

“Do you remember the sonnet you used to read to me?”

Maybe it’s the slur in Cordelia’s voice, the promise of alcohol keeping this part of her daughter’s memory locked away, but Fiona nods. She thinks she might even smile a little.

“Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Sonnet 116.”

Cordelia’s tongue darts across her upper lip, and she mumbles something under her breath, before adding: “Your room is made up if you plan on staying the night.”

“It is?”

There’s a pause — a deafening silence. Cordelia glares at her mother in somber resignation. “It always is.”

She ascends with her back straight and a sobriety that Fiona had not expected. Maybe she really was her daughter, after all.

“Love is not love …” Fiona says to herself, eyes trained on the fading outline of her daughter.

Her palms shake. She reaches for another cigarette.

[girlofmanyfandoms]

You Get What You Give

A/n: This is to half-apologize for the back to back angst yesterday. Special thanks to @a-lonely-tatertot for beta-reading!

Warnings: Della is about to blow your minds

Word count: 2,620

Tag list: Tag list:  @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @bookwyrminspiration @holesinmyfalseconfidence @percabetn @an-absolute-travesty @linhammon-roll-bromance101 @linhamon-roll @ anyone who cares

_________

Alden burst out of his office and headed straight to Everglen’s gate without a word to any of the other Vacker’s present. Fitz and Biana only glanced up for a moment before returning to their breakfast, chatting to each other idly without acknowledgement of the outburst. Della sighed exhaustedly, and quickly wrapped up a lunch for him, rushing to give him it. She barely caught him before he reached the gateway, grabbing his shoulder to stop him.

“Alden, dear,” Della forced herself to say. Her teeth were gritted, but she managed to fake a pleasant smile. “You left your lunch. If you’re going to be gone all day, you’ll need some food to keep you going.”

“Ah, yes, about that-“

“Are you not returning?” Della attempted to hide her giddiness, before realizing what her previous sentence implied. “Soon, I mean.”

“No, I’m afraid not, the Council wants me to check in with Queen Hylda,” Alden huffed, taking the food from her, and not meeting her eyes. He seemed bored with the conversation and opened the gates, closing them rather harshly in Della’s face. “See you later, dear,” he called as he walked away and pulled out his leaping crystal. In a flash, he was gone; Della was ready.

She pinched herself to make sure what had gone on before her wasn’t some fever dream. Clapping her hands excitedly, she skipped back into the house, humming a melodic tune. Fitz and Biana looked at her oddly for a moment but brushed it off as Della being Della. She winced a bit, realizing that she still had the children to navigate around. But being a Vanisher has its pros, and Della decided to use them now, heels gilding up the stairs silently. She climbed up to the 4th level, crouching at Alden’s bedroom door. Of course, he had his own room. Alden had never shown much affection unless it benefited him.

“Should’ve married Alina, bastard,” Della spat bitterly, pulling out a bobby pin and unlocking his door. She pulled on a pair of fresh silk gloves and kicked open the door. There could be no trace of what had happened leading back to her. But where to start? Della ruffled through his nightstand before she found something cold that felt like a thin metal box. Her fingers wrapped around it instantly, and as she pulled it out, she realized it was a lighter. Della smirked to herself, these had been banned at the same time Pyrokinesis had been banned. Even the Councillors weren’t allowed to have them, much less Emissaries.

Quickly, she pulled all of his clothes out of the closet, organizing them into one neat pile for her to burn in a moment. But if she wanted to truly frame him, she needed to raid his office. But first things first. Della grabbed the golden plaque that rested on his dresser, it was given to him when he was given the title of Emissary. Tossing it gently in her hands, she tested its weight.

“Perfect,” she grinned. Della eyed the windows on either side of his bed. They took up the entire wall, allowing for plenty of natural light. Propping the plaque up in her hands like a baseball bat, she swung it back and forth, gaining speed and force before crashing it into the left window, breaking it. She laughed maniacally, doing the same to the other window. Della shifted through the drawers under his bed for more, finding a dagger, a seemingly new burner phone, and a stack of American dollars. The door creaked open, but Della was too busy slashing the curtains to notice. She spun around with the shreds in glee, but this came to an abrupt stop when she saw Fitz hiding behind the slightly opened door, with Biana undoubtedly vanished behind him.

Della attempted to hide her findings behind her back, but a cool breeze reminded her of the rather open concept of the room.

“Mom,” Fitz started, feeling he was treading on dangerous grounds. “W-what are you doing?”

“Um.” Della sank slowly onto Alden’s bed, hands resting in her lap. She couldn’t say she regretted it. No, she was practically euphoric when causing all the chaos. What she regretted was the fact that her children had seen her recklessness. “Have a seat over here, Fitz. You, too, Biana.”

Biana revealed herself and followed Fitz into the room. Fitz sat rather stiffly next to his mother, but Biana was comfortably sprawled across the other side of the bed. They all sat their quietly for a moment, Della trying to find the right way to put this.

“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, your father tends to have ulterior motives in his actions,” Della began.

Fitz scoffed, “You can say that again.” Biana nodded in agreement.

Della looked up a bit. Maybe this conversation wouldn’t be as difficult as she had imagined. “For years, I haven’t appreciated how your father has been treating all of us. I begged him not to send you to the Forbidden Cities, Fitz. You were a child, and your father sent you into a world that was strictly off-limits to our society. He forced you to do something intensely illegal, and he put your life at risk for what? This girl he called special, that would change the world. This girl who he would be praised for finding because it would save the elven race. Now, I love Sophie, she’s a charming girl. I’m glad that you found her because that made us all who we are today. But that doesn’t make what he did any better.”

Della reached for Fitz’s hands, and he accepted. His mother’s hands were warm, though that might have been from holding the lighter. But her hold was gentle. Loving. Understanding. And that’s what mattered to Fitz. “You tried, Mom,” Fitz said, his voice cracking a bit from the effort it took to hold back the tears. “You tried. You did more than he ever did.”

“But it wasn’t enough.” Della’s cobalt eyes met his teal ones. Filled with tears that didn’t quite have the energy to spill. “I should’ve fought more. When he pushed me, I should’ve pushed back. I let him step all over me, I let him neglect you, I let him emotionally abuse us all. I can’t undo what’s been done, but I can try to stop it from happening again.”

She turned to face Biana, who was now sitting up, shoulders slouched. Della opened her arms for a hug, and Biana rushed into them, sobbing deeply into the crook of her mother’s neck. Della played her hair softly, swaying back and forth. “I’m so sorry, Biana. I’m sorry you’ve been in the shadows of everyone else for so long. You’re so strong, you deserve to be acknowledged for your accomplishments.” Della motioned Fitz to join the hug, and he did, in an attempt to hide the silent tears cascading down his face. It didn’t work, and he wrapped an arm around his sister, joining in her crying. Della rubbed circles on their backs, holding them just like she should have all along.

It felt like years had passed, though it was probably only a half-hour when they had finally dried out. They held each other for a moment before sitting back again.

“I feel so... light,” Biana pondered aloud. “Or maybe free is the word.”

“We’ll be free when your father comes back.”

Biana perked up. “Are you-“

“Yes,” Della scratched at her neck nervously. “I’m filing for a match fail.”                                                                                                                                                                  

“I don’t know how to feel about that,” Biana admitted, pulling on her fingers to crack them. “I mean, he deserves it, and it’s the right thing to do but... he’s still our dad.”

“Blood makes up your genetics, your family is those who are there to support you,” Della advised. “He isn’t there for us, or you.”

“But we are.” Fitz wrapped an arm around Biana, and she leaned on his shoulder. “Now, what do you say we prepare a special surprise for him when he gets back?”

Della raised her eyebrow, to which Fitz responded with a shrug. “He won’t be living here anymore. Might as well prepare for renovations.”

Biana grinned mischievously. “I have some ideas. But first, let me call Dex, so he can be on the lookout. I’m sure he can cause a distraction with his alchemy skills if D-, er, Alden, returns.”

Della knew she was supposed to be the responsible one, but after a lifetime of mistreatment, a little fun wouldn’t hurt anyone. “Biana, you do that, then take over for me in this room. Fitz, break the wedding china in the cabinet downstairs but be careful not to cut yourself. I’ll take his office.”

They nodded and departed to their stations. Fitz reached the room at superhuman speeds, as Della could hear the smashing of china and porcelain by the time she had left the room. She tested the doorknob, and, surprisingly, it had been left unlocked. He must have forgotten to lock it in his haste. She nudged it open and staggered backward in shock.

His office was a mess, with papers strewn across the floor. Two of the three chairs in the room were turned over, and a strange electrical humming sound was coming from the corner of the room. Della followed the noise, leading to a silver plate by the side of the aquarium. Blue wires spilled out of the wall, some cut and lying dead by the entrance, other plugged in and resting on the floor in coils, producing the humming sound.

Della went cold in panic, a theory forming in her mind. She felt the cords in her hands, following their trail all the way to the aquarium’s tank. The animals, they were fake! Powered by this cord in the wall.

“But why would Alden leave it here in the open? It’s not like him,” Della murmured to herself.

“Good question, Della,” a feminine voice called from behind her. “Too bad you won’t be around long enough to find out.” Della tried to move, but the voice was so entrancing, she couldn’t do more than blink. She was fixed in place, and not a muscle could move. The person took their time, pacing through the room before putting Alden’s office chair upright and resting in it. They were just out of her eye range, though through her peripherals it was as clear as day who it was: Alina.

“You know, you’re a smart girl, just not smart enough. If you were, you wouldn't have stayed with Alden this long.” Alina got up suddenly, standing behind Della. With her right hand, she held a melder to her head, and with the other, she straightened Della’s choker for her. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll take the children and leave and you will not say a word. Understand?”

Della knew she couldn’t keep Alina talking, and she frantically tried to come up with ideas to escape when she heard a loud creak in the floorboards. Alina spun her around, not trusting that she wouldn’t try something while her back was turned. The door was open.

“One of the children escaped,” Alina scoffed, before turning to her captive, smirking. “Well, I guess that gives me one way to send a message.”

It all clicked in Della’s mind. Alden’s rush to leave, how easily she was able to break into his bedroom, his mess of a room, and the recordings that had gone on for who knows how many years. And it all came back to Alina. Beguilers were never to be trusted. Della was so caught up in her genius, she nearly missed the blatant threat. And that’s what pushed her over the edge.

The next moment happened, quite literally, in flashes. Della broke out of her trance, blinking in and out of sight. She slammed Alden office chair into Alina, crashing her into the aquarium. Biana revealed herself and, grabbing a stray cord, tied Alina up. Alina opened her mouth to use her ability, but a slightly disoriented Dex came bursting in, pouring an elixir down her throat, pinching her nose so she would swallow. She choked down the syrup and yelled curses at the group.

Della held the cords in a tight knot. “Where’s Fitz?”

“Still tied up downstairs,” Dex informed her. “I tried to get him out, but he insisted I go after Biana.” Dex rubbed his jaw. “She can throw a punch!”

“I’ll get him, “ Biana volunteered. “Dex, you call your Council contacts, tell them to come here immediately.”

He nodded, and they went to work. Della picked up one of the “fish.” If they were cameras, they would come in handy for evidence.

Alina gulped but held her head up defiantly. “What do you think you’re going to do to me?”

Della smirked. “I’m going to get you to talk.”

_______________

Clarette and Noland, Dex’s Council contacts, arrived first, but Bronte was right on their heels, steam rising from his pointy ears.

Dex shrank back a bit, but Bronte put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “You’re not the one at fault, child. Where’s Alina?”

“Ms. Vacker has her restricted upstairs,” Dex told him. “She’s gathered loads of evidence to help you at her tribunal.”

Bronte raised an eyebrow. “And what of the Vacker children?”

“Fitz and Biana are in the kitchen, applying some balm to the skin that got damaged by the rope constraints.”

Bronte whispered something to Noland, who nodded and went to meet Della.

Clarette crossed her arms. “Is there something I should know?”

“Yes, call Emery, tell him to schedule a tribunal for Alina,” Bronte directed. “And tell him we’ll be needing a new Emissary.”

Clarette furrowed her brows but did as he asked, pulling out her Imparter and walking to the side. In just moments, Emery arrived, not seeming to be very happy about being summoned.

“So you call me on a case of a treacherous Councillor and one of our most trusted Emissaries deviating without any evidence, dear Bronte? I’m disappointed.”

“I think you’ll find that Ms. Vacker has that figured out.”

“The child?” Emery scoffed. “I thought you knew better than to place your trust in children.”

“I was referring to Radelle,” Bronte corrected. “She is filing for a match fail due to the double-life her husband has been leading, which you will find out all about once you listen to her. Make haste, I’m sure Alina won’t enjoy waiting.”

Emery’s jaw tightened, but because he didn’t want to cause a scene, so he followed Noland’s path into Alden’s office.

______________

“So, I’m sure you understand how this all correlates,” Della finished.

Emery was speechless. Oralie, who, along with the rest of the Council, had arrived in time to hear Della’s speech, smiled proudly at her. “I agree with Della, but let’s take a vote. Shall we, Emery?”

“Ten in favor of Della, two against,” Emery stated after a moment of Telepathic discussion.

“Well, in that case, I believe we should start planning ahead,” Bronte began. “We’ll require only one joint-tribunal, but we are short of one Councillor and one Emissary. I have a very clear suggestion for a candidate for the latter. That is if Ms. Vacker would be willing.”

Della laughed, more out of shock and disbelief than ridicule. She paused to consider this. She didn’t want her children to face neglect again. And she certainly didn’t want to become the monster that Alden had become.

But for the first time in her life, Della felt strong. Empowered. And she was not going to let that feeling go anytime soon.

“Sign me up.”

[cilldaracailin]

A Kind Of Magic

Here is some more of the story. Thanks again for all the love :)

11

“The four most beautiful words in our common language: I told you so.”

“So, this is where I am pulling my ‘I am older than you card and you need to listen to your elders’. I will not take no for an answer.”

“Robyn seriously…”

“No Taron. I have seen you cringe more times than I am comfortable with and though you have tried to hide it you failed. I see everything. I have eyes on the back of my head. Even with the pain killers, you are still really sore. This will help you.”

The two stood in Robyn’s bathroom, Robyn with her arms folded across her chest as she insisted that Taron took a bath in her tub but he was having none of it.

Their afternoon had been perfect. The music had changed to musical and Broadway classics and both had enjoyed sharing stories of Westend and Broadway shows they had seen, Robyn explaining to Taron that Dublin had its own Westend style theatre now and she was able to go and see more shows. Taron loved hearing that Robyn was actively involved in the local musical society and had even been in a few shows over the years, taking on roles such as Scaramouche from We Will Rock You and Cinderella from Into the Woods.

After sitting for the whole afternoon, Taron decided it was time to re-hydrate but really struggled to get off the sun lounder without a groan and Robyn had to help him up, Taron leaning on her for a moment until he could catch his breathe.

“Taron, you ok?”

“Just feeling a little extra tender today. I slept on my right-side last night and I am feeling it.”

“Yeah I can see that. Been watching you struggle all day.”

“I think I get so relaxed that I forget and my body can’t keep up with my head.” He stood up straight, wincing again. “I think I just need to move a little.”

“That is the opposite of what you need. Your body needs to rest. The pain is its way of telling you that you have been through the runner and you need to do nothing but rest. Yes, sleeping on those bruises has not helped but I know something that will help.”

She had walked with him, her arm around his waist into the bathroom and Taron had flat out refused when she suggested he took a bath.

“Let me make the deal a little sweeter.” She said as she uncrossed her arms. “You love my rainfall shower, right? You told me yourself, it gave you a wonderful back massage.” Taron slighted nodded. “The bath does the same thing. It has those little massage jets you get in hydrotherapy baths. You are so pent up with tension. Anything that you had let go has come back tenfold since you woke but not because you mentally feel shit, but because your body feels shit. We need to do something that is going to loosen you up before you lay back down again to sleep. Otherwise when you get up tomorrow, you are going to be so stiff, it will hurt ten times more and you physically won’t be able to move at all.”

“I hate you; you know that?” Said Taron as he leant against the sink, his eyes avoiding hers because he couldn’t bear to see the kindness in her eyes, compassion that was purely for him and his well-being and health.

“I love you too.”

“You are too skilled at using your words for persuasion.”

“Why thank you Taron. So, I will take that as a yes then? You can play Bowie again?” Robyn moved to stand in front of him at the sink. “The heat from the water will just ease your muscles, like a giant heating pad and the water jets will help to knead out those kinks you feel. I will wrap your arm up so it’s waterproof and you can fully sink into the water. I will even add bubbles and I have these amazing Epson salt crystals that work like a dream.”

Because Taron could not say no to Robyn, he found himself submerged in the most superb bath he had ever had been in before. He wasn’t a bath person, preferring to shower but Robyn was quickly converting him. He had watched as she turned on the taps, letting the water flow into the bath, steam filling the bathroom quickly. She dug out a white bag from the cabinet under the sink and poured two cups of the muscle relaxer salts evenly through the bath, her own hand swirling through the water to make sure they dissolved properly, then adding some bubbles.

“Scent free,” She confirmed when she saw his nose squish up in protest.

She had shown him how to turn on the jets of water, pushing the buttons to increase or decrease the pressure and speed of the bubbles.

“I mostly sit in a chair all day, staring at a computer screen and my back, especially my lower back, aches after a week. I told you I wanted a deep bath and the shop was doing this deal on these special baths so for the same price I could get one and I did. Trust me, it works wonders on tender muscles.”

Taron was so thankful for Robyn in so many ways and he just added a new one to his list. She had carefully wrapped his arm in some plastic bags, making sure it was air tight so he could take full advantage of dunking his whole body under the water and it was heaven. It hurt to actually get into the bath and lowering his wounded body into the warm water stung until he got used to it. He accidently put the jets on full blast at first and that made him hiss in protest but once he found a setting that worked on every part of his body, his groans of pain turned to moans of delight. It was so much more than Robyn’s shower and he sunk further into the water so his chin was covered in bubbles, closed his eyes and all he needed now was two hands on his head, slowly massaging his scalp to be fully emerged in complete and utter relaxation. He was willing to this every day even if Robyn didn’t ask him too and moving his body a little so the water wasn’t so hard on the bruises on the back, he sighed happily. He could already feel the tension leaving him and he lowered himself as far as was possible into the bubbles.

While Taron soaked in the bath, Robyn had started on making some dinner for them, a simple salad with some chicken and sweet potato wedges. She was thrilled that Taron had given into her and accepted that he was struggling with the pain, willing to give her idea a go. A warm bubble bath would work wonders for his broken body. She had very much enjoyed their day of getting to know each other and sharing stories between them, once again adoring how his easy laugh filled his lungs, his hands going to his eyes as he giggled almost relentlessly but she hated how he felt the need to hide the real pain he was in. He did the same in the 7/11 and it wasn’t until he was almost unconscious lying on her lap, that he showed the extent of the hurt he felt. Robyn didn’t want Taron to get to that stage again. When she had left him sleeping, he was still on his back but he must have shifted to his right side himself so she could completely understand why he was feeling more tender but Robyn didn’t want Taron to be quietly suffering. She knew the warm bath would give him much needed relief and help to ease his developing ache.

After prepping the chicken and sweet potato and putting them in the oven on a low heat, she chopped up lots of different salads, putting them in a large bowl and back into the fridge for when they were ready to eat. Robyn then decided that she really needed to sort out the washing she had just left in the basket earlier that morning too so she pulled her case out onto the kitchen floor and took all the dirty laundry out, sorted it and then put the first load of colours on. She left everything else unpacked in the case. She still wasn’t ready to sort through it all but was happy to be finally dealing with the washing that was overdue.

As their dinner baked in the oven, Robyn resumed her place on the couch in her corner with her laptop typing away, finishing off the polices for work she had started yesterday while Taron was still asleep. When he was finished taking the all the time he needed to laze in the soothing bath, she was going to take a shower to wash off the suncream and dust from sitting outside all afternoon but while she waited, she was going to use her time to get some work done. Once she had opened the document she wanted to concentrate on, she found the words on the screen blurry so she walked to her room and routed out her glasses from the drawer of the bedside locker. She didn’t need them all the time, but when her eyes were tired it helped the sharpen the words she needed to read.

Settling back on her couch, Robyn began to type, completely lost in her work with only a vague idea of how much time had passed until she felt the couch sink beside her, Taron carefully resting his chin on her bare shoulder, throwing his legs up onto the poof as before, watching her.

“I don’t hate you anymore.” He said sleepily, giving her shoulder a little kiss before laying his chin back down on her warm skin, which smelt like coconuts from the suncream they had used. “I very much love you and your house and your garden and your fucking wonderfully cosy couch, your incredible bath and you in glasses!”

Robyn smiled as she pulled the black frames from her face looking down at him. “You feeling any better?” He had changed into another pair of navy shorts and a dark blue short sleeved shirt which he hadn’t bothered to button up, his hair was still damp and he didn’t cringe as much when he sat down on the couch beside her.

“A lot. Still hurts but I can move much easier.” He took her glasses from her hand. “Not in our twenty questions, the subject of glasses.”

“I only need them in the evenings, if I feel tired or the words are hard to read.”

“I have a pair too. Pretty much the same reason.” He gave them back to her. “Thank you Robyn. You always know what I need even if I don’t realise that I need it. That bath was exactly what I needed. I can feel a difference already.”

“You are very welcome and it is there for whenever you need it. You don’t have to ask. Feeling hungry?” She felt him nod. “Dinners on. Shouldn’t be too long. You want to do my work for me while I shower?”

Grinning Taron took her glasses back and carefully put them on. “Tell me what I need to do.” He moved so she could get up and took her seat in the corner, letting her place her computer on his lap.

“Finish writing that policy for me on why we should have used a stronger suncream factor on you. Your nose is sunburnt.”

Taron looked up to her over the frames of her glasses. “Really?”

“Just a little bit.” She gently touched his nose. “You got some nice colour on your face.”

He took her glasses of and left them on the couch beside him. “Do I see some new freckles on yours?”

“Probably. I don’t have that typical pale Irish skin though I do get my share of freckles in the sun.”

“They’re cute. I like them.”

“I don’t mind them. I’m not one of those who feels the need to cover their freckles.”

“It adds character.” Replied Taron. “Do you mind if I check my email while I sit here.”

“No of course not. Work away. I won’t be too long.” She went to walk away but stopped. “Can you pull this dressing off for me?” She sat down beside him with her back facing him and Taron carefully pulled the tape and the dressing off her shoulder. “Thank you.” She took the dressing from him and walked around the island to drop it in the bin, checking the oven before heading to the bathroom through the closet, grabbing two clean towels along the way. Taron had left it clean and tidy after his bath, once again putting the towels his used back on the towel warmer. The mirror was still fogged over with condensation and she noticed the addition of his wash bag to her bathroom counter tops, his razor sitting on top. The little touches of seeing his things in her apartment made her smile.

She pulled the plastic bobbins from the end of her plaits and shook her hair out, her now dry hair settled in a crazy wave. “Ugh no.” She stripped and threw her clothes and Taron’s used towels into the second wicker laundry basket she had in the bathroom and waited for the shower to heat up before she stepped in. She adored the water pressure that fell from her shower and it worked just as good as her bath after a stressful day at work and although she was not stressed, she just stood for a little while, the water beating down the back of neck, which still was a tiny bit tender from the candle that fell in the 7/11 but not too the point where she couldn’t enjoy the manipulation of the water. She then washed her hair quickly and turned the water off, grabbing the towel she brought in with her, wrapped it around her tightly, her hair going into the smaller one.

She stepped into her closet and routed out a pair of sky-blue shorts and a white t-shirt, glad she had put a wash on because she was running out of summer clothes to wear. Towel drying her hair first, she blasted it with the hairdryer. Robyn could dry her hair straight in less than five minutes and after doing so, she got dressed and headed back out to the kitchen. Taron was on his phone, her laptop still on his knee, so she checked on their food, both the chicken and sweet potatoes done. She pulled out the bowl of salad she had made earlier and grabbed the two plates from the press. She dished out the chicken which she had flavoured with garlic and chilli flakes and then the crispy sweet potatoes. Turning back to the fridge she selected the bottle of iced tea, not knowing if Taron liked iced tea but she was definitely going to have a glass.

“What smells so good?” Asked Taron as he came to stand at the island, closing the middle button on his shirt as he walked over.

“Chicken. Iced tea?” She showed him the peach flavour she had.

“Yes please. Thanks for letting me use your computer.”

“Any time.” Robyn poured the iced tea into two glasses. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah it was just Matthew.”

“The director from the film you were working on?”

“Yeah Kingsman. He had already tried to call me but I missed the call and my brain is still a bit mush and I haven’t called him back so he just called me again to make sure I was ok and to give me the revised schedule for filming.”

“Shit this whole mess fucks that up for you.”

“Nah not really. Matthew has sorted it. I mean under the circumstances there isn’t much they can do. I’m not going to be running around with a gun doing forward rolls over a car any time soon. We’re just going to pick up where we left off in two months, round the start of November.”

“Doesn’t that clash with whatever else you may have been planning to work on next?”

“Actually no. I was planning on taking a little bit of time off after I finished filming Kingsman at the end of October to spend at home before Christmas so it actually has worked out ok for me.”

“Sucks for your time off though.”

“Well I mean I am getting my time off now and I will get a break during filming for Christmas and New Year’s too so it won’t be too bad. Matthew has insisted. He wants to make sure I am fully fit before getting back into it and he also wanted to talk to you but I explained you were currently indecent, unavailable and in the nudey nudes.” Taron’s eyes sparkled as he winked at Robyn. “He really wanted to speak to you, has done since he came to see me in the hospital. Just to say thanks for what you did for me. I have a feeling I am going to be getting a lot of these phone calls.”

Robyn took some knives and forks from the drawer behind her. “It’s a lot of information for your friends and family to hear and understand so it’s natural they would want to talk to both of us and learn what happened.”

“I have already had to explain what happened to my mam and Matthew and I am tired of it already.”

“People just care about you Taron and they want to make sure you are ok.”

“Yeah I know but it’s hard to talk it constantly. I honestly hate being reminded about it.”

Robyn reached over and took his hand. “Me too but unfortunately, it is something that we are going to have talk about a lot and more so you, especially when you are back working and promoting your films. Unless your publicist can stop that from happening, it will be following you but it will get easier as time goes on. It’s hard because it is will very raw for us. It was only a week ago Taron. Give it some time. It’s why you and me need this time together too. We have to figure it out before we can really help others to understand it.” Taron nodded. “We are doing good so, far aren’t we? We haven’t killed each other; we get on really well and we have each other’s back.”

Taron smiled. “Yeah we do.”

“Time is our friend and food. Ready for dinner?”

“Always.”

Robyn laughed. “Do you want to eat outside again?”

“Yes please. I like it out in the garden.”

Together they carried their dinner out, Taron bringing his pain killers with him to take with his food and took their usual seats, another peaceful meal between them.

“How did you get here?” Asked Robyn as she took up her familiar position of legs tucked under her, glass in her hand.

“Airplane?” Answered Taron slowly.

“No no!” Laughed Robyn. “Sorry I didn’t explain myself well. I mean here, to Kilcreen.”

“Oh right. Bus. Two buses. I went to the bus station in Dublin, bus something or other.”

“Busáras.” Said Robyn.

“Yeah there and then got a bus here. The one one five.”

“Yep that sounds about right.”

“The lady at the tourist information said I could get a train but she explained the bus first and it sounded easier.”

“Definitely easier. The train station is a little bit of a walk from the bus station in Dublin.”

“I called into the hairdressers opposite the bus stop and the ladies in there told me how to get to you. Wrote down the instructions and drew me a map.”

“Ok so it wasn’t too hard for you.”

“No, it was actually easy enough. The heat killed me when I arrived and I think I was just so tired too that it seemed somewhat of a chore.”

“Just your typical Irish heat wave.” Smiled Robyn. “Definitely not what you expected when you arrived here. Kilcreen is in a good location for public transport though. We have a bus and train line and are right beside the motorway so have many travel options and it’s handy being so close to Dublin too. Not that I go in very often.”

“But you work here, so no travel for you.”

“Thank goodness. I would hate to be stuck in traffic for hours in the morning. I can just get up and go.”

Taron drained the last of his drink. “I think it’s my turn to cook tomorrow. You have been so good at me keeping me fed.”

“Like I said this morning, I make for one, it’s just as easy to make for two.”

“Maybe but I want too.”

“Well I won’t say no.”

“Good.”

Once again, they worked together to clean up, Robyn closing all the glass doors when they were finished as the sun began to set on the day. Knowing that her washing was finished too, she quickly hung it out on the clothes line to the side of her house, firmly telling Taron he wasn’t helping her. He had just spent the time relaxing his muscles, he didn’t need to strain them again to hang out her clothes. She also tidied away her laptop and made sure her glasses were back in their case. When she came back from her room, Taron had already made himself comfortable in the corner of the couch, giving her a smirk. “Sharing is caring.” He said simply but held up one of the dressings for his arm. “You mind?”

“Not at all.”

After Robyn had wrapped Taron’s arm, he returned the favour for her. “What are you in the mood for?” Asked Robyn getting up from the couch and walking over to the DVD’s beside the television. They had decided on a movie night after dinner, using the couch as their base for the next few hours. Taron joined her and looked sideways at the titles. “They are in alphabetically order, if that helps.”

“The Wedding Singer. I haven’t watched this one in years. This one.” Taron pulled the DVD out.

“Great choice. One of my favourites.” Robyn took it from him and loaded it into the side of the television. She pulled the curtains closed, made sure the air conditioning was also on, keeping the room cool. Taron closed the blinds in the kitchen and met Robyn at the couch, Robyn letting him take the corner, sitting right beside him. She started the movie and as the opening song began, Taron automatically put his arm around her shoulder. It was comfort he enjoyed and as Robyn leant into him, he knew she craved the cosiness too. It came down to the fact that it was a security both needed from each other, Taron knew he wouldn’t be sitting where he was if it wasn’t for Robyn and Robyn was relieved that her actions had returned nothing but positive outcomes.

[xmarveled]

Issues

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s got issues and so does Y/N. They might be the only ones who get what each other is going though.

Request: Requested by this hoe @xxstarwalker. Can you write a Bucky oneshot where he just escaped Hydra and is having trouble dealing with his trauma and PTSD, which causes him to lash out unexpectedly? And he scares the team and they kinda judge him for it, but you’ve been through something similar and you’re the only one who understands him?

Warnings: Violence.

A/N: This fic is based off the song Issues by Julia Michaels. I’d suggest that you listen to it while reading this. Thanks for all the love you guys have shown me during my short time here!! ^^

There was the sound of shattered glass and a scream pierced the air. Wanda’s. Than, there was the sound of half of a dozen footsteps rushing towards the kitchen, where the sounds came from. I dash down the hallway, almost colliding headfirst into Sam, who had a towel around his waist. I eyed him before sprinting the way I was originally headed. I entered the kitchen, Sam at my heels, before freezing where I stood as I took in the scene.

Wanda was shaking like a leaf as Vision wrapped his arms protectively around her. The rest of the team stood around the room in a similar state as me and Sam, as if we were in a movie and someone just pressed pause. Tony, Bruce and Nat stood on the side of the room, while Thor and Rhodey stood frozen in the entryway. And Bucky... Bucky was crouched in the center of the room, surrounded by pieces of glass which used to be our kitchen table. The look in his eyes as he stared at Wanda was one of fear, not of Wanda, but of himself. His hands clenched and unclenched around thin air as he opened his mouth, trying to think of something to say.

“What did you do to her?” demanded Vision. Wanda pointed a shaky finger at Bucky. “He-he tried to kill me.”

Bucky’s head shot up and he trembled almost harder than Wanda as he said “I-It was, it was an accident.”

“Liar!” cried Wanda. “I saw you! You were trying to throw the table on me!”

“No I swear! I would-I would never try to hurt you, to hurt anyone here.” said Bucky. He cast pleading eyes around the room and after a minute, they landed on me. The other Avengers shifted on their feet, casting uneasy glances between Bucky and Wanda. No one knew who to believe.

“You monster.” said Vision with something close to a snarl on his face. “They told us you had changed, that you weren’t that-that demon you used to be. Yet you come here and you try, you dare to hurt one of us.”

At this point, Bucky’s head was down and his shoulders were slumped in a position of defeat that I knew so well. He was accepting everything Vision was saying. No, not accepting, he was agreeing with him.

“After everything you’ve done.” Vision continued. “After the thousands you killed-“

“Enough.”

Everyone except Bucky turned and looked at me.

“He has changed Vision. That monster wasn’t him, it was forced into him.”

Bucky looked up at me for a second, with something like gratitude shining in his eyes before looking back down.

“He attacked Wanda.” said Vision.

“It could have been an accident.” I say.

“You’d trust his word over Wanda’s?” demanded Vision.

“I don’t trust anyone’s word. I just think that it’s important to see all sides before making a decision.”

“You see what he has done?” Vision gestured to the wrecked kitchen. “He clearly attempted to hurt Wanda, maybe even kill her and you’d believe a killer’s word over your teammate’s?”

Something in my chest went cold at his words. I slowly walked up to where he and Wanda were still huddled and stopped right in front of him. “Don’t forget Vision, that I’m a killer. That everyone in this room, including your precious Wanda, is a killer. And what the hell happened to “innocent before proven guilty!?”

Even with all the intelligence in the world at his disposal, Vision had nothing to say back. I turned and walked to where Bucky was still hunched over. Only this time when he looked at me, there was a kind of quiet marvel in his eyes.

I offer a hand to him and wordlessly, he takes it.

But you don't judge me

'Cause if you did, baby, I would judge you too

No, you don't judge me

'Cause you see it from same point of view

I take him to my room, the only place we’d be safe from the prying eyes. He sat on the bed as I shuffled though cabinets, searching for my first aid kit. I take out the bandages, and start wrapping them around his injured palm despite knowing that he’d recover without them.

I finished and was about to stand up when he finally said something.

“Why?”

I look out to find him staring at me with the full force of those crystal blue eyes.

“Why what?”

“Why... why did you defend me?”

“Because...” I hesitate, but I still say it. “Because I know what it feels like, to think that I’m a worthless scrap of existence, to believe that I’ve become the monster that they forced inside me.”

I swallow, before continuing. “That’s why I couldn’t just stand there and watch as a Vision hurled insult after insult at you, when he didn’t even know the slightest of what you’ve been through.”

“Everything-everything, he said was true though.” said Bucky. “Especially the part about the monsters.”

“Maybe, but does it matter? Aren’t we all monsters in our own ways?” I say.

He didn’t reply, but just continued to stare at me like I was the key to the door inside his heart that hasn’t been open for a hundred years.

I felt color raise in my cheeks as the silence went on. Finally, I asked “what”?

“I’ve-I’ve just never had someone stand up for me like that.” He said, stumbling over his words a little. “I’ve never met someone who understood, what it feels like, to be feared, to be hated, to have children run from you on the streets.” The sheer emotion in his voice made something crack in my chest.

We looked at each other, unshead tears in both our eyes from the pain and the anger that we’ve been through. Neither of us had to say anything, because we both knew.

'Cause I got issues

But you got 'em too

So give 'em all to me

And I'll give mine to you

Bask in the glory

Of all our problems

'Cause we got the kind of love

It takes to solve 'em

And when he bent down to brush his lips softly against mine, I didn’t hesitate to push him back onto the bed and tangle my hands through his soft, beautiful hair. The kiss felt like coming home after a century of loneliness.

As we lay in the bed, bodies entwined around each other’s, I thought that maybe we’be both got issues, but as long as we had each other, nothing else mattered.

Yeah, I got issues

And one of them is how bad I need you

Taglist: @xxstarwalker @bxcksdoll

Message me or leave a comment below if you want to be on the taglist!

[another-stupid-writing-blog]

Healer’s Den Revisited

You, Xoknath and Ronan burst into Nesrinn’s hut, catching her off guard as she moves supplies out of a cabinet in the back and onto a pile to her right. You clutch your stomach from the pain this infection has given you.  

NESRINN: [Whoa! What’s wrong?]  

XOKNATH: [SHE’S INFECTED WITH THE ZOMBIE VIRUS! SHE HASN’T TURNED YET, BUT SHE NEEDS HELP, QUICK!]  

Nesrinn remains far calmer than Xoknath, but still appears serious as she replies.  

NESRINN: [Okay. Lie her down on the bed, I know just what to do.]  

Xoknath brings you over to the bed, and you lie down.  

-----------------------------------------------------------------  

As your character lies down, you see the screen flash, as if you are still taking damage. This is a cutscene. You aren’t actually moving your character. Surely, you can’t still be taking damage at this point, right?  

---------------------------------------------------------------  

Nesrinn pulls a clay bottle out of the cabinet, pops the lid off, and brings it over to your face.  

NESRINN: [Drink this. It’ll slow down the harm while I mix something up real quick.]  

You grab the bottle and gulp the potion down. You feel the pain from earlier start to numb, but you still feel like the virus is causing harm you can’t perceive yet.  

Nesrinn puts on a glove and takes a Spirit Crystal out of the cabinet, before dropping it into a nearby mortar. You immediately get up and try to run, but Xoknath pushes you back onto the bed.  

XOKNATH: SIT!  

NESRINN: [Restrain her!]  

Xoknath keeps you pinned while Ronan straps your arms down. You start kicking, so they strap down your legs as well. Meanwhile, Nesrinn uses a pestle to grind up the crystal, then pours water and sugar into the bowl. Without any heat source, the water bubbles, and she begins stirring. The Spirit Crystal dust and the sugar both melt, turning the water a dark blue. She pours this blue potion into another bottle, and brings it towards you. You turn your face away, but Ronan turns your head back over to her.  

NESRINN: [I know you’re scared, but please understand. This illness is a living thing, and we need to kill it before it reaches your brain. This is the only treatment that’s worked before. I’d give you something more for the pain, but nothing will make much difference, short of knocking you out entirely. You need to be awake in order to swallow.]  

With that, she force-feeds you the potion. Your energy drains. Your mouth and throat begin to burn just as intently as your wounds did. Coughing and wheezing, you look up to her for help, and she obliges, giving you some cold sugar water. The pain is soothed slightly, and you regain some energy, only to scream in agony as the potion pools in the pit of your stomach.   A spoon enters your mouth and an unknown substance covers your tongue. You become very dizzy and lightheaded. Your vision fades, and you fall asleep.  

------------------------------------------------------------------  

The cutscene continues as your avatar lays there.  

Nesrinn goes back to the cabinet and pulls out a syringe, slowly injecting it into Alexis’s arm as she sleeps.  

------------------------------------------------------  

XOKNATH: [IF YOU GET A MOMENT, MAY I BORROW SOME CREATION STONE? THERE’S A DRYAD THAT NEEDS HELP AT THE INTERSECTION.]  

RONAN: …  

NESRINN: [Oh, the human’s just fine, thanks for asking. She’ll be up in just a few days. Your concern is so admirable.]  

XOKNATH: [OH, TRUST ME, I DON’T GIVE A SHIT. I’LL KEEP HER ALIVE AS LONG AS I CAN, BUT I WON’T SHED A SINGLE TEAR IF SHE GETS HERSELF KILLED. ANY CONCERN I’VE SHOWN SO FAR IS FOR YITRIE’S SAKE.]  

RONAN: …!  

XOKNATH: [I DO STILL NEED THAT STONE, THOUGH. THE DRYAD HAS DONE NOTHING WRONG, AND I PASS BY THEM, LIKE, EVERY DAY.]  

NESRINN: [Oh. Shit. I thought you meant, like, for summoning items, I didn’t know they were injured.]  

She points to a shelf on the other side of the room.  

NESRINN: [Creation Stones are over there. Go ahead.]  

XOKNATH: [THANKS!]  

Xoknath goes over to the shelf and picks up a green rod with a leather-wrapped handle.  

Xoknath got the CREATION ROD! With this, a real magic user may cast CREATION SPELLS, but any party member can spend 1 MP to heal 2 HP.  

NESRINN: [Hurry over and help them out, but please return that to me when you’re done, okay?]  

XOKNATH: [HAVE I EVER NOT RETURNED SOMETHING?]  

NESRINN: [Yeah, I know you’re good for it. I say that with everyone. Just a new policy I have, ‘cause not everyone I’ve trusted has actually remembered to hold up their end of the deal.]  

XOKNATH: [YEAH, I GET IT. PEACE!]  

-------------------------------------------------------------------   The cutscene ends.   You are now controlling Xoknath!  

-----------------------------------------------------------------   You take Alexis’s bag and walk out of the building. 

Yitrie’s Court Revisited

Link to First Page

[peaches-of-1]

BTS with a Crystal/Plant Witch S/O

Non gender specific reader

Mentions of the “occult”

General witchy stuff

Mstrlst in bio

Jin

He was wondering where all the rosemary went when he was making dinner. The chef knew it was in this cabinet. That’s where it always was. You come into the kitchen wondering what has got your bf all frustrated. “What are you looking for?” You ask.

“The rosemary. It was right--”

“I used it...for my cleansing water. I’ve been super forgetful lately, and it helps with memory. Sorry, I should’ve asked first.” You blushed.

He sighed, “It’s fine. I’ll just have to go to the store real quick. Keep your eye on the water, but don’t add anything to it like you did last time. I know you’re new at this, but we can’t afford food poisoning again.” He grabbed his jacket and kissed your forehead before leaving his pouty lover in the living room.

Suga

Although he was in his studio, he called you to meet him outside the door. You wondered if he saw your gift or not. Maybe your boyfriend was gonna thank you in person and give you kisses because he knew how much you adored his kiss. Then when you knocked, he opened it and placed your blue scapolite into your hand.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t leave your rocks in my studio. Wait, why are you tearing up?”

You sniffled, “I got this for you. You’ve been having such a hard time creating music, so I wanted to help you focus better. I’m sorry if you didn’t--”

Then he hugged you, “No. No. No. Thank you. I just don’t know a lot about this stuff and you leave it around everywhere, so I’ll cherish this one.” He kissed your lips. “Please don’t cry.”

J-Hope

You were worried about your boyfriend because he was super anxious about this first comeback after service. He was a perfectionist when it came to his art of dance, and it was difficult for him to get back into the rhythm. So he was stressed and anxious all the time now. This wasn’t the Hobi you knew. There was something you had to do for the man you loved, so you mad him a necklace out of rose quartz and slipped it around his neck. He grabbed the stone resting on his chest.

“It’s to help ease your anxiety about the comeback.” You said, sitting on his lap. “You’ve just gotten back and you’re putting so much pressure on yourself. Just take your time, ok?”

Hobi smiled, “Gosh, I’m so glad I decided not to judge you and fell in love with you instead. When you said you were into witchcraft, I gotta admit, I got worried that you were going to hex me or something.”

You laughed and kissed him, “You’re the one who put a love spell on me by just being yourself.”

RM

It was a pretty new relationship and totally by accident. He was just on a walk and then found saw flowering vines on your balcony. Even though he had a shy nature, he knocked on the door of a stranger and saw the most beautiful plant filled living space he had ever seen. The person who answered seemed like they were glittering while being covered in dirt. You were shocked to see an idol at your doorstep. Of course you welcomed him in and gave him the tour of your plants. He kept staring at your lithops.

“These stones have flowers on them.” He said. “How?”

“They aren’t stone. They’re the plant itself. Do you want some? I’ve been doing research on them, but haven’t found much. Might create its powers for myself.” You said.

Namjoon tilted his head, “Powers?”

“I’m a plant witch. It’s a non gendered term despite what the media says.” you replied expecting him to run or freak out.

Instead he grabbed your hands, “Tell me more?”

Jimin

It was his first time at your place because he wanted to see what his s/o’s living area looked like ever since you told him you actually believed in the crystal stuff his non idol friends were laughing at last time. Your cat was hungry, so you went to go feed her while Jimin made himself comfortable. It would only take a minute. He looked around and noticed a cube a something gold.

When you came back, you noticed him scratching his neck and asked about it.

“I was fine until I touched that thing.” He said.

“It’s pyrite. It helps boost confidence and makes one more assertive. Some call it a warrior stone, but you seem to be having a bad reaction to it. I’ll go put it away and then we can do some cleansing to make you feel better. It’s simple, so it should be fine.”

“Should be?” he asked, but nothing in witchcraft was 100%.

V

“I know you’re hungry, but don’t eat any of my plants that are on the counter.”You said knowing how curious he was. It wasn’t your fault your flip flop decided to break as soon as you left the house. So you two had to turn around and let you put on new shoes. The ones you wanted weren’t near the door though.

However, V was a rebel and tried a purple looking flower since it sort of looked like candy. He started coughing and you hurried back into the living room. You got him to puke in the sink and gave him your go to elixer.

“When I...bleh...when I calm down. Can we please, please eat something?” He asked.

You wanted to fight him. He was so cute and precious but you wanted to fight him. You sighed and played with his hair. “Of course.”

Jungkook

He was asking you all sorts of questions about your lifestyle now that you had shown him your “office” of sorts. Plants hung around everywhere and crystals sat in every windowsill. You did your best to answer saying that you had tried everything at least twice and these were the two types of witchcraft that spoke the most to you. He got so excited with everything you were telling him and then reached out for some black berries while you were searching for something to help his insomnia.

You turned around and smacked it out of his hand, “That’s nightshade, you adorable idiot! It’ll kill you! Don’t touch anything!!!!”

Kookie pointed to the pot. It was labeled sleep. You moved a leaf out of the way, and now the pot said “Eternal Sleep” he was a surprised Pikachu. Both of you decided it was best if he stayed in the living room.

[renegadesrpg]

Dark Angels: Creation, Part 12 - Grace. Zav and Bryn

Zav: --Giving the area a last look around, I step into the old church and stand behind her. –

Damn, woman, you brought the whole thing. That expended a lot of energy. You know, you could have just brought the important tools and materialized the furniture and raw materials from closer by. It wouldn’t have taken as much out of you. Bryn: “I wanted my own things. I know the herbs were cut at the right time of the moon and a consecrated athame was used. I know the crystals have already been purified.”

And I wanted to keep the last connection to the one who’d helped me furnish the cavern, made the tables and cabinets and taught me so much. But I wasn’t about to say that out loud.

“Besides, it all comes from somewhere. We don’t just “make it” out of thin air. Sin might be powerful enough to do it, but when we do, it comes from somewhere.” Zav: --with a shrug, I look the place over and pick out a corner near the front with good natural light— That may be, but I figure with the risks we take, we earn it. When I materialize stuff, I picture it from a catalogue or someplace I’ve seen it on sale and get it from there. --That I generally find a way to compensate wherever I got it from goes without saying. Unlike the Horseman, Sin recruited honorable souls. Or in my case angels. Walking to the corner I’d scoped out…— This is good. It’s got good light. It’s open to your work area so I can be near if you need me, and vice versa, and I can see the door. We’ll ward the rest of the place against anyone, reaper, demon, angel or any other creature except through that door. --The shop… damn, I’m going to have to let some of my local people know I survived after this is all over. Dragon for one. And what if it made national news? What if Truely saw it? Panic spurts through my brain. What if she thinks I’m dead? What if she turns to someone else before I can get there…? No, no, no….I’m going to find her number and call her just as soon as I get this set up.— I think the chair right hear near the 10 foot tall leaded glass windows. And there are outlets in the wall along the back…. – When Sin had renovated he’d had this place wired for electricity and had installed generators too. After all, drug lords needed electricity to process product and they wouldn’t want the amount of energy used to alert any Polícia Federal. And I’m sure the local police were getting regular bribes from him as well. It would be expected. Sin made it a policy when dealing with humans to /always/ do the expected. Well, meeting those expectations worked for us too. Bryn was used to conjuring her own light in that cave she’d worked in, but I’d needed electric power to run my shop and I’d need it here too. Thinking back to a catalog I’d looked through a couple of weeks ago, I materialize a set I’d looked at. Tattoo chair with an adjustable head rest and arms and hydraulic control to raise and lower it, an artist chair, and a rolling tray. I look at the back wall and materialize a counter I’d seen there and then extra ink, pots, an autoclave and gauze and wrap from the same catalog the chair had come from on top of it. Later, I’d tally up the totals and move some money into the company accounts. Dropping my backpack on the counter, I turn to Bryn...— Ok, let’s get this show on the road. Where do you want me? Bryn: While Zav had been building his workspace I’d done basic anti-demon warding. He’d have to show me the symbols and spell for keeping out angels and reapers later, but for now we were safe. “Why don’t you lay down on your new handy dandy reclining tattoo chair?” While he moved to it, I unwrapped my ritual athame from it’s soft leather bindings and examined the edge. Sharper was better for skin. Less painful. The edge gleamed in the sunlight and drew blood as I ran my thumb along it lightly. “Perfect.” Zav: --eyeing her with the knife—You know what you’re doing with that thing? How to cut me to get enough without bleeding me dry? Bryn: Laughing, “Don’t be a sissy. You’re not the first ‘blood’ donor I’ve worked with, although you are the first grace donor. But it has to work the same and you’ll heal faster than humans. I’m going to slice along your arm and hold it pointing to the ground while your grace drains into a bowl. You’ve explained the magick of making a grace stone and once we’ve done this I’ll do a small one as a test. I won’t take more than I need.” Zav: Take /more/ than you think you’ll need. I’ll recover faster than if you have to cut me twice. And if you have extra make grace stones for you, Sean and Adrian, too. You won’t be able to handle as much as Sin, but a little in a stone will make you faster and sharpen your senses. –shrugging— It can’t hurt. If we had the time I’d ask you to put some in the protection bracelet you’re making for the fighters, but we don’t. So instead I’m going to add a few drops to the ink when I do the protection tats. Bryn: Frowning down at him as I stretch his arm out on the chair’s armrest. “Just don’t be a hero, ok? Your grace will regenerate but we don’t need you down for days. Let me know when to stop.” He nods in agreement, but I’ve known this guy too long. I’ll have to watch the cues. Taking the athame in hand, I draw it vertically along his arm, laying open the radial artery. I’d never take this risk with a human, no matter how powerful. They’d bleed out too fast. I’d have gone for the cephalic vein. Slower flowing and quicker clotting. But I was counting on reaper healing to make sure that didn’t happen to Zav. Shimmering blue liquid began to flow and I quickly move his arm off the chair’s armrest and squat on the floor holding it over a deep bowl. It runs down his arm and over his fingers in a stream. “You doing all right up there Romeo?” Zav: --I grunted as she made a long deep slice in my forearm. It’s funny how that same injury in the heat of battle is numb but sitting here, knowing what she’s going to do, it hurts like a bitch. – I’m fine. Let it flow little witch. You’re just sad because it isn’t real blood. Bryn: “Ok, I take that as an insult. And it’s never a good idea to insult the lady with the knife.” The truth is, I /have/ done blood magick before. It’s ancient and powerful and the more powerful the subject, the stronger the magick and the less you needed. Which is why I usually used my own, but there had been times when I’d needed volunteer donors. And I always used volunteers only. Anybody that has to kill somebody to get enough blood for the spell is either an amature or not using powerful enough blood. Shifter’s were good, as were vampires, other mages, fae and phoenix. All those beings’ blood had earth magick that blended nicely with my own. Zav’s grace, though, is a different story. Grace is empyreal, coming from the Creator of both the divine and the earth. He’d made empyreal magick and earth magick each unique in their powers, and they weren’t made to mesh. That’s why the white god had gone apeshit when the Gregori had fallen in love with humans and chosen to have children with them. The children had grace, yes, but they also had a soul and the soul is at the essence of earth magick. If one of those chosen by the Grigori had been a being of power, their children would have been a threat to the white god’s view of himself as top of the heap. So he’d had them killed. All of them. Grigori, their human mates, children, infants, babes in the womb...it hadn’t mattered so long as it was bloody and violent and sent the message to other angels what happened when you broke the white god’s rules. Not that I’d been around to see this, mind you. But Sin had, and he’d shown it to us when he formed our cadre so we would understand how dangerous an enemy the white god was. And –frowning at this thought,- once I completed the grace stone Sin was going to use it combined with his own human soul and reaper magick to bring down the Horseman. It was going to make him very, very powerful. I’ve got to wonder if that isn’t going to draw some unwelcome attention, but –mentally sighing- one disaster at a time. Zav: --snorting a laugh – You’d never hurt me. You love me and you know it. --As the iridescent blue fluid begins to flow my I turn my mind back to Truely, trying to ignore the sensation of my grace flowing down my arm. It isn’t the same as a mortal’s perception of blood flowing on their skin would be. Blood is warm and sticky, but grace is cool and slick. Everywhere it touches it tingles like sparks flaring. It was the raw magick in it, the power, the essence of life. And I can feel that essence seeping out of me. It’s like I’m falling backwards into a black velvet night. Fighting against the darkness, I twist my head to look down at her and force a cocky note in my voice— We about done here? I got a woman I need to call. Bryn: The deep bowl is nearly half full, with what I estimate is at least 2 pints. In a human I’d have stopped well before this, but I needed everything Zav could give for this to work. Glancing up at his question, I start to pop off a smartass response, but I pause. The skin under his tan is pale and he has sweat beading on his upper lip. He should have said something, dammit. His body is smarter than he is, though. The slice on his arm is already closing up on the ends, the flow of grace slowing naturally. “I think we’re done here, Romeo.” Standing, I reach my hand out and call the gauze from his counter to me. Lifting his arm, I lay it on the chair armrest and bind the wound to stop the ooze. “Gotta love reaper physiology. In a few hours that will be healed and, so long as you don’t head to the coast for an ocean dip, you won’t even have a scar.” Zav: --Swinging my legs over the edge of the reclined chair, I sit up. And almost immediately grab the edges of it as the world sways.— Bryn: “Hey, watch it big guy!” Grabbing his arm to steady him... “I really don’t think you want me to tell Sean and Adrian that you broke your nose falling on your face after losing a little grace. They’d never let you live it down. C’mon, lay back down in the chair for a while.” Carefully easing him back down on the reclined tattoo chair. Zav: --muttering as I ease back onto the chair— Fuck it. Hand my the phone in my backpack, will you? Bryn: Sighing, I grab his backpack from the floor beside his counter and rummage through the pockets until I find his cellphone. Turning back to him, I hold it up in the air. “You get this on one condition. You don’t try to leave that chair for the next two hours and if you need anything, you don’t try to materialize it yourself. You ask. I need you to be up and alert when I start on the grace stone. You taught me the magick, but I want you there if I need back up. And don’t worry, it doesn’t hold anything up. I’ll do the wards and start on the bracelets to the protect our forces from the trap. I just need you to send me the warding against angels and reapers. Demons are done already.” Zav: --raising my head in a mock glare — Tyrant. Give a person a little power and next thing you know they’re telling you what to do. -- with a sigh, I rest my head back on the padded head rest. The truth is, I probably couldn’t walk six feet right now, let alone swing a sword, so her plan’s good. Mentally I open to here and visualize the symbols in the order she’ll need them.-- Everywhere but the main doorway. I noticed there’s a place for a bar on the inside of the double doors that can be used to barricade the doors. The church must have initially served as a last ditch sanctuary against indigenous peoples when the land was being colonized and the brackets were left when the church was turned into a ballroom. Find the bar and put them on it. That way we can bar the door while we’re working and not have to be on high alert all the time. Now give me the damned phone. Bryn: Leave it to Zav to come up with that. After he’d become a reaper, the only way he’d really used his angel’s magick was to protect. He’d become an expert in defensive protocols using empyreal magicks and he’d studied strategy. Definitely our cadre’s go-to guy for this. The images he sends to me mentally are slender, and some are intricately drawn, but I’ve got an ediectic memory so I’m good to go. “Got it.” Zav: Leave no more than an arm’s span between them and repeat them in a line around the walls, on the ceiling and on the floor. And Bryn?” -- Lifting my head to look at her with a grin, because I’m about to get some of my own back.— It needs to be in blood. --laughing as she gives me a death stare and easily catching the phone she throws at my head.— Bryn: “FINE!” Zav: --Smirking as she walks off to take care of it, I settle back on the chair and Google “Truly Good Sweet Treats” in Pascoe on my phone, only to have it correct me on the spelling. Even though Sin’s pretty dismissive of technology, I’m grateful to it at the moment. The correct spelling of her name, Truely Goode, would have taken me a few minutes to puzzle out. Google had a website for Truely Goode Sweet Treats, and hallelujah, the website had a phone number! I punch it in and take a deep breath as it rings.— Hello? Can I speak to Truely, please?

[seajellyfishie]

Closer *Naruto Fanfiction*

Chapter 1: Blackened Colors

~Author's Pov~

The raven-haired male groaned in dissatisfaction as the sun aroused him from his sleep. He let out a quick huff and rose in his bed to a sitting position. Pushing his messy hair out of the way, he tossed his feet over the bed and slipped his feet into his slippers. Standing he walked over and pushed the sliding door away greeting his bright apartment with a glare. The Uchiha strode over to his kitchen and grabbed eggs from the fridge. Setting the frying pan on the stove he lit it the gas stove with a simple flicker of fire. Grabbing a piece of bread he placed it in the toaster and pushed the little lever down before turning his attention back to the now sizzling frying pan. Cracking the eggs in the pan, he left them as they were so he could have sunny side up eggs and walked over to the cabinets to grab a glass and plate. The male finishes his breakfast preparation and slides into a seat at his table. He prepares to eat when a loud knock on his door interrupts him.

He pulled an annoyed face and growled slightly before standing and shuffling over to the door. He unlocked it and swung it open revealing a white-haired male that looked to be around his age standing in the doorway. The light silverette smirked at his friend's annoyance his aqua green eyes floating in mischief.

"What do you want Sho?" The raven-haired male asked, annoyance lacing his voice.

"I just wanted to walk with you to school Take, is that so wrong." Take gave Sho a blank look before proceeding to slam the door in his face. Sho quickly reacted and stuck his foot between the door and the from. The 13-year-old academy student let out his and glared at Take. Placing his hand on the door he forced it open without much resistance from Take who was already heading back to his food.

"That was a bit rude don't you think, Takeshi?" Sho asked glaring at the Uchiha. Takeshi looked up from eating a piece of bacon hanging out of his mouth.

"If that was rude you've done a lot worse, Shoko," Takeshi answered. Shoko let out a huff and sat across from the boy in front of him. Pushing the little quarrel aside Shoko placed his elbows on the table and held his face in his hands.

"So what's the progress of the Uzumaki Clan research." Takeshi gulped down the last of his milk and let out a refreshed sigh and stared at the ceiling. The deep blue-eyed child let out a hum. He'd been researching the infamous blonde's clan as much as he could. He knew that he wasn't a full-blooded Uzumaki because even those with basic knowledge of clans would know that the Uzumaki's were known for their bright red hair. Takeshi directed his gaze back to his best friend.

"It's actually finished." A surprised noise came from Shoko's throat. Takeshi held up his hand to stop any other words escaping his mouth. Takeshi continued, "Even so, it had a lot of stuff packed into the small sections. That was either in the library or in the Hokage's vault. First off they were a formerly prominent clan of the Land of Whirlpools also known as Uzushiogakure." The raven stood from his seat and walked over to a bookshelf of his and took out a scroll and rolled it out on his coffee table. Shoko followed and looked over the map from a standing position. Takeshi pointed to a small island to the east of the Land of Fire.

"That's where they used to be until they were wiped out in the Fourth Shinobi World War. They moved here to Konohagakure and after the Warring States Period the Senju, who were distant blood relatives to them, decided to put their crest of the flak jackets that we still use today. The Uzumaki gave Konoha their mastery of Fūinjutsu and helped out whenever they could. By the way, Shoko, have I told you about those letters between my mom and her best friend?" The silverette looked a bit stunned at the question. He knew it was rare that Takeshi talks about his family since everything that's happened to him, but he supposed he couldn't say much himself.

"Uh, yeah, why?"

"Her best friend was Kushina Uzumaki. Sometimes when my mom wrote it seems she would speak of Kushina's hair. The reply letters always said something about a man named Minato and how he loved the woman's long red hair. By the way, the only Minato I know is Minato Namikaze. So, if we put two and two together-"

"Naruto is the Fourth Hokage's son and one of the last remaining Uzumaki." Takeshi looked up at his friend and smirked. He stood and walked over to his bedroom and pulled out his drawer. He pulled out his clothes, setting them on his bed he grabbed a leather notebook that already had many tabs with different clan symbols on them. The last ones in it the Uchiha and Uzumaki. Slapping the book into Shoko's hand, the silverette turned it in his hands and placed his thumb on the iron seal. He forced chakra into it and the seal unlocked. Flipping through the book he glanced at the words that were in black and white like the world around him until he landed on the newly created tab.

"Read that as I get ready and we walk to school. You'll understand after." Shoko simply nodded as he was already immersed in the research his friend had done. Takeshi dipped back into his room and got dressed leaving the band that was supposed to be on his left arm off so he could place his forehead protector on. Leaving the room he headed straight for his door, hearing footsteps behind him. Holding the door open for Shoko as he stepped out. Takeshi chuckled slightly and lead Shoko by the hand through the street. He glanced at the females around them who giggled and pointed at the two who walked down the street.

"We gonna have to pretend again?" Shoko asked I could hear the smirk in his voice. I glared back at him saying nothing before leading him into a pole. The aqua green-eyed male smacked into the pole with a grunt. Takeshi smirked at Shoko.

"Maybe you should think before mouthing off, sweetheart," Takeshi said before leaving him behind. Shoko whined and followed with a pout.

~At The Ninja Academy, Iruka's Classroom, 8:30 AM~

Takeshi rested his head against the window on the far left side of the room. His brother, Sasuke, was already there sitting in the very middle with his usual brooding look. When the elder Uchiha entered the younger glared harshly. Shoko, knowing their relationship, quietly dragged the raven over to a window seat. The two boys could hear the girls whisper and talk about them all around.

"Look at that! Shoko still hasn't let go of Takeshi's hand! Blackened Colors really is a thing!" One said louder than the others. The girls around them squealed as quietly as possible (which wasn't very quiet mind you) making the two boys flinch in response. Shoko sighed and removed his hand and glanced up at the sky. He saw a falcon and shivered slightly as the bird's look was boring into his very soul. Letting out a burst of soft nervous laughter he stood and handed Takeshi back his book, letting it lock as he did. The Uchiha sprung a bit from the sudden movement as he was just falling asleep. Shoko chuckled again, this time more genuinely, and patted Takeshi's head.

He gave the book back and watched as Takeshi slipped it into a pocket on his pants. The Uchiha smiled at him as Sho leaned down to whisper in his ear. Takeshi tilted his head slightly to hear better over the incessant squealing that wouldn't stop.

"The Hokage has summoned me, so I'll be going." The silverette stood as Takeshi nodded and walked out of the room leaving Takeshi alone. Letting out a heavy sigh, Takeshi laid his back against the window, his legs sprawled out onto the rest of the bench and his head resting snuggly on his shoulder. He started to fall asleep until he heard the rumbling of what one would call a stampede. He groaned softly and looked over at the door as it slammed open to show Ino and Sakura. Rolling his eyes, he settled back into his position. Takeshi started slipping into slumber even with the loudness of the two females. Ino and Sakura threw their childish names back and forth before Ino let out a loud laugh.

"Ya know what Sakura, you can sit next to Sasuke-kun, I found something better!" The platinum blonde boasted. Through his sleepiness, Takeshi opened his eyes to see Ino walking over to him. The male smiled and opened his arms. Ino brightened and crawled onto the bench and settled into his arms with a content sigh. Many shrieks were heard from such a show of boldness.

"Just like you to be cheating on Sasuke-kun, Ino-Pig!" Ino lazily looked over to the pinkette and rose her eyebrow.

"I gave up on Sasuke a while ago Billboard Brow. I'd rather have someone who actually acknowledges me and gives me some attention rather than brooding all the time." Takeshi snorted and tightened his grip on the Yamanaka. Ino smirked at Sakura's slack has and what seemed to be Sasuke's anger. The girl turned away and nuzzled her face back into Takeshi's very warm chest. The two ignored the class's shock and started to slowly fall asleep focusing on the other's heartbeat or breath.

~Shoko Utsunomiya's Pov~

I jumped into the Hokage's office through the window. I smiled at the old man as I looked at the Jonin and the leader. The Hokage returned my smile and went back to looking at the orb which Sasuke's picture form was being shown until it switched over to Takeshi.

"Most promising new students Takeshi and Sasuke Uchiha. Is that them?" Kakashi asked. I squeezed my way between Kurenai and Asuma to look at the orb as well. Asuma placed a hand on my head. I turned to look at him and simply sent me a smile.

"Yes, that's them." The Hokage answered.

"They're the only survivor left from the Uchiha Clan," Kurenai said more to herself rather than to anyone else.

"That's right." The Hokage answered. I glanced around the room of Jonin and rolled my eyes. These people were so boring. Removing myself from between the two soon-to-be-senseis and in front of the crystal ball, I watched as another girl got into a fight with Sakura about who'll sit next to Sasuke.

"Ya know, Takeshi showed me some interesting stuff today about the Uzumaki Clan," I said catching everyone's attention. The Hokage's eyes widened and he sighed before letting out a soft laugh.

"He's too curious for his own good. He must be getting better at concealing himself." I grinned and nodded before looking back down at the ball. I watched as Naruto was shoved by another guy and pushed into Sasuke making the two kiss. Snorting a bit I shook my head and looked up at the Hokage.

"I thought it was interesting that he was Minato's and Kushina's son. Now that I think about it, Naru-chan has a striking resemblance to the Fourth. Minato-sama must've given Naruto Kushina-sama's last name so the Uzumaki Clan could live on. What a nice guy huh? I would've loved to meet him, along with his Nine-Tailed friend." I said staring straight at the Hokage. The old man was shocked at the information I so easily divulged.

"Ya know, Naruto isn't the person to hate the village, but I think keeping this from him is wrong. Even so, if you tell him now or later on I don't think he'll betray this village. I mean, I would be mad if my whole past was kept from me. Which...it technically is...but anyway. I think he'll be a great challenge for us. Right, Kakashi-sensei?" The man in question let out a huff in thought as he looked away in thought.

"Naruto Uzumaki, huh?"

~Takeshi Uchiha's Pov~

I was shaken awake and I felt irritation consume me. I opened my eyes and glared heatedly at the person. Hearing a squeak come from them I finally sat up fully. Opening my eyes, the classroom was empty, Ino nowhere to be found and Naruto was standing in front of me. The boy seemed to be shaking, so I canceled my glare and let out a soft groan. Standing from my place I walked over to Naruto and patted his head.

"Sorry, I just don't appreciate being woken up. I'm assuming you and I are on the same team?" I say quietly my deep voice tickling my throat slightly.

"U-Uh, yeah, we are. Along with Sakura-chan and Sasuke." Clearing my throat to take away the obvious grunt of displeasure I was about to release. I simply nodded and started walking. Stopping at the door to look back at one of the last Uzumaki.

"You coming or not." The blonde jumped and followed after me as I continued walking. Reaching the roof of the school building at a rather slow pace I opened my eyes and looked at the four people in front of me. My brother, Sakura Haruno, Shoko, and Kakashi Hatake the Copy-Cat Ninja. Interesting group of people if I have to say anything about it. I let Naruto sit on the other side of Sasuke because if I got near him he'd probably bite my head off. I laid across the top stair and looked at the two Jonins.

"Hey! Wait for a second, why are you here! You're supposed to be a genin just like us! We were assigned a three or four-man squad so shouldn't you be with your team!" Sakura exclaimed pointing at Shoko. Letting out a snort, I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

"Ah, well, you see I'm actually a Jonin. I was assigned to keep this guy in line and to learn how to train genin around my age before I start teaching all by myself." Sho explained smoothly. The girl humphed and I already knew Sasuke was glaring harder at the guy already. I think Naruto was just radiating awe. That's what it felt like at least.

"Yes, yes, now that we all know why Shoko is here, let's introduce ourselves," Kakashi said brushing past Sakura's and Sasuke's anger as well as Naruto's amazement.

"What do you want to know?" Sakura asked. I felt like banging my head against the concrete. Why of all times did my body not feel like it needed sleep? Sighing I sat up and turned to face the two senseis with my hands behind me supporting my upper half.

"How about your likes, dislikes, dreams for the future and stuff like that?" Kakashi suggested.

"Hey hey, why don't you two introduce yourself first?!" Naruto demanded.

"Yeah, you look kind of suspicious." I gained the most confused look I think I ever had because Shoko snorted and started snickering to himself. Sakura glared at Shoko and then at myself. Kakashi ignored all three of us and went on with explaining himself.

"Oh, me? Well, my name is Hatake Kakashi... I have no desire my likes and dislikes and dreams for the future... and I have lots of hobbies."

"cough Reading porn cough," Shoko added on gaining a side glare from Kakashi. I let out a soft snicker and directed my gaze towards my white-haired friend.

"All he told us...was his name?" Sakura said to the three of us. Kakashi turned towards his teaching assistant.

"Shoko, why don't you go next?" Kakashi asked putting the young male on the spot. My friend hesitated for a bit before sighing and nodding. He tapped a finger on his chin and hummed.

"My name is Ustsunomiya Shoko. I like star mapping, studying fuuinjutsu, dango and tea, as well as classical music. I dislike the civilian council, meetings, hospitals, color, and public speaking. My dream for the future is to find my clan and help them rebuild Irogakure! Oh, and just a side note, I have a medical condition called Achromatopsia which only allows me to see the world in black, white and shades of grey!" The three sat there in silence with slightly wide eyes, but Kakashi paid no mind and went on swiftly.

"You there to the far right, why don't you go?" He said gesturing to me. Letting out a soft groan I nodded.

"The name's Uchiha Takeshi. I like yawn studying clans, cooking, sleeping, fluffy blanket, and fuzzy socks. I dislike taijutsu, linens that aren't soft, yawn Sakura, Itachi being labeled as a murderer, and Sasuke yawn being hell-bent on revenge. My dream for the future is to yawn bring Itachi back alive and the yawn best brother I can be. I also have a medical condition. It's called yawn Narcolepsy which basically means I'll fall asleep at random times." I explained before laying on my back and closing my eyes feeling very tired once again.

"Alright, next, you in the orange suit." I felt Naruto shift beside me.

"Yosh! My name is Uzumaki Naruto! What I like is cup ramen; what I like even more is when Iruka-sensei pays for my ramen. What I dislike is waiting three minutes for ramen to cook and my dream...is to surpass the Hokage and then have the people of this village acknowledge my existence. Hobbies...pranking I guess." I opened one eye lazily and looked at him. He looked so determined when he spoke of his dream. We need more innocent and determined people like him. Sasuke and I never went through what he did and we still don't live through it. Maybe I should invite him over for a meal at some point.

"I'm sure you'll reach your dream Naru-chan!" Shoko cheered happily. The boy in orange blushed a bit and smiled.

"Yeah! I'm sure you'll reach yours too, Shoko-sensei!" Shoko giggled and waved his hand.

"Don't call me sensei. Shoko or Sho is just fine." Naruto nodded with a smile on his face.

"Next," Kakashi stated before the conversation between the two could progress. I sat up for this one, I wanted to see how little my younger twin changed.

"My name is Uchiha Sasuke. There are things I dislike and I don't really like anything and...I can't really call it a dream... but I have an ambition. The resurrection of my clan and to kill a certain man." I scoffed loudly and stood up. I could feel Sasuke's heated glare bore into my back.

"How stupid, killing the last of your family members when you don't even have evidence." I heard him get to his feet. Turning around I glared at my brother who sent it right back.

"He said it himself that he did it!" Sasuke growled.

"You idiot, if you were observant or smart enough, you know by his personality that he never do anything like that!"

"It doesn't matter if it wasn't in his personality. Those could change in a second!!"

"He didn't have some mental disorder you little twerp, and because of this your hate will consume you, but when the time comes I'm going to stop you from making the biggest mistake in your life." I turned on my heel and walked over to the railing. Placing a foot on it I balanced myself and glared back at my team.

"'If you don't have evidence that supports your accusation then I don't want to hear it.' That's my nindo way." Shoko handed me a piece of paper. I nodded to him in thanks and jumped off the building. Landing on the ground, I read the piece of paper in my hand before heading off.

~At Takeshi's Apartment, Takeshi's Living Room, 6:00 PM~

~Author's Pov~

Takeshi was sprawled across the couch with his Siberian cat named Itachi resting on his chest. He was reading a book on the Village Hidden in the Mist that I acquired from a nearby bookstore. There isn't much on clans here as suspected but seeing the relations between Konoha and Kiri are interesting. I looked down at my cat.

"What do you think about moving to Kirigakure?" The cat moved his head and let out a low purr. Smiling at the feline, I placed a hand on its head and softly rubbed it. I snapped the book shut and let out a sigh. Gently lifting Itachi of my chest and setting him on the couch next to me. Standing, I slid the book back into the slot it came from and pulled out a much more detailed map that I made from the information I've gathered over the years. I looked back at my male feline and smiled at him. He hopped calmly onto the table and looked down at the map in front of him.

"I was thinking of going on a trip and seeing the world. Learning new Forbidden Jutsus and all that." Itachi meows loudly in agreement. I grinned and looked at all the wonderful places. Itachi slapped his paw over a small island. I blinked looking at the cat before lifting his paw and let out a short laugh and nodded.

"Alright we'll go to Whirlpool Country first, then we'll continue our travel from there and head to Kirigakure. Then we'll head north and go to the Village Hidden Under the Moon. I always thought that'd be a cool place to go to." Itachi sat down and let out a meow of agreement. Smiling I petted Itachi's head. I heard a crinkle under my hands as I shifted. Picking up the paper Shoko handed me. Reading it I scoffed, crumpling it up and throwing it into the trash from where I sat.

"Like hell, I'm getting up at five in the morning."

[thirteenthanda]

These 5 Wellness Tips Actually Changed My Life

These evidence-based nuggets of truth from across wellness domains—including natural beauty, reproductive health, and exercise—have changed my daily practice in real ways, empowering me to take control of my own health. Could they do the same for you? Here's what I learned:

1. Ditch fragrance and parfum.

Do you love smelling like crème brûlée? Or maybe it’s just too hard to part with your beloved strawberry-scented body butter. I get it. I’ve been there. For years, I was a product junkie—I had every potion and lotion on the market. It wasn’t until I took a deeper dive to understand the toxins in our everyday products that I became a more conscious consumer of my products and their aromas.

Go into your bathroom and grab your shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Do you see the words, "fragrance" or "parfum" listed in the ingredients? Sounds ambiguous, right? Due to copyright and trademark laws, scents are considered proprietary. Therefore, anytime you read fragrance or parfum on an ingredients list, buyer beware of the mishmash of various aromatic chemicals that may potentially be carcinogens, neurotoxins, and reproductive toxins. In fact, fragrance dispersants, like diethyl phthalate, may bioaccumulate in the body and cause allergies, dermatitis, and respiratory issues.

If you’re about ready to toss your entire bathroom cabinet in the trash, hold up. My go-to resources to learn more about hazards and toxic ingredients in cosmetic and personal care products are the Environmental Working Group’s Skin Deep database and the Think Dirty app. And, if you’re a true aroma-lover who can’t go without a signature scent, consider swapping out synthetic fragrances for unadulterated essential oils and hydrosols.

2. Get in tune with your cycle using FAM.

For many years growing up, I attended a progressive all-girls school. As forward-thinking as it was, I look back and shudder at the poor formal reproductive education I received. Far too often other educated women tell me that they honestly don’t know all that much about their cycle and how it connects to overall health. While not all of us are taught the nitty-gritty of charting and our female cycle in a classroom, it’s never too late to think about birth control, fertility, and contraception differently.

What if there were no hormones, no pills, no procedures? The first time I learned about the Fertility Awareness Method (FAM), I remember asking some obvious questions—so, a woman isn’t fertile for only 24 hours of her cycle? What does my body temperature have to do with anything? If you’ve struggled with painful periods, contraception, or just want to learn more about your body in a way that has no side effects and is environmentally friendly, perhaps FAM is for you.

By creating a more mindful connection with our cycle, we are able to more deeply tune into our bodies. For instance, I realized that taking magnesium and vitamin C reduces my PMS symptoms. And I’ve concluded that I experience less cramping during menstruation when I practice barre and yoga consistently (at least three to four times a week). Plus, charting and FAM allow you to engage in safe sexual practices with a lot more knowing and a lot less praying and hoping.

Are you wondering where to even start? The book Taking Charge of Your Fertility by Toni Weschler is a great introduction. And if you’re ready to get right into it, check out the Kindara app. Kindara makes it super easy for you with their Wink tool—it’s pretty much an Amazon echo that syncs your temperature and data to the app for you. No manual input required!

3. Tap into scent to get what you want.

A huge part of my interest in health in wellness lies in the intersection of our brain and behavior. How can we thrive at home, at work, and in our relationships? Initially, I found the wellness world to be an overwhelming to-do list of practices with which I originally had little or no attachment and therefore interest. Every day, you must do some interval training, practice yoga—oh and don’t forget to meditate! Instead of looking at these habits as chores, I started tapping into what I call the "me and not me" of spiritual practices.

I found my love and niche in aromatherapy and all-natural product formulation. From my years of study, it’s become clear that everyone can learn how to cultivate different states of being through the power of scent. Evolutionarily, we’ve moved away from our old friend, olfaction, making it one of the last frontiers sense-wise. Just smelling certain aromas, like essential oils, influences neurotransmitters.

Want to be more productive? Reach for some peppermint or rosemary at work, which have been clinically proven to improve memory and energy level. Can’t sleep at night? Rub some lavenderand roman chamomile essential oils on your pulse points, since they’re both potent nervous system sedatives. A recent study demonstrated that lavender creates an affinity to bind to GABA, the brain’s relaxing neurotransmitter, which supports the popular anecdotal claim that lavender works wonders for relaxation and sleep.

Aromatherapy and aromatic molecules were once regarded as woo-woo and placebo—thought to offer little scientific advancement to the understanding of the brain and their influence on human behavior; however, recent clinical discoveries (namely, that these molecules easily pass through the blood-brain barrier) have shown us that it’s worth hopping on the scent bandwagon as they may hold the key to future brain therapeutics that potentially rewire stress, anxiety, OCD, and trauma circuits.

4. Once a day, get moving with low-impact, isometric workouts.

I’m an advocate of finding a variety of workouts for your body and goals, but I’m also a big believer in low-impact and isometric exercises. As a woman who enjoys getting active once a day, taking it easy on my body is a top goal. Running multiple times a week was too hard on my joints, and I desperately sought a complement to gentle restorative yoga. And with autoimmunity on the rise, it's coming to light that caring for and moving our bodies in the right way can make all the difference in the long-term.

That’s when I found barre. There’s a body of research demonstrating that the ballet-like moves, like plies, lifts, and bends, actually require more lower-body muscle than traditional lower-body exercise moves, like squats. Plus, low-impact workouts, like barre, help target the seldom-used back and side abdominal muscles that contribute to the core strength needed to maintain posture as you age. And while you might be thinking good posture and flexibility aren’t enough to entice you, you’re also increasing the energizing hormone serotonin and decreasing cortisol.

If you’ve tried barre and it’s not your thing, be sure to explore other low-impact but high-cardio exercises like cycling, yoga, and swimming.

5. Buy an old-school alarm clock and limit phone use to 1 hour of screen time.

For Instagram lovers, this can be a tough pill to swallow. I know it was for me. In 2017, people spend more than four hours a day on their mobile phones. Researchers estimate that about 90 percent of that time is on apps. And it’s recently come to light that people are spending more time on Instagram than email. I used to spend so much time refreshing email on my phone that the pang of anxiety from the influx of messages became normal.

I read a study that discovered we use our phones twice as many times as we think we do. Reaching for the phone and scrolling through Instagram was a go-to mindless ritual. But living life on autopilot and engaging in automatic behaviors was making me less analytical, creative, and intuitive. Once I started to realize that I wasn’t relying on my own mind for actively retrieving information or entertaining myself, I knew I had to make some lifestyle changes.

Currently, my bedroom is a technology-free zone. I bought a battery-operated alarm clock and use that instead of my old routine of using my iPhone alarm. Beyond that, I only use apps on my phone (Facebook, Instagram, mail, etc.) for an hour total each day. You might think 60 minutes is an arbitrary number, and it is, but it works for me because of my circadian rhythm’s sensitivity to blue light and desire to be more present in everyday interactions.

If you’re inspired to implement these changes, or try a digital detox, incorporate the crystal shungite, which is believed to block electromagnetic frequencies and radiation, into your living spaces, set micro-goals for yourself, and verbalize them or make a pact with a partner or friend. I suggest setting the night-shift mode on your phone to start at least two hours before you intend to sleep. And if you’re committed to curbing your smartphone addiction, I enjoy using the Onward, Offtime, or Moment apps. While it may seem ironic to use your phone in an effort to use it less, I promise these apps that track your time and behavior can help you make the necessary changes to improve your quality of live and overall mood.

Often, it's making seemingly small lifestyle shifts that changes your day-to-day and has a huge impact on your health and well-being. These are the five that have made a huge impact for me.

by Leigh Winters

[reesespiieces-blog]

Writing Sample!

So.. I figured since I am new and I don’t have any posts for people to see my writing style I would post a sample! 

Enjoy!

If there was any word to describe the last two years, it would be perseverance.

If there was any word to describe the last year, it would be sweat.

If there was any word to describe the last two weeks, it would be lonely.

If there was any word to describe the last night, it was hell.

Sienna hadn’t relived that night in her dreams for months now, but for some reason it just came crawling back like the spiders in horror movies, or the man outside your window staring you down moments before he kills you. That night, she felt the sharp slice where her neck kissed her shoulder. She watched the red sticky substance pour onto the champagne carpet. She saw his face, soft eyes turning into ones of malicious intention. He disappeared, her gaze upon the photos on her vanity mirror before hearing a struggle of two, a cry and then his harsh eyes turned back into the soft coffee orbs she loved.

Tears poked his eyes, his screams were dry. All he could do his keep his eyes on her, screaming for help.

All she could recall next was seeing the ruby red staining her locks, his rusty mop came in and out of her view many times. Then it was dark again. The feeling of centuries passed before her shallow breathing subsided, seeing the golden eyes of one, and the voice of her father. Black strands brushed her faces as the boy with the golden eyes removed the blade. His arms holding her close before her blood stained, clumps that would be hair, scattered along the boy. What awoke her was the last call of her name, the voice that to her was better than the sweet music played in the palace walls, his voice. Sweat dripped off her brow, pillows soaked and breath heavy. Several moments passed before a knock on the door came with a startle, one of the helping hands waking her for breakfast with her family before school. The mumble of words were incoherent, the rushing water from the shower evident in moments that the helper was heard. She stared at herself in the mirror, her fingers running over water droplets sleeping upon the scar on her neck. Her body shivered. She thought about the many kisses that have been placed there, but also about the boy who saved her life. She thought about the memories with him, all those years. The palace was large, as any royal castle would be; covered with silver and gold, red and white, with an occasional room or object of décor blue, sometimes purple. Everything within the beautiful architecture was simple in design with just accents of engravings. The last thing people would expect in a royal palace was for everything to be so simple, including the little decorations in the halls or along the public rooms of the palace. Every inch of the rooms and halls had a glow from the sun that made you feel warm and welcome. Every guest room was clad in off whites, champagne, silvers and soft golds. The morning light shined in every room making you feel you woke up in heaven. Everything was done to make guests, employees and family to feel as if they were in the safest place on earth. Knights would be stationed at every door at all hours, you would never be left alone. That was the Kings goal, and it worked.

The dining room table most commonly shown seated eight, while the family was only a family of seven they had a special visitor nearly every day.  A display of white and soft blue flowers lined the windows, the marble and crystal chandelier dangled in the sunlight causing small rays of rainbow lights to shine in the dining room against the walls and people. A beautiful way to start the mornings. There were no open doors leading into the kitchen, which was a pure white and soft blue bliss filled with aromas and colors of only food the chefs prepared. Dishes were a white silver china, all the silverware was clean, polished silver lined in their respected cases while the classes all fit in rows of the cabinets near the door to the dining hall. “Oh! Princess, we had not realized that you had finished your bath so soon. Would you like me to get the car ready for you?” The assistant who had stopped her in the hall was small and frail looking, had to have not graduated long ago herself. “No, I'm okay for now Lyra. Send it out front when Roman gets here please.” with a smile in the direction of the palace worker, she snagged one of the fresh apples from the basket on its way to the kitchen. “I'm heading to the library, can you tell my father I will see him soon?” “Yes ma'am.” Lyra smiled, tucking a piece of blonde hair behind her ear to put up in her bandana later, adjusting the basket in her arms and walking towards the dining room the princess had just passed. The Library seemed very different in comparison to the rest of the castle. It was darker with a soft yellow lighting from the lamps sitting on small, individual corner shelves that lined on the sides and in between the tower of bookcases. There in the center of the room was a circle of soft, brown suede couches with slightly lighter tables in front of each four cushion piece of furniture, was the item she had been looking for. Gripping the backpack by its top strap , her feet quickly shuffled across multiple tables to grab what books she was missing before going back out of the big, dark brown, oak doors that lead into the soft, quiet, sanctuary.