#we already had all the magic we needed | SCARLET QUEEN

[xx-just-c-xx]

Prologue [ Welcome to the Villains' World ] Chapter three

Tomorrow morning she already wake up and making breakfast for her, Grim and all her Pokémon.

She yells. “Guys!! it’s breakfast!!”

All at once her Pokémon came into the kitchen. She divided the Pokemon food between the 10 of them, then sighed. “I need that garden done today afternoon or tonight” She said as Grim walked into the kitchen.

“Uh, I’m hungryyyyyyyy!!” Grim said still half asleep.

“Good morning Grim” She greeted.

Grim smells the food, so he fully woke up and saw all the other pokemon that Grim didn't see yesterday.

“Nya!! You have so many monsters!?” Grim said out loud.

Just then, Crowley walked in with a very concerned look on his face.

“Are you aware that almost half of the garden have a lot of blue rocks and a lot of tree and a big river as well, what did happen last night?”

"Ah. I think some my pokemon did overboard with the landscape for my other that'll come later" Florida answered him.

“Very well, did you sleep well?”

“No!! When I went to bed, the mattress fell through the frame! And worse yet, I got woken up by ghosts!” Grim complained.

"I slept well" Florida answer Crowley.

Crowley smiled. “I am delighted to hear that you’ve adjusted so well, despite being sent to another world! Now, moving on let us discuss your assignment for today. Your job today is to clean the campus. The campus is vast, and without magic, it'd be quite a herculean task to clean it all. Therefore, today I’ll have you focus on the area from the front Gates to the library. I do expect that you’ll keep a close eye on Grim, lest he causes another incident like yesterday”

Florida nodding. But Grim seems like he doesn't like it.

“Don't fail me. You and a few of your…. Pokemon, can eat lunch in the cafeteria. I await the fruits of your labor."

The headmage headed out as Grim grumpily crossed his arms.

“Hrmph. I ain’t cleaning nothing! I'm here to study magic so I can be blasting off some spells left and right! Like BAM!!”

“After we clean, we can study in the library.”

Grim grumbled as Florida choose six Pokemon to come with her.

"Sylveon and Gogoat is coming with 100%, since we gonna clean so Cinccino, Jolteon and Espeon will come and Vaporeon too" She take her side bag and put on belt.

"Gardevoir, you'll be in charge taking care this dorm, also plant some berries too" Florida give Gardevoir a container that contained all berries.

Gardevoir nods her head letting Florida know everything will be ok.

Florida have everything she need and Gogoat already in front of the dorm wait for Florida to ride him. And Sylveon also there as well. Florida quickly jump on top of Gogoat and they go to the Main Street, towards the seven different statues of various figures.

She let Cinccino, Jolteon and Espeon clean the statues. Cinccino dust the statues and then make Vaporeon give them water by using Hydro Pump.

“Wow, so this is Main Street, huh? This is incredible!” Grim admired. “I didn’t get to see much of it yesterday. What’s the deal with these seven statues? All their faces look pretty scary”

Florida look and studied the statues "Maybe someone who really important in this land?" It make Florida remember one of her traveling in Galar, that one statue, when she visits someone.

“This lady here” Grim pointed at the statue at the end of the line on the right. It was of a large woman, wearing a dress and a crown, and holding a heart scepter. “Looks like she’s got some real anger management issues”

“You don’t know the Queen of Hearts?” a voice joined in.

The 8 of them turned towards the owner of the voice and saw a boy standing behind them. He in his uniform make him a student. A ginger with bright scarlet eyes and he had a heart over his left eye.

“The Queen of Hearts?” Grim asked. “Is she some kinda big deal?”

“She was a queen who lived in a mazelike garden of roses long, long ago.” The ginger explained. “She was a strict woman who prized order above all. She wouldn’t tolerate a rose being off-color, or her playing-card soldiers being out of step. She basically ruled over a kingdom of madness, but not one of her subjects dared to defy her. You wanna know why? Because the punishment for breaking a rule was immediate decapitation!”

“Sylveon” [That's a bit messed up]

"Jolteon" [I agree dad]

"Yeah I agree with Sylveon" Florida said.

“Wah! That is seriously messed up!” Grim whimpered.

But apparently, the ginger boy thought different. “Pretty cool, right? I’m a big fan. I mean, who would bother to obey a queen that was kind all the time?”

“Yeah true. A leader needs to be strong.” Grim nodded.

“Strong yes. But sounds like she’s abusing her power, that what a tyrant would do. Because if you try to rule only with fear, there would be nothing to stop people from rebelling against you once the fear is gone"

“Anyway, but puttin’ that aside… Who’re you, now?” Grim finally decided to ask.

“Name’s Ace. I’m a first-year student here, as of… today! Pleased to meetcha!” he introduced himself while he held out his hand.

Florida thinking should she shake his hand or not, but Grim didn’t wait for her to talk.

“I’m Grim! I’m a prodigy who’s planning to be, like the greatest mage who ever lived. Then there’s my far less interesting henchwoma—” Sylveon make Grim shut his mouth by using one of his ribbon because he couldn’t stand still while Grim being disrespectful to his trainer(his mom).

Florida didn’t mind that, she herself was getting a little bit fed up with the Grim’s disrespect too. And then she studying the ginger boy in front of her.

His smile was too wide to be genuine, he looked amused rather than pleased and she could see the mischief in his eyes. Her instincts were telling that this ginger is a troublemaker.

While Florida was studying him, Ace made a quick observation. She had this aura of elegance around her and maybe some intimidate aura as well She was average height, her white hair is really long, her eyes were a very light shade of blue. And her odds but also special glasses that make out of gold. She looks beautiful he thinks this to himself.

Florida narrowed her eyes, gave him the doubt look, she slowly reached out her and shook his hand. “The name Florida Lumia. Pleasure to meet you” She then pointed at Sylveon the Intertwining Pokémon “This is my partner Sylveon” Pointed at Gogoat who right now is sleeping "That's Gogoat my ride pokemon" Then she pointed at the other 4 "The chinchilla-like creature is Cinccino, one with yellow fur is Jolteon, one with lilac fur is Espeon and one that shares physical traits with both aquatic and land animals is Vaporeon"

"Florida Lumia?” Ace said as he shook her hand, “Huh. Name’s got an odd ring to it.”

“Maybe because I’m not from here.” She retracted her hand and look at Grim, who finally got free from Sylveon. “And I’m not anyone’s henchman.”

Grim waved his hand at her carelessly and pointed at the next statue beside the Queen. Which seemed like some type of variation of Pyroar with a scar on his left eye. “Whatever. So tell me, Ace. Is that lion with a scar in the eye a famous ruler too?”

And they did this history lesson for 10 minutes, back and forth. Grim pointed at a statue and asked who it was and Ace talked about them, while Florida just listened. Normally she loved to learning about something new but each of these people seems like terrible people. One was a Pyroar with a scar that got his throne through schemes, one was a half Octillery opportunist loan with a half Gorebyss, one was a backstabbing that only got his power from a magic lamp, one who poisoned the people that are prettier than her, and the last two was pretty okay, the lord of the underworld and the Thorn Fairy that could turn into a dragon.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Ace said suddenly his smile turned to a wicked one. “Not like some weasel over here.”

“Myah?!” Grim was caught off guard.

“Pfft… Ah ha ha!” Ace pointed at them and laughed at them. “I can’t hold it back anymore! Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

Florida just thought ‘here it is why he's here.’ She saw this coming, still it was annoyed beyond compare. She just crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at him, make him feel a little bit intimidate.

“Come on,” he kept laughing and laughing. “You’re the ones who turned orientation into such a fiasco, right? The girl who was summoned by the Dark Mirror who can’t use magic, and the monster that no one summoned at all. It took everything I had not to burst into laughter right in the middle of the ceremony!”

“H-hey! You don’t gotta be a jerk about it!” Grim gritted his teeth and his ears burned hotter with anger. He was basically growling just like the rest of the Pokemon.

“So in the end, neither of you got admitted, and now you’re janitors? Ah ha ha! SO lame!” Ace was still running his mouth unaware of the trouble he put himself in.

“What did you just call me?!”

“And you’re both so clueless you don’t even know who the Great seven are. Not one of them! Maybe before you try getting into the Academy again, you ought to take a second crack at kindergarten? Anyway, just thought I’d tease you a bit. And man am I glad I did. It’s been a blast! Unlike you, I actually have classes to get to, so I’ll let you get back to picking up trash. Bye!”

Florida who right now stand still didn't move a bit because she just got a flashback when she doesn't have her special glasses. All her pokemon saw that their master is having a bad flashback so all of them go to Florida.

“Myuh-uh! You ain't walkin' away from me! It's too late for that! Myaaaaah!” Grim use ember on Ace.

"Whoa!" Ace said while blocked the fire with his magic pen.

Grim smirked. “No one makes fun of Grim, Master of Fire, and his henchmens! I’m gonna make that explodey-head of yours explode all over again!” and he let out another ember.

Ace was quick enough to run from it, “Explodey-head?!” he asked now very irritated. “You wanna throw down with me, shorty? You got some guts. You wanna talk hair, huh? I’m gonna shave you like a toy poodle!”

Before anything could happen next. Florida already came back to her. "Jolteon use Thunder Wave on those two"

Jolteon launches a weak electricity make those 2 paralyzes.

"Ah- I couldn't move"

"Nya!! What's this?"

As both just stop moving and fall down, there's some small electricity around those two, it a sigh that they're paralyzes.

"I command Jolteon to paralyzes you 2 before anything bad gonna happen" Florida answer and walking close to Grim.

“What is going on here?” the headmaster come and saw the 2 on the ground.

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Chapter two, Chapter four

[gilbirda]

DANNY PHANTOM

You and me and our best friend makes three - AO3 Series

- The King is dead (long live the king) - Remedy (NSFW) - Race ya! - Party like you are dead:  First Act  |  Interlude  |  Second Act  |  Encore - Never judge a book by its cover (JLxDP crossover) - Hidden identities? Never heard of them (BatmanxDP crossover)

Gilbirda’s Phic Phight 2022- AO3 Series

- What could have been: why don't you love who I am? | I hope you know we had everything | I want you to hurt like you hurt me today - Piece by Piece - Danny loses his humanity with every Wail - The man with a thousand faces - Amorpho backstory

Short fluffy prompts

- Everlasting Trio: “You’re unbelievably cute when you’re tired.” - Dead Serious (DPxDC crossover, DannyxDamian): “Believe me, I will never be tired of you.” - Everlasting Insomniacs (DPxDC crossover, Everlasting Trio x Tim):  “You’re unbelievably cute when you’re tired.” - Anger Management (DPxDC crossover, JazzxJason):  “I think I know what that smile means.”

BATMAN CROSSOVERS - my dpxdc cheat sheet

Danny Arkham Security Guard AU - AO3 Series

Mondays, am I right?  |  Employee of the month  |  Can’t have shit in Gotham  | How to confuse a Bat | Clown around and find out | I’m just a simple guard, man

Friendly neighborhood vigilante: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6  | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19  | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29

Safehouse - Jason adopts Dani

Dance with me? - Jazz/Jason meet at a gala: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Can’t help falling in love (with you)- Jazz and Jason are magically married by a ghost: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

BatPham server Summer event: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Family - Anger Management adopts Billy Batson, de-aged Danny and Dani.

Deal - Danny dies at the hands of the GIW and Jazz hires Red Hood to kill them all

Queen Regent - Danny is underage and appoints his sister as King in the meantime. She is summoned by the JLA.

Custody Battle - Anger Management cuddle after winning the custody of Danny against their neglectful parents.

Untitled - Short ficlet. Red Hood, Batgirl and Red Robin come to an Arkham breakout to find that the Fenton siblings already took care of it.

Death’s kiss - Death flirts with Jason every time he is close to dying.

Bluejay - Anger Management soulmate AU ficlet

Movie Night -  short and soft Anger Management ficlet

Drunk Summonings - Jason summons the Queen Regent Jazz in a drunken dare

Another Harley Quinn - sequel to The After. 

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder - Dead Serious (DannyxDamian) ficlet tattoo parlos/flowershop au

The Wonderous Beauty of the Statuesque Scarlet  - Tall!Jazz Anger Management fluff and vibes

The Interview - Lex Luthor and co. attack the JL the day Jazz has a important interview with them.

Weightless - A cute Jazz/Jason scene of them kissing in a pool.

Personal coach Red Hood - Jazz needs a personal trainer. She wants Red Hood.

Ouroboros - Sequel to Another Harley Quinn and last part of “Deal” series

Gil’s DPxDC Week 2022 fics:

Day 1: The Vampire Bat - Vampire!Jazz, short anger management ficlet. Day 2: The Impostor - Jazz impersonates Red Hood Day 3: The mystery of the giggling cape - There is someone giggling under Batman’s cape. Is not a Robin. Day 4: The After - sequel to Deal Day 5: Chapter 4 of Cant help falling in love (with you) Day 6: 101 Salvations - The Talons imprint on Danny like little ducklings Day 7: I’ll cover you in Moonlight - Gala fic, tall!Jazz and werewolf!Jazz, anger management

Gil’s DPxDC Disney Week 2023 fics:

Day 1: What a man can do - POTC AU. Jayroy (Elizabeth/Will) and Jazz as Jack Sparrow.

Do you like my stuff? You can support me here!

[chuuyrr]

hi hii so can i request sumthin,okay so um remember evil!scarlet with reader so how about bonten Infront of their eyes themselves watch reader turns into a daddys girl to an evillest sorcerer in history.

and ya know remember what they say um they need to kill reader so that she can come back so how about them watching gojo having to kill herbut she won't come back because darkness had fully take over her body.thats all HSHSHSHS

bonten executive! scarlet witch! reader doesn't come back (how bonten and gojo reacts)

jujutsu kaisen x reader

masterlist of the series

╰➤ CW(s): possible major spoilers for jujutsu kaisen and tokyo revengers, mentions of death, blood and violence

╰➤ PAIRING(s): mikey x reader, bonten x reader, dad! gojo satoru x reader, jujutsu kaisen x reader

╰➤ SONG SUGGESTION(s): don't blame me by taylor swift

hello there, anon! thank you so much for requesting and for being patient, enjoy reading :) <3

before you read: made evil! scarlet witch! reader into bonten executive! reader as well because i find it fitting to do so

watching you truly become and take after your biological father, fushiguro toji, has got to be the most painful thing for our beloved gojo satoru and sorcerers. they had seen this before, but this time, it was way worse. you had completely turned your back on them and wholeheartedly followed mikey to be with him, using every single means to protect him and bonten, his criminal organization, from both sorcerers and non-sorcerers at all costs, no matter what the costs were.

gojo was incredibly heartbroken. your resemblance to toji and suguru was uncanny. your eyes no longer held the warmth and joy of his precious kikufuku. he realized you were no longer fushiguro [name] when you pledged your loyalty to mikey and bonten and chose to use your chaos magic to kill. you had become his and everyone's nightmare; the scarlet witch.

you have become obsessed with mikey. instead of being the one to guide him, you chose to join him and condone his actions. you looked above all of the crimes he committed and the blood he had shed, loving him no matter what. everything was fine as long as you had mikey and were with him. you would do anything for him, and mikey loved you back all the same. together, the two of you ruled and became known as the king and queen of japan's most feared crime syndicate.

anyone who dared to oppose you would face the wrath of your immense power and bonten. no one, sorcerer or non-sorcerer, was an exception. you didn't care if you were going down as the most evil sorcerer in history, stealing the title that kenjaku or suguru geto holds. painting yourself the villain and watching the world burn was nothing compared to having and being with your lover. you'd gladly kill anyone and everyone, as much as that sounded so twisted.

no one was going to take that away from you.

gojo stressedly ran his fingers through his hair while the words of the higher-ups continued to linger in his head.

"we should have had fushiguro [name] executed the first thing you got her!"

"none of this would have happened if the zenin clan took her instead of you."

"that girl you call your child is now a monster."

gojo couldn't protect you anymore, not after you had already killed more than a great number of sorcerers and non-sorcerers. but even so, his head and heart were in conflict with one another. a part of him was still in denial and continued to believe that you were still in there. he just couldn't bring himself to gamble with your life and his chances. you were still his daughter no matter what, adopted or not. hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do, but he's left without a choice.

you'd come back right to him again, won't you?

or at least, that's he thought would happen the moment he struck his cursed energy imbued arm through your torso.

gojo had decided to come after you all by himself with the intention of bringing you home. finding where you and bonten were was the easy part, together with dealing with the criminals that guarded the place, considering how he had cursed energy and techniques and all that. however, it became a different story when he faced you for the first time in a long while. you had grown to be a beautiful young woman, yet you resembled fushiguro toji now. he found himself struggling as he fought you.

"[name], please come back home."

"i'm asking you just this once, father, and this will be first and last time i will be reasonable. leave me and mikey alone."

your chaos magic had significantly improved compared to the tremors and shockwaves of red psionics you'd involuntarily cause back when you were still a kid. your power greatly surpasses even the king of curses, not just gojo satoru's limitless and infinity, and unlike before, you are no longer inexperienced. you were sending large blasts of red psionics and utilizing magic at an incredibly seasoned level. your powers were so great, that it can easily bend the laws of physics and render his infinity powerless.

bonten, together with mikey, watched, holding their breaths. everything was a blur of red and blue. the way you fought against your own father without holding anything back was frightening. this fight was rather personal too. so, when the unthinkable happened, when gojo satoru had found an opening and had you killed, bonten was in for a shock, especially mikey.

everyone watched with eyes widened and mouths hanging agape as you dropped to the floor, blood spilling from your mouth and open wound.

"[name], kikufuku, please come back. come back to me like you did before." gojo clasped your bloodied hand, tears filling the brim of his aquamarine eyes. "fight it, [name]. please. don't let it take over you. i need you. we need you."

with your remaining strength, you found yourself chuckling softly, and eventually, your chuckle trickled into a fit of laughter, causing gojo to become even more pale in terms of complexion.

"did you think i had my mind corrupted this whole time? it was me all along."

gojo shook his head, tears now rolling down his cheeks. "no, no. you're lying! don't say that!"

"everything i have done until now was of my own accord. i was one in the control this whole time and i have no regrets." you found yourself scoffing up blood as your eyes began to droop. you have become too exhausted to use your chaos magic at this point.

"[NAME]!!"

mikey ran towards you, shoving the limitless sorcerer away from you as he began to cradle you in his arms. your body was beyond repair, even for your chaos magic. as much as that sounded surreal considering how powerful you were, it looked like, no matter how invincible you were, you had always been human.

or maybe you have just gotten too tired to fight back anymore.

"i'm sorry, mikey, everyone." you extended your bloodied hand towards his face, gently carressing it and staining it with red.

"don't say that [name]. stay with me!" mikey's eyes stared down at you in a frantic. "please."

"[name]? [name]!" the bonten executives muttered in disbelief, watching the life fade from your eyes.

gojo's heart clenched painfully as everyone surrounded you, calling out your name, trying to shake you back awake, but you remained limp in mikey's arms. this cannot be possible. you always come back to him. your chaos magic always refuses to let you die, so why aren't you coming back? what's going on? did he miscalculate something?

"you..."

the limitless sorcerer lifted his head to see mikey, eyes fully taken over by his own dark impulsivity to the point where he couldn't recognize the little gangster boy that his daughter had dated in the past. his heart sank to the floor as he saw mikey looking at him with such rage and atrocity, his hands clenched around a gun pointing directly at him.

"you killed [name]."

gojo swallowed the lump in his throat, watching as the bonten executives saunter towards him, holding the same red haze of revenge in their eyes that mikey has towards him.

"n-no, i just did what i had to do to save [name]. it should have worked." gojo shook his head, still in denial. "it worked before."

"you didn't save her. you killed her, and now, we're going to have to kill you too, strongest jujutsu sorcerer or not."

[my-beautiful-wickedness]

day 3 - favourite romantic pairing

Scarlet Queen

Anastasia and Will. We already had all the magic we needed.

[whatanoof]

A Push in the Right Direction

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Cal Kestis x Reader

Word Count: ~7.6k

Warnings: fluff, smut, swearing, sexual tension, rough sex, sex pollen so by default it's dubcon, pining

Summary: Healing injured patients? Psh, easy stuff. Force healing? A little more tricky. Confessing your crush to your very close friend? Damn near impossible until a flower bush shoves you in the right direction.

A/N: Happy birthday my friend @marvelassassin221b!! I hope you are staying safe, and that your birthday will bring happiness and wisdom to your life. It's been a blessing talking to you and laughing at memes together <3 Thank you for giving me the push to get this fic done and posted, I couldn't have done it without you. Enjoy some of our favorite redhead Jedi ;)

You’ve always been terrible with directions. Like, it’s a miracle you haven’t gotten lost in more dangerous settings, but even your Jedi Master used to shake their head when you had survival exercises in your Padawan years. Greez too, makes comments about how atrocious you are at navigation. You hadn’t been allowed back to the holomap since a disastrous set of directions landed the Mantis on the more unfriendly side of the Outer Rim.

But even with all of your shortcomings at mapping, you have a solid crisis mode. You need to have one as a medic. It’s not a good idea to freeze when a patient is bleeding out on the ground in front of you, there is only one way that is going to end, and it’s not going to be a happy ending. Under pressure, all of the unsureness that surfaces during your attempts at navigation vanishes, and your body is moving before your mind even consciously thinks to. It’s your zen mode, almost your place of meditation, where you give into the inner instinct and allow the Force to guide you through the process. Too bad you can’t reach that state in any situation other than emergencies, maybe you would be able to navigate your moves in confessing a crush.

You had met Cal Kestis on Bracca. He’d cut his hand open on a jagged edge of wall paneling, and Prauf brought him to you, one of the few healers among the scrappers. You couldn’t tell what exactly it was that gave him away to you, but the instant his eyes met yours, you knew where he had come from.

Of course, you waited until Prauf had gone back to work to reveal yourself. Healing through the Force decreases the chance of infection, is painless, and is essentially instantaneous. While your normal supplies would have done the trick, the drama queen in you realized this would be the perfect way to show Cal he wasn’t alone. Force healing is tricky, but you’d had a surprising knack for it ever since your youngling years. The Order had trained you up in the way of Force healing and given you the tools to take advantage of your aptitudes. Cal’s face had been priceless when you simply waved your hand over his, and the wound closed within seconds.

There was a certain comfort in knowing you weren’t alone. Admittedly, in the long years after the Purge, you’d toyed with the idea that you had been the only Jedi to escape. Those had been dark days, where you could barely scrape together the energy to forage for food and water, laughing that the Jedi Order would die with a single Padawan who had lost her lightsaber along with everything she had known.

But then Cal stumbled into your little cordoned off area. You’d become close friends from that moment to the day Prauf died and the Ninth Sister shoved you both off of the cliff and onto the freight train below. The Mantis crew was surprised, to say the least. They had gotten reports of a single Jedi wreaking havoc on Bracca. But they welcomed you aboard and you had become the team medic, patching up Cal when he got back from missions and finding time in between to try and recover the Force abilities you had lost to time.

---

“Hey.” You look up from your work. Medical supplies lie strewn across the floor of your part of the room, bandages unwound and your meager supply of medication stacked methodically in the corner.

Cal looks down at you from the doorway, a streak of something across his cheekbone. You want to wipe it off, but you just smile back, “Welcome back. Find anything cool?”

His happy grin only widens, “You’ll have to come and find out.”

“What?”

He beckons you towards the main hull, “Come on!”

Cere and Greez are already there and seated around the meal table, and BD is perched on the table, chirruping animatedly as if talking to Cere. You take your place with them, noting the empty chair to your right. Merrin is back on Dathomir, searching for ancient texts about Nightsister magic and rituals. She’s been gone for several days, but you still find yourself seeking out her snarky comments and cool confidence.

“Okay.” Cal stands at the head of the table, rubbing his hands together in a way that makes him seem as if he is playing the adult. “I’m willing to bet you're all wondering why I’ve called you here today…”

“Spit it out Cal, you woke me up from a nap for this.” Greez eyes the redhead grumpily, and you fight to hide a grin. Cere also looks mildly amused, if slightly impatient.

Cal rolls his eyes, but continues, “Cordova left a message, saying something very valuable to our quest is locked in a vault in the Zeffo caves. I found the vault today and it matches Cordova’s description, but we need two Force users to access it.” He nudges BD, and the little droid projects an image of the vault door. It’s massive, with gold decorations swirling across it, and two obvious indents in the ground on either side for said Force users.

Everyone’s gazes flit to Merrin’s empty chair. It’s without question she would have been the best fit for this mission. Her combat style complements Cal’s perfectly, and Cere is still hesitant to use the Force.

Realization strikes you, and you glance up to see everyone’s eyes are now trained on you. You begin to shake your head. “That’s a bad idea--”

“We’ll be fine. I’ll lead us directly to the vault. I have my saber, and you have your Force healing. Worst case scenario, you have to patch me up in the field.” That is definitely not the worst case scenario, but there are no other options. This mission is time-sensitive, and you can’t wait for Merrin to get back from Dathomir.

You fix him with a stern glare. “I will come. But--” You hold up a hand when Cal opens his mouth. “You have to stick with me. No disappearing and popping out to scare me, because I will get lost We go in, and we get out.“

“I wouldn--” Cal protests.

“You would.” You snap.

“Yeah, he would.” Cere agrees.

“Sounds like something you would do.” Greez nods.

BD beeps cheerily from its place in the center of the table, clearly in agreement with you.

Cal shuts his mouth with an audible pop, and you cross your arms while staring him down. Yes he would.

“I need BD back here on the ship. I’m running diagnostics on the navigation programming, and I can’t do it alone.” Cere speaks up.

Cal hesitates. You understand; he never goes on missions without BD. The two are a package deal, but everything needs to be running at peak efficiency before you go to the Fort Inquisitorius. And there’s no way you’re willing to deal with a navigation error en route.

You speak up, “Yeah, it will be fine.”

Cal looks at you, “We need BD to unlock a shortcut. What happened to in and out?”

You wave him off, “We’ll take the scenic route. Cere needs BD back here, and we can manage without. We’ll have our comm units, it will be fine.”

---

Do you know that saying, “Famous last words?”

Yeah. You hadn’t realized just how famous those last words could be. It started when Cal realized he’d left his comm unit on the ship in the charging port. But it was fine, because you had yours. Until you dropped it into a puddle after tripping over a tree root.

The scenic route involved passing through the outskirts of a forest, and the terrain was a little trickier than you had been prepared to handle, obviously. So, commless and armed with a single lightsaber and two shared brain cells, you travel towards the entrance to the Zeffo caves.

A flower bush catches your eye. Its leaves are a shocking shade of red, with gorgeous blue flowers that seem to call you over to them. Cal keeps walking even as you stop and reach for the bush. You pluck the flower in the fullest bloom and turn it over in your hand, admiring the veins of deeper azure spider webbing across the petals.

Cal says your name behind you, “We have to keep moving if we’re going to get back before dark.”

Turning to face your companion, you tuck the blossom behind his ear and step back to admire how the blue contrasts against his hair. The word slips out almost without you noticing. “Cute.”

It’s almost comical how quickly his face blooms red. “Guh--”

“It’s a good look.” You reassure him quickly. “Adorable. Pretty. Cute.”

“--Thanks!” He ducks past you to the bush. “I’m just going to grab a seedling for Greez. He’ll like this one.” Cal grabs one of the large pods and breaks it open, removing a seed and sticking it into the pouch on his harness. “Okay, ready.”

But you’re distracted by the red pollen that explodes in a cloud around his head, dusting him with a fine mist that leaves scarlet traces on his face and shoulders. “What’s that?” You step forward and run a finger across Cal’s poncho, collecting the dust and rubbing it between your fingertips. You hesitate, then raise your hand to your face to smell the substance. The sickly sweet scent and underlying current of spicy musk sticks in your lungs. The back of your throat tickles, and you sneeze.

An echoing sneeze draws your attention. Cal leans against the flowering bush, one arm clamped over his nose as he sneezes over and over again. He glances up at you, coughing with watery eyes, “Wha--”

A spike of dread pierces through you. ‘Stars, was it poison?’ He won’t stop coughing, a dry rattle as his body tries in vain to purge the intruding red dust. You fall to your knees beside him. Panic fills your mind, blotting out logic and reason and you place your hands on his body, intent on Force healing him even though you don’t know what is wrong with him. Then, just as suddenly as the coughing started, it stops and silence rings through the trees.

“Cal!”

You're shoving your hand underneath his poncho in an instant to feel for his heartbeat. You hold your breath. You can’t feel a pulse. You scramble to rip his poncho off completely, dragging it over his limp shoulders and head. You shove your fingers against his throat again. There!

His heartbeat flutters delicately, beating a rapid tattoo against your fingertips. You allow yourself to breath. He’s alive. But his pulse is fast, too fast. You rip open his tunic, though you’re not entirely certain what it is you’re searching for.

Just as your fingers brush over his skin, Cal bolts upright with a gasp. “Wh-- where...?”

You swear you almost pass out from the relief that slaps you across the face. “Stars, I thought you were dead. I’m so sorry about the flower bu-- mmm!”

Cal smashes his lips onto yours, pushing you onto your back with the sheer force of the kiss. His tongue dips into your mouth, searching and probing and damnit you can’t breathe when he’s this close to you, this desperate. His hips jerk against yours with an unpracticed, aborted motion, dragging a very prominent erection against your body that makes you jerk back in surprise.

You push him away from him for a second, propping yourself up on your elbows as you search his face for some indication of… you don’t know what. But this isn’t like him. “Cal, what--?”

“Need you.” He groans, his hands roaming over your body without fear or shame and inspiring a wave of pleasure as he squeezes your breasts. “Maker, you feel so good. Smell so good.” You bite back a moan. This really isn’t the time, not in the middle of an Imperial occupied forest. But to be completely honest, he feels really good too.

You’d imagined this before. Well, not these exact circumstances, but the idea of being under Cal. You’d imagined the feeling of his hands scraping over your skin and squeezing your body wherever he would like. You’d imagined his lips on yours, and other places for sure. But you’d really only ever been able to envision Cal as a gentle lover, all quiet moans and hesitant movements and unsure expressions. But this rougher side? You moan raggedly against Cal’s mouth as he shoves a thigh between your legs, rubbing up against your clothed sex. This is amazing.

Streaks of heat flash through your body, converging between your legs. Everything is amplified, the sounds around you, the grass beneath your knees, the blueness of the sky overhead. But it all seems to pale when your attention lands on Cal, who’s more flushed than earlier. You feel the heat beneath your skin too, but he’s got to have it worse right now, because you’re not the one sweating like you’re stranded on a desert planet. Maker, the pollen was some kind of--

His name escapes your lips in a tiny whisper that morphs into a moan halfway through. You allow your head to fall back, and it thunks against the spongy moss across the ground, knocking you back to the present. Cal’s lost in you, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as he ruts weakly against your thigh.

You shake off the haze clouding your mind, crisis mode kicking into full gear. You have no comms, one horny Jedi, and a completely hopeless sense of direction. “Cal. We have to move.”

He whines high in the back of his throat. “No.” It’s almost pleading, but there is an undercurrent of steel that makes you pause.

“Cal. We’re out in the open. Troopers co-- could--” Stars, you can feel the lust pumping under your skin, so close to the surface that it could burst out at any second. But fear hovers on the edge of your mind, pressing in and suppressing the need to jump Cal and reminding you of the certain torture and death that would occur if you were caught.

Cal doesn’t seem to have any of the same restraints as you. His fingers are carding through your hair, “Just wanna feel you. Maybe more.” His teeth latch into your neck, and the dull pain pierces through the haze more firmly.

He got dosed more heavily with the pollen. You resist the urge to curse as you gently detangle from Cal and sit up, biting back a sigh of relief as his teeth leave your skin. “We have to find shelter.” You begin to look around, but all you can see is the forest. You need something better, a place where you can figure out what exactly is wrong with Cal. You try to stand.

“Noooo…” This isn’t going to work. You actually do curse this time. How are you supposed to find effective shelter while dragging a full grown man around hostile territory without compromising stealth, all while your libido is cottoning to the edge of your mind, clouding your judgment?

“Come here…” Cal’s arm wraps around your neck, dragging you back down to the ground even as you try to stand. Okay that’s enough.

“You’ll forgive me later, Cal.” You press your thumb to his forehead and concentrate. His skin is dry and burning to your touch, and your brow scrunches. That’s going to be an issue. You reach to tap into the Force, but you pause. Your Force connection is… foggy. That’s the only way you can describe it in words, but it’s muted and dimmer than usual.

Your Jedi Master taught you a metaphor for using the Force: a barrier exists between you and access to the Force. It’s a wall, and your mind must become like a sharpened sword to pierce through and reach the Force. You can feel the barrier, just as always, but it’s like a second layer exists around it. If the normal barrier is made of thin glass, the new layer is crafted from paper; it’s strange, and thicker than usual, but still easily pierced with extra… force if you can say that without making yourself laugh at the pun. You summon the strength and press your mental sword forward through the barrier.

Rest. Cal’s eyes roll back in his head and he falls asleep with a gentle exhale. He relaxes against you, and you relax in turn when you see the pained lines smooth out of his forehead. Jedi healing includes your own personal anesthesia on demand. It will keep him under for a little bit, though you can’t tell what kind of effect the pollen will have on the Force sleep.

Through some feat of the stars themselves, you struggle to your feet. Cal’s arm is looped around your neck, and you want nothing more than to just sink down to the ground again and give into the weakness and lust pulling at your legs, coaxing you to collapse and take your pleasure. And stars, Cal’s heavier than you expected him to be.

But you shake yourself awake. Can’t get distracted. You glance at Cal’s drooping head. He’s been strong for you this entire time. The least you can do is be strong now and find some shelter. But where?

Voices filter through the trees, and your head jerks up towards the sources.

“Yeah, she told me to take the bucket off, or she would charge the full payment and…” Stormtroopers. Kriffing hell.

“Come on.” You hiss underneath your breath. You gather your legs underneath your body and push. Your muscles scream in pain, but they ultimately obey and you stumble to your feet and begin to move away from the approaching voices. Cal is dead weight over your shoulders, pulling and urging you to rest. It would be so easy to give in, to sink back to the ground and let Cal do what he wants.

The trees blur together as you move through the forest. The stormtroopers’ voices are getting louder and you grit your teeth. You don’t know their patrol route. How are you going to avoid them? All you can do is place one foot in front of the other. Then the mossy ground turns to stone underneath your feet, and you slow. Caves. Perfect.

You hurry inside, fatigued legs forgotten in your relief. There’s a bend directly beyond the mouth of the cave, and you gently lay Cal against the wall. You’re completely hidden from anyone looking from the entrance. You sit opposite him, your head falling forward to sag against your chest. Now what?

Your comm unit is busted, and Cal’s is sitting back on the Mantis, so you can’t contact the crew. You hold a hand to Cal’s forehead. His temperature is getting worse. You don’t know what infected him, so your Force healing is out of the question. The only bright spot is you’re pretty sure the stormtroopers won’t find you. They’re not exactly recruited for their brains, and you’ll be able to sense their muted Force signatures if they get close.

Speaking of…

You trail off, contemplating Cal’s unconscious face. His head sags against the rock wall and there’s a line of drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth. His brow is finally relaxed, his breathing deep and even and it strikes you that this is the most peaceful you’ve ever seen him.

You reach out through the Force. It has become a habit for you, Merrin, and Cal to find peace in each others’ Force signature. Whether nightmares or difficult missions, the others would be there as a silent comfort.

Merrin’s is a mixture of whites and creams swirling against a dark maroon background. When she uses her Force magic, there is an unmistakable green tinge through it. Hers is powerful, with a sense of underlying safety in her strength. True to form, Merrin has been a protector figure in the Mantis.

But Cal’s is more diverse, a blend of warm colors against a grey background with blue tinging the edge. But while the colors are chaotic, Cal keeps a firm hold on his Force presence at all times, never allowing it to surge violently from emotion. He does not suppress it completely anymore, but you know he has the ability to make it nearly disappear from the senses of another Force user. You should know, because you can do the same. Merrin grew up without fear of having to hide her Force sensitivity, but you and Cal survived the Purge. You both have firm grasps of your thoughts and emotions projected through the Force. So in Cal, you found a kindred spirit that understands you better than almost any other person in the galaxy could. You’ve become more familiar with his presence than even your Master’s before the Purge.

But now, your brow furrows as you search for his Force presence over and over, pushing into every crevice of the surrounding environment without violating his privacy. You’re not mistaken. It’s gone, almost as if he has been turned into a droid before your eyes. Every living thing has a Force presence, no matter how minute. But Cal’s comforting whirl of light is gone, vanished as though he is no longer connected to the--

Cal’s eyes fly open and he sits forward with a quiet gasp. You jump. It’s worn off then. You secure his body with the Force, holding him loosely so as not to cause any lasting damage. You would have to tackle the Force connection problems later.

“I need you to focus.” He pushes against the bonds with a whimper, and you bite your lip as you struggle to hold him still.

“Cal!” Your Force bind tightens, and he stills with a grunt. “Talk to me. Fight through it.”

He shakes his head, eyes screwed shut. “Hurts.”

“What hurts?”

“Every-- ah! Everything. Can’t-- can’t th-think. Only thing-- makes it better… you.”

What? Your concentration lapses and the bonds loose. He lunges forward and buries his nose into your neck again, inhaling you as his hands scrabble at your clothes. “Hurts less with you. Smell so good--soft. Please?”

Stars, you can’t think straight with him touching you like this. You bite back a moan as his hands roughly squeeze your breasts through your shirt. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to give in. Just for a little. Indulge, and then you can figure out a way back to the Mantis. Then Cal raises your shirt and licks a long stripe up your neck, and that’s all the convincing you need.

You melt into his mouth, your hands running under his shirt and harness. His chest is just as feverishly hot as his forehead, but you can’t bring yourself to care when he swings a leg over yours so he’s hovering over you, knees planted on either side of your body. His hands shove your shirt over your head before setting to work on the button of your pants. You raise your hips to allow him to pull your pants under your butt. Your own hands yank at his clothes, silently begging him to strip with you.

But he doesn’t. He kneels between your legs and pulls your underwear to the side, exposing your wet folds.

“Cal--!” You’re cut off as he drags his tongue over your pussy, flicking against your clit at the end. Your stomach muscles contract, and it’s all you can do to keep quiet as he licks deep into your core.

---

The world is blurred. It’s like something crawled into his head and messed with his brain, dragging his focus away from more important issues… he can’t seem to remember right now. He can’t even feel the Force. His connection is compromised, the colors of the world are off, and there’s this bone deep ache within his body urging him closer to you. And as he’s drinking in your taste, the pain subsides and he can breathe again.

What is this? What’s happening to him? It has to be the pollen, it has to be its effect on his body, that’s why he’s lost all control over his mind and self. It’s why he can’t hold himself back from your body and you.

You’re all he can focus on; you’re so beautiful writhing under him as he tastes you. He’s never done this before. He can’t figure out why he hasn’t done this sooner, because you taste amazing right now and how you sound as he slides his tongue through your folds is doing things to him that he’s never experienced before.

His hips are dragging against the floor unintentionally. The friction of his dick against the rough material of his pants is a small slice of heaven, and he whimpers at the pure electricity spreading down his spine. He doesn’t want this to end so soon, but his body is shoving him towards the edge of release and the relief he knows is going to come with it.

---

A moan keens high in the back of your throat as Cal’s mouth presses against your soaked core. It’s sloppy and clumsy, but Maker if he doesn’t make up for it with enthusiasm. The only sounds coming from him are tiny moans and grunts and you shudder as his fingers dig into the pillowy flesh of your thighs, leveraging them apart and holding them there firmly. Of their own will, your hips roll up into his face, chasing after his touch.

You’re completely unprepared for Cal to growl when you do so. His grip tightens, and you squeak as your thighs are spread even farther apart and his mouth completely envelopes your clit.

Is this what heaven feels like? You can barely manage coherent thought when his tongue is devastating you like this, but thequestion rotates around your lust dumb brain as your toes curl and your back arches. Your release rushes up and sweeps you away, your core clenching as waves of pleasure wash over your body. You hear Cal whine as you cum, and you hear your own moans as you ride out your orgasm.

---

Stars, why hadn’t he done this sooner? The sounds that he’s pulling out of you right now could make him come in his pants on the spot, and the taste of your release has him rutting against the ground all the more insistently as he chases his own high.

But he doesn’t want to come in his pants, he wants to be inside of you. He wants you, your body squeezing tight around him, to feel the wetness seeping around his tongue rather than tasting it, even if it tastes divine.

He grabs your hips and yanks you down so your crotch is flush to his. He nearly loses his mind when your soaked core meets the bulge in his pants. Fuck, he thought he could wait, but he can’t.

But--something is still off with the world’s coloring. Where is the Force? The comforting pressure is gone from the back of his mind, the constant reminder of balance that keeps him in tune with his emotions and surroundings. Panic edges around the perimeter of his mind. In an act of desperation, he reaches for the Force, searching for the whispers of memories that accompany his world. They’re gone. Where did they go?

You whisper his name again, and this time his eyes meet yours.

---

You watch Cal carefully. He’s flushed, trembling as he hovers over your body, hands bare centimeters away from your skin. His eyes are desperate, and you can feel the pain in them as clearly as if it was your own. A bead of sweat tracks down his temple to soak into the collar of his harness, and he fumbles to rip the rest of his clothing off, discarding it on the floor as though it burned against his flesh.

“Cal.” He looks back at you. “Take what you need.”

It’s all the permission he needs. Relief and something else flashes through his eyes before he looks back down and fumbles with his pants fastening. His cock is flushed dark red, and his hands tremble as he pulls it out of his pants, jaw clenched as he lines up with your entrance. He slides into you with a bone-deep sigh of relief, and you cry out at the stretch. Every inch sparks pure electricity up your spine, and your eyes roll back in your head. He bottoms out, and for a heart stopping moment you feel a connection to him you couldn’t describe in words. Your hips roll against his, grinding the head of his cock up against something heavenly. Light explodes behind your eyes at the movement, arching your back and curling your toes.

Cal chokes, a beautiful sound you’ve only heard a few times before; the one that sounds like its been pulled from the deepest parts of his being, like he’s just ascended to another plane above the physical. It’s gorgeous and so insanely hot you’re completely unprepared for his sudden movement when he lunges forward.

Cal’s hand shoots out and presses against your neck, effectively pinning your upper body to the hard ground. You inhale shakily through your nose, but his grip does nothing more than hold you. You can still breathe, but the pressure on your throat sends a shock of heat between your legs with the reminder of the control you just relinquished.

“Stop that.” His other arm slams onto the stone beside your head, and your eyes lock. Cal’s pupils are blown, so dark you can almost see your reflection in the dim light of the cave as he glares down at you.

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he drags his hips away from yours, inch by painstaking inch and rocks back into your body with an easy roll of his hips. He exhales gently as he bottoms back out inside of you, a low moan rumbling out of his throat when he reaches that same depth within your heat.

It’s the eye of a storm; a hurricane you hadn’t known you’d entered. He rocks back and forth again, only there’s fractionally more force and speed to the motion this time. Again, and your body shakes with the force. Another, and you have to bite your lip to stifle the scream when he slams back into your body. It’s like the tide, coming in gradually, but more and more with each passing moment. The force swells, each thrust pushing into you a little harder and making your body shake a little more with each thrust.

A shuddering groan rumbles out of him as he finds the rhythm. The hand not pressed delicately around your throat slams down on the rock next to your head. When you look up towards the cave ceiling, Cal’s flushed skin and tousled hair fills your vision.

His hair, which is usually swept out of his eyes. Cal’s hair has always been so well cared for, usually brushed and slicked back so it doesn’t dangle in his eyes. Now, it’s soaked with sweat and falling into his face as he stares down at you like you’re the only star in the sky.

---

Take what you need? Holy stars, he can barely think enough to comprehend it, but some inner part of him aches at the sentence.

As soon as he realized his heart jumped every time you smiled at something, or that his brain short circuited at the sound of your laugh, he’d sworn he would keep it under wraps. He’d promised himself he would wait until after the galaxy finishes imploding and collapsing around your heads. The first time he’d jerked off to the idea of your body, he vowed to satisfy himself with his hand until it was safe. He’d wait until after the holocron is safe and there’s nothing to worry about, because relationships are messy and complicated and--

Fuck, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about that promise, because how can he regret being balls deep in you while you’re whining and squirming underneath him, when you look at him with such trust even as he pins you to the floor by your throat? His eyes gravitate to the mark on your neck, red and irritated with the indent of his teeth, and he feels his cock twitch even as he continues to pound into you. He likes that.

The promise didn’t keep his eyes from wandering to your face at any opportunity. It didn’t prevent the pressure in his chest from growing over the weeks and months. It definitely didn’t keep Cere and Greez from noticing, and that was a conversation he would rather have scrubbed from his mind.

Take what you need. That one sentence is spinning his world on its metaphorical finger. Take what you need. As if he didn’t want it, but he needed to do it. In all honesty, it had really felt like he was going to die. The burning in his throat that caused the coughing fit, then the racing heart and the overheating; he thought he wasn’t going to make it unless he--

Well, unless he fucked you.

But even if he needs it, he wants it even more, had wanted it for too long. But everytime an opportunity presented itself, he pulled back. He remembers how he threw away the flowers he gathered on the mission instead of bringing them back to you on the Mantis. He remembers every time he denied spending time with you, because his emotions were too raw and close to the surface, and he couldn’t predict his control over his own tongue. Because he didn’t think he could have handled it if you didn’t want him back.

But you had offered to help. Maybe you’d wanted it too, because the whole galaxy could be shoving you in one direction and you would defy it. Nothing can make you do anything you didn’t want to, and that applies to Cal Kestis too.

---

Your orgasm swells up sharp and sudden, gripping you in its claws and shoving you into the attack of muscle spasms and searing pleasure that punches into your abdomen. Your body arches, accidentally hitting your head against the ground.

Cal’s rhythm stutters and his hips jerk forward. His hand leaves your throat as he drops to his forearms. His head drops down to press against yours gently, even as he whimpers and continues to grind forward into your soaking heat.

“Fuck.” Cal gasps, eyelids fluttering rapidly. “Fuck. ‘M gonna cum.”

There’s no time to respond before he’s drawing up and tensing against you. His hips piston in and out once, then he’s cumming and all you can do is lie there and take it. Fuck that’s hot.

You can feel him spilling into you, every warm spurt of cum and every twitch of his cock as he spends himself. Even better is the drawn out groan that trails into his upper register, ending in a tiny whimper. The tension drains out of his face and he sags down, sweaty skin pressed against yours. His arms wrap around your body and he hoists your limp body up as he rolls over. He sits against the wall of the cave, seating you on his lap, cock still firmly buried inside you.

You allow your head to sag back against his shoulder, relishing in the feeling of his body pressed so closely to yours. His hand paws weakly at the fabric of your shirt, and you raise your arms to slide it off. It’s better like this, skin to skin contact seems to calm him down. He buries his nose into your bare neck and mumbles something you can’t make out.

You nudge your head against his gently, “Hm?”

“Thank you.” His lips ghost over the delicate juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Thank you thank you thank you...” He continues to mutter the phrase into your skin, tickling your skin as he nuzzles closer to you.

You should say something. Confess, maybe, everything you’ve been hiding. “Cal, I--” You shift slightly, and something feels off. You furrow your brow and glance downwards at your joining point, “Cal are you still hard?”

He props his chin on your shoulder. “Uh--” He thrusts shallowly up into you, and you stifle a whimper. “Ye-yeah. Sorry?”

“N--” You gasp as his cock twitches. “No. Don’t be sorry. Do you need to go again?” Arousal stirs in your core again, burning a slow path through your nerves and reigniting the flames that had dulled to embers. Your breath catches in your chest and you grind your hips back into his.

“I--I think so.” His voice is strained and his breath comes in short gasps next to your ear. “Not-- not as-- as bad though.”

“That--ah!” Cal chooses that exact moment to pick a spot on your neck and latch on. He nips at the skin before soothing it with his tongue. His hands, roughened with callouses from his saber, climbing, and tinkering, scrape over your skin with just the right amount of friction. You bite your bottom lip. “That’s fine. Should I move?”

His hands find your hips and hold you firmly in place. That’s a no then. His hips rock up into yours gently, and you feel your cheeks warm at the wet sounds of your combined release. Cal grunts, “Let me.”

So you do. You lie back against his bare chest and just take what he gives you, whimpering whenever he brushes against that spot inside you that sends electricity up your spine. You’re gripping his arms so hard you’re sure he’s going to have bruises in the shape of your fingers.

---

Stars, you’re fucking perfect. Just lying here and giving yourself to him. He can feel the Force dimly, but it’s there. The pollen is leaving his system as he slowly fucks you on a cave floor in the middle of a dense forest while stormtroopers patrol outside.

You cry out with his next thrust, the head of his cock striking something inside of you that must feel good because you clench around him and--

Did you just come again?

The additional lubrication only increases the lewd squelch with every thrust, the mixture of his cum and yours only making sliding in and out of your channel easier. He can still feel the effects of the pollen at the back of his mind, and it keeps him hard and sensitive as he continues to fuck you.

He’s aware he should be at least a little worried about the implications, starting at the top with how he’s going to complete the mission and ending with what exactly fucking on a cave floor means for your relationship. Somewhere in the middle is the stormtroopers and the pollen, and the oath of the Jedi Order forbidding relationships. But he can’t grasp it.

Even if there are more pressing concerns, all he can do right now is continue pushing his hips up into your soaking core painstakingly slowly. He wants to enjoy this while he can, while he’s able to fool himself that you want him back. Unless…

---

The only solace you could find in the situation was that you could have Cal, even for these few short moments. Because as much as you may want to convince yourself, a tiny voice inside your head keeps whispering: it’s all the pollen. That’s the only reason why he wants you. And you force yourself to believe the voice, because it’s easier to block off any chance for pain and rejection.

But you know you’re in trouble the second Cal opens his mouth. The words are a harsh whisper, rasping out of his dry throat into your ear, “Beautiful. So gorgeous, giving me what I need, what I want.”

You arch against him and stifle the whimper rising in the back of your throat. His mouth is right next to your ear, so there isn’t anywhere for you to escape from the words that rumble into your brain; words you try to convince yourself are empty. You shove your hand against your mouth rather than allow any sound to escape.

He moans, “Want to do this again. Don’t want this to be just once.”

“Th--that--that’s the pollen talking.” You gasp when you feel his fingers graze over your clit, your own hand drifting back to latch into his hair.

Cal hisses when you tug with a little more strength than necessary, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. One hand supports your weight as he moves you up and down on his dick, the other rubbing little circles around your clit. His hips make up for the lost strength everytime they drive up into you at the lowest point of the rhythm, squelching with every thrust.

“Not--not the pollen. All you. All me.”

You blink, all temporarily forgotten when the words register in your hazy mind. “...What?”

“Wanted this. Wanted this for a while.” Cal finds your clit with his fingers, and you can’t prevent the way your legs jerk and your body seizes against his.

Fuck you’re going to cum. If the first orgasm was a flashfire, this one is a slowly simmering blaze. It creeps up slowly, burning a hole through your abdomen, curling around your ribs and inching down your legs. Your eyes roll back, and your head falls back against Cal’s shoulder.

“Cal. I--I thi--” You try to warn him, you really do. But words aren’t forming correctly right now, and it’s all you can do to hunker down and try to prepare yourself for this truly devastating crest that’s preparing to launch you over the edge.

If Cal gets your warning, he doesn’t show it. All he does is turn his head to the side, press a light kiss to your cheek, and groan, “I think I love you.”

Oh shit. Cal’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect if he planned it. Before you can respond, hell, before you can even begin to fucking process that last sentence, you’re coming hard. Maybe it’s the whiff of pollen you got earlier, or the fact that Cal is the one fucking you so sweetly and thoroughly, or the thrill of being mere steps away from discovery, or a combination of all of it, but this orgasm certainly feels like the most intense of your life.

Spasms ripple outward through your belly, curling you up in Cal’s lap as you ride out your high. Your legs straighten and your toes curl and you clamp down hard around Cal’s cock.

Cal shouts raggedly in your ear, pulling your body close. But even as you whimper and shake on the end of his cock, you remember that you can’t make too much sound.

As if he heard you, Cal burrows his face into your shoulder, his teeth once again finding a place in your skin to muffle his voice as he cums deep inside you once more. His body shakes as he spends himself again, the spasms slowly subsiding with every jerk of his hips into yours.

‘I did hear you.’ There’s a tinge of amusement to the nonexistent voice that echoes in your mind, and you relax back against Cal.

‘Feeling better?’ You nudge him back through the Force, revelling in the feeling of his colorful presence swirling around you once again. The pollen has worn off.

He doesn’t say anything in response, only pulls you close with his arms around you. His mind pushes at yours, and you let him in. You’ve done this a million times, usually on the tail end of nighttime panic attacks, but this time is different. This is the most loose he has ever been with his Force presence, and you allow it to fill the empty parts of your mind. Wait, he loves you?

He rushes over you in the same way the tide comes back to land, calming your fear at finally understanding the weight of his last confession. He’s relaxed, and the familiar energy has a new angle to it, a new emotion you hadn’t felt before in another’s Force signature. You grasp it gently, turning it over and admiring it in the eye of your mind. What is it?

The answer rushes to you just as Cal mutters against your skin, “Love.” The same thing you’d been feeling in the pit of your heart every time you looked at Cal, everytime he kept you safe from the nightmares in his arms and stayed with you until morning, every time you made him tea and did maintenance on his gear after a tough mission.

“I love you.”

You blink up at the ceiling of the rock cave, mouth open with the words just on the tip of your tongue. But they won’t come. The words are stuck in your throat, and try as you might, you can’t make yourself say them.

“Hey.” Cal whispers in your ear, and you shut your mouth. “You don’t have to say it back. But you know that I do, and I know a little of what’s going on up here.” His finger taps the side of your head lightly. "You don't have to figure out where to go from here. I'll navigate."

‘Thank you.’ You send the words through the Force, and he acknowledges them. Yeah, you're shit at knowing where to go when it comes to feelings. But at least with Cal, you won't have to worry about getting lost alone. You sit in peaceful silence for a few minutes, before a thought occurs to you.

“Cal.” His name is little more than a weak rasp off your tongue. You clear your throat and try again. “Cal.”

He grunts unintelligibly.

“Don’t bring that seed back to the Mantis.”

A/N: I will be the first to admit that this fic was hard, because I wanted to incorporate some previous feelings into this to make it less dubcon, and I didn't feel that all plot holes were filled. But that didn't make this any less enjoyable for me, and it was fun to explore a new facet of Cal's character.

Thanks for everyone who gave me inspiration and motivation to keep pushing this through the old brain up here. Smut isn't the easiest for me:)

Taglist: @alliterative-albatross

[anaiswriterr]

My Darling,

Pairing: Deku x Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: smut, light cursing, nsfw, soft dom Izuku (Characters are aged up, Y/N is 20 and Izuku is 23) Forgive me, I’ll go to church after this I promise. I tried my best, one day my smut writing will get better but until then I’m practicing. Um.. yeah this isn’t as graphic as other but damn I had to take multiple breaks. THIS IS 18+

Request: 18, 63, 72, and 150

SYNOPSIS: A simple tribe girl picking flowers for her mother’s shop and Dragon King who was in desperate need for a wife. He met her on a warm spring evening, and was set to marry her the next night.

Y/N wouldn't necessarily call herself lucky, though, many girls would remind her of the soft skin she possessed, the darling smile she was blessed with, and the warmth her heart carried within as she handed out lilies to the little girls that ran all throughout the village. Blessed with Aphrodite's beauty, undoubtly she caused heads to turn everywhere she went.

Y/N L/N, daughter of the villages flower shop owner, was the most beautiful in the land.

A proud tribal woman of the Dragon Kingdom, who never paid attention to politics, who never saw the wrong in most. The one who caught the wandering eye of King Izuku when he made his frequent visit to the village for it's annual festival.

The golden hew that surround her crouched body, as she continued to pick the roses from her garden. She hadn't noticed his eyes, she was to busy cutting off the thorns off its stem before handing the rose to a small boy who watched in awe as she filled her basket with more roses. "This ones for you," She says softly, dropping the flower into his small palm; he clutches onto the now non threatening stem. His eyes grow large with his smile as he wraps his arms around the girl, "Thank you, Miss L/N!" He runs off the other direction.

Her kindness is what drew Izuku Midoriya. Like a magical love spell casted on the man, love at first sight.

Who knew the King would come back with a wife who wasn't even remotely close to royalty, no, she was a normal tribal girl who ran with her heart never her head - surely she never thought she'd be Queen one day to King Midoriya. But like all fairytales she married, and fell madly in love with the king as he held his palm out to help lower her from his horse.

She sighs, "Do we have to attend this party?"

Izuku smiles at his bride, hold her hand close to his chest placing a chaste kiss on her fingers, "Just for a little while, I promise you'll have fun. Besides, I'll be with you the entire night."

"Is that a promise?" Y/N asks nervously, chewing on the insides of her cheeks. Still new to the whole royalty transition, she looked the part but inside she was still the girl who picked up flowers for her mother. Izuku can feel her nervousness radiate off her body, arching a brow he smiles at her in hopes to lift her sprits. "I know you're still new to this, but there's a reason why I married you."

"Why is that?" She lifts her head to meet his emerald green eyes, ones she'd often found herself most nights staring deeply into.

"That's for me too know and for you to find out later." He places a kiss on her cheek.

Y/N scoffs as his playfulness at they enter the castle, hundreds of bustling maids scurry around in preparations for tonight's ball. "Continue to say things like that, and we both won't be attending the party tonight."

"Why is that?" He smirks looking directly down at his wife with hungry eyes.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out later."

***

Y/N wears a sly smile as she makes her way around the busy ballroom, taking in small sips of her champagne as she converses with the girls she's recently befriended. Uraraka and Mina, both who were recently married to Bakugou and Kirishima. Y/N found it easy to talk to them, simple, all three were new to the life of being royalty. Y/N hums in agreement at something Mina says, giggling at Uraraka's blushing cheeks till she feels two strong arms wrap around her waist, "Excuse me ladies, but if you don't mind I'll be stealing my wife for a moment." Izuku says playfully, before latching his arm into yours.

"Where you taking me?"

"I haven't told you how beautiful you look in this dress," He whispers into her ear causing a warm chill to run down her spine, "I can't wait to rip it off."

A scarlet red blush creeps onto her cheeks, biting her bottom lip in comfort Y/N stands on her tip toes to lean in closer to his ear; "What makes you think I'll let you." Y/N pulls him onto the ballroom floor, throwing his hands on the small of her back as the two sway to the music played by the orchestra. "I should be mad at you; you left me all by myself Zuzu. After you promised you'd stay with me all night." She cooed into his ear, reprimanding him of his broken promise. A faint blush dusts his cheeks, twirling her to the music.

"Well then, let me make it up to you. Besides, you made friends at least."

Y/N shrugs, "You're right, but Zuzu I wanted to spend more time with you."

His hands grasps at her hips, pulling her in close. "Then we can spend the rest of the night together, in bed." He says suggestively, Y/N pretends to think, wondering if she could drag this conversation on longer. He sure was persistent, a small giggle escapes her lips, she places a small peck onto his lips.

"And why don't we spend time together, here? After all we are the hosts, right Zuzu?"

Izuku chases her lips fighting back the urge to nibble her ear in plain sight - she was toying with his emotions.

"I don't need an audience to watch me fuck my wife," He growls in anticipation - He can already tell he has an effect of her. Her movements to the music still and her demeanor slightly changes, her eyes grow dark. Izuku has Y/N right where he wanted her; but preferable he'd rather have her underneath him. Izuku cheekily leans back into her ear, "Just know I'm gonna fuck your brains out after tonight."

***

The two run hand in hand down the hallway to their bedroom, laughing the entire way down until they finally reach the door. Izuku nearly breaks the door down before slamming it shut behind him, his hand moves forward to cup her cheeks, pulling her in for a deep searing kiss.

Y/N moans in delight when he has her back against the door, her hands pull at his dark curly locks as his tongue explores her mouth, "I want you," she managed to pant between each kiss, falling in complete bliss as his lips trail down from the corner of her lips and down her throat; latching onto her collarbone.

"Izuku,"

"Patience."

Groaning in annoyance, she rubs her thighs together to ease the growing ache between them. With her fingers entangled between his locks she pulls him off her neck, revealing the small bruises and bite marks he left behind. His hands roam all throughout her body, squeezing, pulling, grasping. "This is getting in the way," he groans as he tugs on the fabric of her dress, biting his lip she mumbles, "Then take it off."

"Yes ma'am." He chuckles, turning her around untying the strings to loosening the corset, his lips hungrily latch to the back of her neck. "Izuku!" She whines, "Hurry up!" He pulls off her dress, ripping the back into shreds, twisting her back around. Y/N hops into his arms, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he carries her off to their bed.

His hands fiddle with the waistline of her panties, playing with the lace material between his fingers - gently pressing her down into the mattress. She whines beneath him, watching as he trails down her body, his lips leave trails of tiny bruises and saliva down her chest. Placing two bite marks just above her breasts, eyeing the lace white bra she wore. His eyes plead for her to take it off, "Please daring." His dark green eyes bore into her E/C ones, "Please," Nodding, Y/N arches her back unclipping the hooks off her back and tossing it onto floor.

His lips attach onto her hardened nipple, the pleasure of his warm mouth against her breast seizes her. Her fingers curl through his hair pulling him closer towards her chest, his hands placed firmly over her hips as he traveled down the valley between her breast and onto her belly, placing soft lips against the soft skin of her naval. She giggles at his gentleness - still not used to the feeling of his roaming hands. He stops just above the waist band of her panties, eyeing her down as he kisses her through the fabric. Sending waves of pleasure throughout her body - the warmth surrounds her like a burning fire.

Fingers curling over the fabric, pulling them down slowly.

"Don't tease."

Izuku's head ducks down to her inner thighs, biting and sucking against the soft skin, he smiles, "I'll take as long as I want," he kisses all along her legs, his hands wrap around her ankles pulling her closer as he slowly slides down her panties, throwing it off to side. Izuku licks a long strip against her aching core, moaning into her folds and sucking against her aching clit.

Y/N pulls against the roots of his hair, he lets out a low groan - the vibrations only making her shiver. "Fuck.." Y/N throws her head back, massaging Izuku's scalp with her fingers, a series of "please" and "yeses" string past her lips - her volume only increases with his speed. Dark green emerald eyes lock with her hazy half lidded orbs, "Darling, you have to be more quiet. Or else they'll hear us."

Was that necessarily a bad things? If people heard?

Y/N covers her mouth with her palm, one hand grasping at the sheet for some kind support and the other holding back the increasingly loud moans from her vocal cords ripping out into a soft harmony with his grunts.

"Oh fuck," Izuku suddenly plunges two finger deep inside, pumping in and out of her tight hole, licking at her sweet folds and sucking hard on her clit. Increasing his speed, a hot coil of pleasure overtakes her core, legs shaking, he drinks up all her juices. He smirks, leaning back to admire the mess he made, "Perfect." Y/N's quick to cross her legs - suddenly left feeling insecure as his hungry eyes wonders all along her. Her hands cover her breasts.

"Woah, don't cover up." Izuku leans in to uncover her chest, pressing a small kiss to her temple. His hands go to unbutton his shirt, throwing off his royal tunic and off his white long sleeved undershirt. Y/N props her self up with her elbows - biting her bottom lip, chewing in anticipation. Unbuttoning his pants, Y/N points towards his large bulge - arching a brow sheepishly at her husband, "Do y-you want me to help you with that?"

Nodding his head no, he gently presses her down shimmying out his pants. "Tonight's about you." His lips connect with hers in a heated passionate kiss, his strong hands wrap around her ankles - throwing her legs over his shoulders positioning himself in front of her entrance. "Please?" He asks, eyes begging to be let in.

"Yes, please."

Her husband pushes himself into her tight aching hole a small moan escape's past her lips. Her head cradled by two strong arms; his thrusts start out slow as he bottoms himself out into his wife, rocking back and forth with his hips. Moaning out into her lips.

Mimicking one another's pace, Y/N claws away at his back. Nails digging into his skin, creating crescent shaped marks and long red lines being scraped into his skin.

Izuku lays in forehead against her shoulder blades, kissing and napping away at her skin, groaning from the hot painful marks on his back.

"Zuku.." She moans clinging onto his back for support, his arm shoots up to the bed frame rocking his hips harder into hers, hitting perfectly at her g-spot. A silent scream forms from her lips, whimpering beneath him at his quickened pace.

Pounding Y/N into the mattress he mutters, "I love you."

Y/N is moaning mess as Izuku moves her hiked up leg over his shoulder slinging it over his waist, hitting a whole new angle her nails dig into the flesh of his back even deeper, penetrate the skin and drawing blood. Throwing his head back groaning at the pain he pumps in faster, plunging deeper into her hitting a new angle. Her mouth forms an 'O', arching her back from the mattress Izuku presses his weight onto her increasing his speed hitting her in all the right places.

His tight grip to the bed frame loosens to fall beside her head, encasing her with two muscular forearms - it's not long until she feels a hot twist in her core moaning for him to slow down with a hand pressed down to his abdomen. "I-I'm gonna-"

"M-me too." Izuku pants, his trusts turning sloppy and faster. Y/N's vision blurs as the coil releases with a small "Please" - and not long after that Izuku collapses on top of her.

The both a panting mess with stupid smile pained on their lips, a doopy look in Y/N eyes as she smiles towards the ceiling while Izuku chuckles - pressing his forehead onto hers before rolling onto his side. A breathless giggle escapes past her lips, Y/N turns to her side propping her head up with her palm using her other hand to pull up the covers she sighs in content, "I love you, you know that right?"

"I love you more."

"Not possible."

Izuku pulls her in by the waist smiling as he lays into her chest, "sometimes I feel like my hearts gonna burst, that how much I love you."

Y/N rakes her fingers through the messy curly green locks , thumbing away the sections that stuck to his forehead nuzzling her chin on top his head; maybe she was lucky. Luck was always a possibility for her but one thing she was certain was the pure happiness she was blessed with.

[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.

[avengershumanresources]

blood 2 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, eventual smut (like, wayyy down the line), adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 1 - part 3 

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

2 - a night at the pub

You parted from Stephen the moment you saw Natalia and James in the crowd at the pub. They were sipping from large beer steins, listening to a bard sing a sorrowful song about the death of the great Iron Defender. 

When the music ended and the pub applauded, the entertainer switched to something more upbeat to soothe the mood.

“A bit sentimental for you two, isn’t it?” you asked, pulling back your cloak. Stephen had transfigured your overbearing mourning garb into something that would better fit in the village.

“How on earth did you slip out tonight?” James asked in surprise, brows raised to his hairline. “I would’ve though t they’d have had you under lock and key.”

“Everyone’s a bit... distracted, believe it or not,” you replied coolly, taking a seat at their table toward the back of the room. 

“So we hear,” Natalia leaned in. “Any news of the next king? I have a wager with the barkeep’s wife.”

“Anthony has an uncle who still lives,” Stephen supplied, taking a seat at your side. “Or so my companions informed me. Until Peter is of age, he would be the presumptive heir.”

“What do we know about him?” Natalia asked quietly, lowering her head conspiratorially. 

“Nothing,” you replied with a long sigh. “He’s been at the winter palace my whole life.”

“Nothing suspicious about that,” James shrugged and took a swallow of his drink. “Nat, what do ya think about Asgard this time of year?”

“Stop up James,” the redhead nudged her companion and returned her attention to you and Stephen. “And if he doesn’t give up the job in six months?” 

“He is removed,” Stephen replied bluntly.

“Yikes, you’re scary, did you know that?” James murmured. 

“I’ve been told,” the sorcerer grunted, flagging down a barmaid for a drink. He could already tell it was going to be a long night. 

“Don’t forget, you owe me,” you reminded him.  

“Lose a bet?” Natalia asked in amusement, eye rating between the duo.

“I caught him enchanting my tea without permission,” you replied. 

“Uh oh, broke the one rule,” Natalia mused, watching Strange for a reaction. 

“It was a protection spell, hardly worth mentioning, I cast them over the princess all the time,” he snorted under his breath. 

“All the time?” James asked in a voice low enough that only Stephen could hear. 

“That’s dangerous conjecture, Barnes,” Stephen warned. “My responsibilities include keeping my student, who happens to be the princess, safe.”

“If we were being honest, if I were kidnapped or traded away, it wouldn’t do much to the kingdom,” you reasoned, eagerly grabbing the first mug of ale before Stephen could take a sip. He waved a hand over the drink, ensuring it hadn’t been poisoned, before you took a long swallow. “Peter is the one who has to stay safe. Who knows where we’d be without a true heir?”

“You know that’s ridiculous,” Nat snorted. “Gods, you’re so dramatic sometimes.”

“My father’s funeral was today, give me a little sympathy,” you huffed in response, taking another swig of your drink. 

“To King Anthony,” James stood up, his voice bellowing through the pub. You ducked your head down into Stephen’s shoulder while onlookers cheered and joined in the toast. “May he rest in peace!”

The pub shouted in response, with steins clinking against one another and another song starting up. 

“We’re trying to draw attention away from the princess, you oaf,” Natalia muttered tersely toward James. 

“Who would be looking for her here?” the brunette assassin shrugged. “Besides, no one would be able to slip past the three of us.”

Stephen snorted under his breath, giving the room a quick glance to ensure any unwanted attention hadn’t been drawn toward them. James did have a point. Someone in hiding would seldom encourage a room to drink. 

Besides, he looked over at you laughing over something Natalia had said, you were genuinely smiling for the first time in weeks. The risk was worth a little relief.

He nursed at his drink while you signaled for another round for yourself and your friends. Stephen did well to avoid becoming drunk in your presence, mostly for your protection, but also as a means of avoiding embarrassing himself in front of you. 

The last thing he needed was you armed with an artillery of teasing that he couldn’t even recall.

As the booze flowed and the music picked up, James grabbed your hand and pulled you to the center of the room, dancing with some of the villagers to the upbeat song. 

Stephen watched, almost transfixed by the way you spun and twirled so lightheartedly to the sounds. As if you hadn’t a care in the world, and your life was back to the simpler time when he’d first met you.

“You’re drooling a little,” Natalia chuckled over his shoulder. 

Stephen’s head whipped around, unconsciously wiping at his mouth before scowling at the nosy redhead. 

“What are you talking about?” he asked, doing his best to keep his composure under her hard gaze. 

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed of,” she hummed, eyes falling where you and James continued your antics. “You’ve seen the man I’ve dedicated myself to.”

“You know the oaths I have to take,” he murmured. 

“Aren’t you the one in charge of said oaths?” she challenged coyly. “I’d never understood your antiquated ways. I would argue that loving another gives you more reason to stay dedicated to your craft.”

She had a point, Stephen reasoned to himself. The ways he’d worked to ensure your protection, the kingdom’s protection, and the advancement of his knowledge at your urging was beyond any work he’d done on his own at Kamar-Tai. 

Still, the distractions. The liabilities. 

By the Vishanti, if an enemy were to ever get their hands on you… oaths be damned. He’d burn the world to the ground to ensure your safety, and that was the problem.

“She’s going to marry a prince, and have kings and queens as babies,” Stephen replied coolly. "We have our roles and our duties.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind giving her a few babies,” Natalia smirked up at him, laughing when his face went as scarlet as her hair. 

“Regardless,” his voice cracked slightly, adding even more to the embarrassment when Natalia quirked a brow. “I would need permission from the king to consider breaking my oaths and wedding a princess.”

“Oh, you’d marry her? That’s a new development,” she replied, eyes falling behind him while you and James returned. 

“I’m going to need another ale,” you complained, staring down the empty mug after chugging down your second drink.

“You’re going to need to watch how much you drink,” Stephen replied. “Remember last time. The hungover elixir only works so well.”

“You have a hangover elixir?” James asked. “Gods, I’d murder a man for one of those. Maybe it’s time I go to Kamar-Taj. Find my true purpose.”

“Don’t look at me,” Stephen held up a hand. “Wong is the one who brews it. He claims it’s an old family recipe.”

“Might have to pay Master Wong a visit tonight,” James stated, sliding a pair of fresh ales toward you and Natalia. “This one’s on me.”

“Are you going to tell me which lord you stole the coin from?” you asked, sipping at the drink before Stephen could check its contents. 

“It’s the one with the wart on his nose,” James snickered behind his drink. “I picked him specifically because you mentioned he beats his wife.”

“He’s getting another visit from the Widow in a few nights,” Natalia added with a wicked grin.

“I don’t pity the man-,” you started coughing, trying to clear your throat. “-Ah, excuse me-!” 

Caught in a fit of coughs, Stephen’s focus became you. You couldn’t catch a breath, even when he tapped your back, and you hadn’t had anything to eat- the ale. A wave of his hand confirmed the liquid had been tampered with. 

“Find out who served that ale,” he demanded the assassins, grabbing your arm and hauling you outside of the pub. 

You gasped for air, clutching at your throat while he drew up a portal back to the observatory. If this was what was happening with the protection enchantment in your system, he hesitated to think of the alternative. 

Scooping you up, he stepped through and situated you on one of the chaise’s strewn throughout the room. 

He thumbed through his collection of vials before finding a generic antidote and opening your mouth to pour the liquid in. 

It worked- kind of. You were able to take a few shallow breaths, but your eyes rolled back and you collapsed, falling back against the chaise. 

This was literally his worse case scenario. Everything he’d been afraid of, because he’d let you convince him to go out, and because he’d distracted himself with his conversation with Natalia. 

He summoned a spell book, fingers finding the page he recalled from his apprentice days. It was written to purge someone of any toxic entities within them, be it poison or dark magic. Moving his hands through the air and reciting the runes, your body was overtaken by a wisp of winding yellow light. 

It threaded itself through you, eventually hitting the source of the poison in your chest and pulling the toxic liquid free in a cloud of rancid black smoke. That was peculiar. Generally such a reaction was associated with dark magic rather than a consumed poison. 

Poison was usually a dark red or green. 

You stirred the moment the spell had finished its work. Taking a deep breath and clearing your throat, you looked to Stephen in wide-eyed horror.

“I was wrong,” you stated, hand to your chest.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m not dying,” you answered quickly. “Stephen, I am so sorry… I underestimated my… wait, Peter.” 

Stephen understood your meaning immediately. He instructed you to stay within the safety of the observatory and opened a portal to the outside of the prince’s chambers. 

The knights on guard jumped at the sudden appearance of the sorcerer, who took no time for pleasantries.

“An attempt was made on the princess’ life,” he informed the duo. “Have you heard any disturbance from the prince?”

“No one has been in or out since the prince retired,” Sir Samuel informed him, looking to Sir Clinton with a shrug. “He hasn’t made a noise.”

Just as Samuel finished his sentence, there was a loud crash from within the room. 

The guards charged in, finding the prince in a struggle with a masked man. The prince was doing his best to fight off the dagger brandishing assassin, kicking him in the chest when he was distracted by the entrance of the guards.

When the assassin realized he was outnumbered, Stephen saw his hands move rapidly to open a portal, and before anyone could intervene, he was gone. 

“Your highness!” Samuel rushed to the prince’s side while Stephen ignited the candles in the room with a snap of his fingers. “Are you injured?” 

“Sir Clinton, get to the queen and Princess Morgan,” Peter ordered after catching his breath. He looked to Stephen. “And the older princess?” 

“Safe,” came the sorcerer’s response. 

“You said an attempt was made on her life,” Samuel retorted. 

“A what?” Peter glared up at the sorcerer. 

“I took care of it, she is safe,” Stephen assured him. “Are you injured, your highness?”

“I’m fine,” he brushed off the two men and stood up. “I want the guard awoken and informed of what has happened.”

He turned to Stephen.

“I want the wards reconstructed around the castle,” he continued. “I don’t trust the foundations of previous Masters. If you must call in sorcerers from Kamar-Taj, we will provide what they need.”

“Sir, your great uncle is due to arrive in a fortnight,” Samuel reminded him. “Shall we inform the convoy of the attempts on the royal family?”

Peter looked to Stephen with a frown. One of the young king’s first major decisions. 

“Let’s address the question in the morning,” he decided. “I want to know my family is safe.”

As if on cue, Queen Virginia and Princess Morgan were led into the room by Sir Clinton and Sir Steven. 

“Peter,” the queen pulled the prince into a relieved embrace. “Clint told us what had happened.”

“I recommend we reconvene in the throne room,” Steven suggested with a nervous glance around the chambers. 

“The wards are strongest there,” Stephen agreed with a curt nod. “I’ll go retrieve the princess.”

He returned to the observatory and found you sitting, staring down at the floor in deep thought. 

“Princess?” he called softly. You leapt up at his voice, hurrying over.

“Are they safe?”

“Peter was attacked, but he fought the assassin off,” Stephen informed her. 

“And mother? And Morgan?” you bit your bottom lip anxiously.

“Safe,” he confirmed. 

You let out a relieved sigh, your hands trembling slightly at your sides.

“Sir Steven suggested we go to the throne room to discuss our next options,” he offered his arm and she took it gratefully. 

He hoped she didn’t feel his own tremors. His own panic at the thought of losing her. The aftershocks of their new reality and his worst nightmare.

“I won’t allow this to happen again,” he promised her quietly. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” you assured him, your voice was shaky. “I was hurting, and whoever did this, acted on our vulnerabilities. I’d been selfish to hide in the village when I should have been by my family.”

“You slipped up once,” he countered, slowing his pace down the hall. He could have easily drawn a portal to the room, but he figured you both needed some time to manage your emotions. “You’re human. We make mistakes. It just happened we both made a mistake at the same time tonight. I wouldn’t have allowed you to go if I hadn’t been confident in my judgement of the situation.”

Your hand trailed down to his and you gave it a squeeze. 

“Thank you Stephen,” you murmured, holding on a moment longer before replacing it on his arm. 

He felt his heart give a small throb at the minute action, his fingers left tingling, and not from the damage from the accident.

“Always at your pleasure, your highness.”

(---)

3 - a new day

TAG LIST (Message to be added to this fic or my general tag list!):

@ayamenimthiriel @drstrangely-strange-deactivated @ladynothing @im-a-bi-disaster-help​ @idkwhatthisislol​ 

[mydriases]

Leona, Riddle and Vil with a painter s/o + unique magic

Anon asked: If it's okay I'd like to request headcanons for Leona Vil and Riddle where their artistic s/o asks if she can paint a portrait of them and it comes out wonderfully, showing beautiful details highlighting their best features not to mention in the painting it seems as if you could walkt into the painting (bonus points if her magic brings people into the painting if they touch it) have a good one

Don’t touch the paintings, kids.

Leona Kingscholar

It is a difficult thing to have leona stay still for a while, so it was a surprise for you when he agreed to be your model

You didn't expect him to fall asleep, though. Of course, you knew he had this rather useful ability to fall asleep at the speed of light but still

Anyway you could see the details of his face so it was fine for you

When you finished the paiting because your talent is to paint at the speed of light, you woke him up and of course he asked you to see the result

You said no because the beauty of the painting is in the details and your work was far from over.

The next day, you had covered the dry paint with a light veil so as to reveal it in a dramatic gesture at Leona's sight.

He had never seen one of your painting before, some sketches scattered on your desk had sometimes entered his field of vision but he paid no mind. He knew you prefered to exhibit your best pieces only and he respected that.

The fact that he had no expectations greatly amplifield his astonishment when he saw what you had painted.

The colours complemented each other harmoniously, and he'd never looked more attractive, he wondered if that's how you saw him.

Proud boyfriendTM , you may not have seen it directly but he would be so impressed !

He patted you on the head and complimented you till you collapsed of embarrassment/till your ego mutltipled by three. Usually the praise was hidden behind some sort of teasing so it was there but not so bluntly said, you probably never felt more pround of your work than when he praised it.

And he hadn’t even seen the best part yet !

“Come closer, you can touch it if you want ! You know, to feel the details and all…”

You didn’t tell him exactly what was your unique magic, he knew it was linked to painting of course, but he never thought that it would transport him into the painting in itself !

He was in his room, the same he was just a moment ago. But he knew, when he looked at the orange tone of the sky, that this wasn’t reality.

“Sooo, what do you think about this ?” you chimed, and Leona noticed he wasn’t alone anymore.

“Not bad, amazing if I’m honest. How long are we going to stay here ?”

“We still have a lot of time, we can’t leave this room but... “

There was a knowing glance from Leona as he walked towards you. In this place where no one could know how to reach you, you linked you fingers to Leona’s and prayed that your magic will be able to stay stable for what was going to come.

Riddle Rosehearts

The trickiest thing was to find moments to paint him since he always had something to do as the dorm leader of Heartlabyul. Thanks to Trey though, one day you were able to steal Riddle away from his duties.

You could see in his facial expression the sheer pleasure of being your model. The head held high, the features of his face frozen as if not to confuse you with a sudden change of expression. Once again, you realized how beautiful your boyfriend was.

He seemed to feel that your look lingered a bit longer than usual as he glanced at you, but you were already working again.

“Riddle ?” you interrupted him in the evening while he was working “Do you want me to show you something awesome ?”

“I’d like to but following the rule num-”

You were already gone before he could use the same old sentence to justify a decline. You knew he’ll be curious since you usually followed the rules in order to not uspet him.

You made him play cat and mouse: disappearing at each end of the corridor so that he knew where you were going but didn't catch up with you.

Then, when he reached the room where your painting was hanging, you were not there anymore. A single note was left next to the painting : “Touch it”. He did what was told as his portrait smiled at him.

The room was replaced by what looked like the area where the Unbirthday parties are held. Scarlet roses were more numerous than usual, making any other color that dared to compete with it pale, bland even. In the center, the table where he always sat was prepared, the silver cutlery shining brighter than ever. He saw your figure sittting in his place, you invited him to come closer with a movement of your hand.

“I tried to put more emphasis on red than I usually do, because it matches with Heartslabyul, you know ? But I may have went a bit too far. Now, everything seems dull in comparison.”

He came next to you and sat in a nearby chair while observing the surroundings.

 “I don’t think so. It was a portrait of me in the first place, it’s normal the main color is red. If we think this way, the dull colors compliment well the painting. Good job.”

You thought that his remark was really similar to the ones he would tell you when he was grading your  homework. Encouraging as always.

“Someday, I’ll able to build bridges between my paintings. Imagine ! One day, even if I’m from the other side of the world, we could meet in a nice place like there. Till then, you can come here when you want to be assured to be tranquil. Put your portrait in your bedroom to have a fast escape from the world.”

“I thought my magic was powerful but your is another kind of power, love.”

He kissed your forehead and took your hand, leading you to the gate of the garden. He understood that even though years will pass, even though your talents in your art and in your magic will improve ; he’ll still go in this place. You might try to replace that portrait -you’d call hideous- with a better painting, but Riddle will always be more attached to the first one you offered him.

Vil Schoenheit

You never should have asked him, he’ll never come out of the bathroom again.

“Vil, love, please I just need to wash m-”

“No.”

If he was going to be immortalized in your art forever, he might as well dress up to the nines.

He wanted everything to be perfect. Choosing the scenery up to the lighting of the room so his complexion would be magnificient.

You had to interrupt him to let him know that you'd already chosen the place where you're were going to paint him. To your surprise, he directly accepted and let himself be guided to the place you had chosen.

You blushed at how cliché all of this was : a field of mauve flowers just for the two of you. That seemed really romantic in idea but now that you were actually there with Vil you found that it was a bit too much.

Is there really a too much with Vil though ? As he sat down on the chair you had prepared for him, his silvery voice let you know that this place was lovely.

Vil once told you that he’ll never lie to you. So maybe he didn't mean what he said, but he certainly didn't mind the decor. Alright, no need to fret, it’s time to work.

There are chances that Vil would not like what you thought while you were painting him : the truth is, you almost forgot how beautiful this man is. When you see the face of someone everyday, no matter that they’re beautiful or unsightly, their face just become a part of your everyday. You could still see the delicacy of Vil’s features but you were used to it.

You didn’t observe him before painting him. Sure he spent a long time in the bathroom, as usual, however it was now evident that he couldn’t have shortened his preparation.

Maybe it was useless to paint him since he was already looking like the masterpierce you studied to improve. You couldn't honor such a face. Vil would see what you did of his perfect features and stay silent, because he told you he’ll never lie.

Watching him as his gaze was lost in the distance, you despised yourself for thinking that painting a person for whom beauty was a priority would be a smart idea.

“Don’t worry, love. I know your skills and there’s a reason I accepted to be your model. No pressure, I’ll be proud of you no matter what.”

Before you fell in love with him, it always surprised you how gentle Vil could be. After you became friends, he would often speak with you of his admiration for the Queen. You understood with time that he wanted the Pomefiore students to make as much efforts as she did and that was why he had such a severe attitude.

“Thanks, Vil. I'll paint your portrait with the utmost care.”

He chuckled and no birds could have created a more melodious sound.

The day after, once the finishing touches were done, you led him to your room and showed him his portrait. He stayed silent for a long minute, his eyes traveling every inch of the painting, gauging colours and shadow. He looked up at you and you patiently waited for him to say something.

Finally, one of his hands came and put a lock of hair behind your ear as he whispered congralutations to you.

Of course, you went in the painting with him. The flower field was now immortalized forever in this place, the edge of the forest standing as the only boundary between reality and the two of you.

[vln-vibes]

Birds of a Feather (Sometimes Fly Together)

aka the time @anjuschiffer and I got a big brain moment and this happened.

So, we know that in canon Barbara Keynes (Knightowl) comes from money, presumably adopted or something but nonetheless a rich kid from New York. We also know that our dear ol’ broody vigilante was a playboy in his youth (still is) so whose not to say that he and Barbara didn’t hook up and boom; Jessica is born.

So our dear Jessica Martha Keynes (Wayne) may or may not have developed a bit of a crush on the scarlet hero of Paris during her stay. She hadn’t meant to! But damn those bluebell eyes...

See she and Aeon had decided to help the Marinette and Adrien get together, with prompting from the questionable Alya and complacent Nino; she had time to kill.

However, nothing was working

Aeon even used the same trick her mom used on Jess’ (The whole romantic shebang!)

It wasn’t even until after the whole Hawkmoth trying to cause nuclear warfare thing that they were made aware that Adrien had a girlfriend already (And that was because she and Marinette were friends! Marinette was facetiming her for a souvenir she wanted!!)

Also if it had been her she’s sure she would have mentioned or talked to her significant other while she was away... But that wasn’t her problem to deal with.

During her last night in New York, Uncanny Valley, Aquila and Ladybug go on patrol; a week of hanging together and they’d miss their new friend.

Aquila stayed behind for just one second, thinking about the whole rollercoaster that happened when she spotted it.

U.V and Ladybug had been bantering, a bright laugh escaping Ladybug as she soared through the New York skyline. The moon reflecting perfectly off of her midnight black hair and making her eyes brighter.

Her heart skipped a beat

She was so fucked

It did not help that somehow the internet got photos of Sparrow with Ladybug and got #Sparrowbug #Luckybird

Jess manages to contain her crush, much to Aeon’s amusement, as they (well mostly for her sake) continue to communicate with Marinette/Ladybug. She wanted to go and help in Paris but she knew her mother wouldn’t approve and she REALLY didn’t want to clue in her nosey father and brothers and sisters in on it.

They’d been concerned as with the passing of time not only did Marinette look and sound more and more tired but Hawkmoth seemed to be improving with the Akumas and Mayura seemed to be making stronger (if more sparse) Sentimonsters. Jess even questions Aeon’s programming about Ladybug and Chat Noir after numerous incidents where Noir is a no show, Ladybug on her own or having to call upon Ryuuko or Bunnix (an unknown hero they’ve been told could travel through time).

And it came crashing on night;

It was a regular night of patrol between Aquila and Uncanny Valley, she’d been training with the Guardian (seriously the man just said she’d learn his name when she was ready!) and was able to sense an active Miraculous nearby

She was surprised to see Ladybug standing on the roof she was about to land on.

“Hey guys! How have you been? I’m just here for a quick visit. Wow it’s still night here well yeah duh time zones and all that though it doesn’t feel like much but that’s probably cause I just teleported here and all that. Oh magic can be so weird but you know how things go—”

She could tell straight away that Ladybug was tense and was a bad liar, it seemed her sister had a similar idea;

“Ladybug? Is everything alright?” 

Her words seemed to have struck a cord as the girl’s bluebell eyes began to water, closing in on herself as the tears began to fall. 

Aquila practically flew over to console the crying hero, wanting to do nothing more than pass on the pain to herself than watch the girl suffer. She hasn’t seen her this down even as they believed Chat Noir had abandoned her in their mission

“C’mon LB, you can stay the night with us “

Ladybug didn’t even respond as she seemed so emotionally tired to both the sisters concerns, Uncanny gently taking the girl in her arms as Aquila wondered what had happened to cause the girl to fall like this.

Barbara and Olympia were surprised when the girls came home early from patrol only to see Ladybug with them, very much dazed and looking so so tired. They were even more surprised when her transformation dropped revealing the frazzled Marinette Dupain Cheng.

Olympia quickly got the girls some snacks, knowing the Kwamii would need it after months with Lirii, and got to taking out any spare clothes that could fit the petite girl.

Barbara just say there and listened as Marinette seemed to come to after a cup of tea, the girl recounting all the events that led her to the way they found her

Hawkmoth’s attacks seemed more centered on tiring the heroes out. Mayura seemed to create more powerful sentimonsters though however more scattered they got.

Chat Noir was becoming a no show, at least five battles in a row with no appearance. She had to get help from Ryuuko (the only hero not to be outed by Queen Wasp) and Bunnyx. She admitted to have chosen a new Fox on one occasion though she didn’t want to risk Hawkmoth finding out about them.

Her training as Guardian, her career as a designer and manning her commissions as MDC, the pulling responsibilities as class rep since their teacher couldn’t do much “in her state” and the bullying she was suffering that seemed to pick up again after arriving back in Paris

It was all too much

Then she confronted Chat Noir after finally making an appearance in the latest battle; apparently he realized that he couldn’t get over her, that they were always destined to be

That wasn’t even including the fact that he was still irresponsible, still playing around too may when he knew she could only do so much!

She felt so close to bursting that she told Kalkki to send her somewhere safe; safe was apparently in New York

By the end of her rant she felt a weight come off of her chest , she hadn’t been able to express her emotions like that for years in Paris.

“I think it’s time we get the League involved”

The small family looked surprised as Jessica dreaded what her mother’s words could mean

“The League?” “Yes, the Justice League”

The girls were sent off to rest as the mothers strategized on how to bring this up to the League without having them try to take over for the young hero; Barbara usually didn’t like cashing in favors but she knew he’d at least think before leaping into action.

Meanwhile Aeon decided to “optimize her sleep for the night” and take up her whole bed while resting the night.

Unfortunately for Jess’ heart this meant sharing a bed with Marinette; mostly because both refused to let the other sleep on the couch and because the guest rooms were being repainted for some reason (Aeon may or may not have gotten too excited one day and destroyed a wall or two)

“Thank you for everything Jess”

“No problem Birb”

“Birb?” “You know, Ladybird? Birb? Birb”

Not even half an hour later, Aeon sat up with the ominous words of; “They’re here”

Marinette didn’t even have the time to worry about who or what she was talking about when Jess groaned.

The girl quickly threw one of her Feathers (Her weapons while she was Sparrow) that was quickly grabbed by a shadow before reaching the balcony window. When was it even opened??

“Tt, thought you would have tried better sister “

“Yeah and what gives, I would have thought you would have told us about some world ending problem that happened when we were in space instead of it trending on Twitter!”

“Uhh guys I think Jessie might have a guest over”

“Oh shit I didn’t even know she had any friends other that R2-D2 over here”

“Oh fuck off! Like you have any room for talking!”

Marinette watched, thinking that she surely must be dreaming , as the masked figures continued to banter and fight amongst each other and with Jess.

“Wait you have brothers? .... Aren’t they the Gotham vigilantes??”

This was how Marinette discovered just how close Jessica’s life really intertwined with Truth, Justice and the Night.

Part Two

[pl-panda]

To Marry a Vigialnte: Part 16

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 16

-----------

Chloé couldn’t believe it! They forced her to stay in Gotham Academy’s girls’ dorms. That witch Lila managed to talk Madame Bustier into stopping her from leaving. Marinette had her mother’s permission to stay elsewhere, but apparently, the change in accommodation plans invalidated Chloé’s father’s permission. She would resolve it with a single phone call if someone didn’t steal her phone . She of course tried to report it to Madame Bustier, but her teacher declared that she must’ve lost it somewhere and she shouldn’t be shifting the blame on others. 

That woman’s picture should be in every dictionary, right next to the definition of a hypocrite.

She turned the corridor. She could sleep one evening there and tomorrow Marinette would let her borrow the phone. She could try with one of the girls, but it’s not like she remembered every phone number in existence! She regretted that the akuma attack ruined their plans for the afternoon, but Damian had sword-fighting practice tomorrow and she would have her friend all to herself. 

“You’re Chloé, right?” A blonde cheerleader asked. The Parisian immediately recognized her as Erica and narrowed her eyes. There were five of them and one of her. 

“And you’re the Queen B. of this school. For now .” 

The Gothamite princess had the guts to actually laugh. “You can’t even touch me. You’re just some foreign student that came here on a whim of the Ice Prince.”

“Oh, right. You’re the golden princess of this school.” Chloé mocked her. “Lemme tell you something, Erica. I’ll offer you an escape deal. You leave Damienette alone and you can keep your position on top.”

“Yeah. Like you could be a threat.” A new voice joined. From behind the cheerleaders, a new girl walked. Lila now wore the cheerleader uniform too. “You’re just a walking akuma factory. It’s really no wonder that people avoid you. You caused more possessions in Paris than everyone else combined.”

“And you hold the record for times being akumatized.” The Parisian blonde retorted. “Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! You think you can take the Chloé Bourgeois?”

“Oh! We don’t think…” Erica started.

“We know.” Lila finished. 

“The deal is simple. You will stop your friendship with Maribrat and we will let you keep some dignity.” 

“Or we will make you a social outcast. Not only at school, but in the whole of Gotham.”

Inside, Chloé was raging. She wished she could show them what Cass taught her, but she quelled the idea quickly. I definitely spend too much time with Sabine and the Waynes… She thought to herself. Instead, she grinned. “You know the difference between a threat and a warning?”

“What are you babbling about?” One of the cheerleaders snorted. 

“A warning is a threat that will actually come to pass. And I warn you. You’re messing with fire here. Damian was raised very old-fashioned. He will draw blood to defend the honor of his angel.” She decided that they could receive a warning. It’s not like they would listen. “And Marinette’s aunt is very well connected.” Then, she decided to drive the nail deeper. “Plus, MDC’s client list is quite long and none would appreciate that you try to bully their favorite designer.”

“Like that doormat…” Lila started, but Chloé tested the glare Cass taught her. It worked well enough. 

“You’re not dealing with Maribear. You’re dealing with me. And I’m not going to lose.” 

“What’s going on here?” Allegra walked toward them and stood next to Chloé. 

“Scatter.” Lila snapped at her. 

“Funny. I was about to say the same thing,” she retorted. Now she stood side by side with Chloé and both stared at them. Allegra had an aura of confidence around her. 

“Be careful who you stick with, Kane. You’ll do well not to antagonize me.”

“Just because your mother married a famous baseball player doesn’t make me respect you more, Boyle.” 

“It’s Layton ,”The angry cheerleader corrected. 

“Right. I must’ve forgotten. She does change her last name a lot…” Allegra smiled. 

“You’re in over your head, Kane. You’ll do better to stay with your little outcast club.”

“Nah. I’m good. Also, don’t you have practice in five minutes? I heard the coach is in a mood today.” The mayor’s daughter smirked. “It would be a shame if he made you run around with the players.” 

This made all the girls quickly scatter to get to the practice, leaving Lila and Erica alone. “You’ve just made an enemy, Kane.” 

“You’re an inconvenience at best…” She dismissed the threat. Lila decided to cut their losses and dragged the fuming Erica away, sending the two blondes a murderous glare.

“Thanks for the backup,” Chloé started. “Of course I didn’t need any, but still.”

“No problem. I always hated that self-appointed princess.” 

“And have you seen her hair?” The Parisian huffed. “Utterly Ridiculous!”

“And I’m pretty sure her dress is too short by the school standards.”

Chloé smirked. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”

-----------

After Bruce returned, they tried to figure out what was taken from the inside of the vault. Out of various precious weapons, documents, several property deeds, the only thing that was missing turned out to be the content of the wall safe. 

During the night patrol, Marinette and Damian scoured the city for potential akumas. While he dealt with criminals, she often stopped by the victims to calm them and gave some support. After serious butt-kicking for the criminals. It just wouldn’t do for Damian to get all the fun. The superhero/vigilante duo (nobody was sure which one, not even them) made a positive first impression on the city. Citizens seemed to like them, both for their efficiency and how they always stopped to talk. 

After, Marinette noted that their transformations could hold for much longer now since they were together in this. When asked, Tikki explained that now that she had Chat Noir that was mature and they were technically both adults as far as magic was concerned, she could start developing her full potential. 

After the short report to Alfred, the teens left the Batcave to change into pajamas. Marinette fell asleep almost immediately, but Damian stayed awake for a bit. He swore he would protect his Habibti. No matter how far he would have to go. 

-----------

Marinette and Damian had roughly half of their classes together. Sadly, she didn’t share too much with her best friend, since Chloé was more into business management than arts and fashion. It was mostly the problem of the level. Classes that Marinette had at beginner, the Parisian blonde had at a higher level and vice-versa.

When she arrived at her class, Claude and Jon were saving her a place between them, which would help to protect her from the classmates that ended in the same group. There were also several GA students that she would rather not sit close to (Erica’s bunch). Generally speaking, the first part of her day went well. 

The same couldn’t have been said about Damian. He, Chloé, and Allegra were saddled with the class. And to his utter dread, there were no free places next to each other. They tried to ask some students to move. Well, Damian tried to threaten them, which worked, but too late. The teacher entered and decided to put Damian between Alya and Lila. It was as if the universe was punishing him for something. He suspected that Mister Scarlet did that on purpose to egg him. With this one, he had no idea what he did to make him dislike the Wayne heir. But the way he acted toward him made it clear that he took pleasure in the situation Damian was put in: Between Alya’s nagging to leave Marinette and ‘return’ to Lila, and the Liar who kept whispering stories about their common past. 

Finally, after they got to go for lunch, Damian stormed out of the class. Everyone in the corridor made way for him. His scowl was enough to deter anyone from trying to approach him. Well, anyone but Maps.

“Damian! You’re back!” She leaped at him and it took all of his willpower not to draw a sword. 

“Tt. Mizoguchi. It’s not the best moment.” He growled. 

“But you’re back! Did the headmaster cancel your expulsion!?”

“No. He just forgot to file the expulsion files within the week of the offense. Ergo, I was never expelled. I just joined the exchange program.” He explained. 

Her eyes practically shined. “Coooool.” 

“Tt. Can you let go of my arm?” He was really hoping it would work. 

“Nope. I just met you again. We’re glued.” 

“Sup Dames?” Claude chose that moment to appear.

“Tt. I’ve got a parasite.”

“That I can see!” The other boy laughed. Most people were still steering clear from Wayne and whoever was with him. They valued their health for the most part. 

“I’m not a parasite. I’m Maps!” The girl greeted Claude, who in turn made an exaggerated bow. 

“And I’m Claudius Chase. But please call me Claude.” He made a mock fighting stance. “Like Jean-Claude Van Damme.” 

“More like Jack Clown van Lame,” Damian muttered. “Your stance is all wrong. I could take you out in seconds.”

“Of course you could. You’re b…” The Wayne heir covered her mouth with his hand. 

“Tt. Not here. Now if you would let go of my hand, you parasite, I’m sure Habibti is waiting for me.” 

“Habibti?” She asked after letting go.

“His girlfriend.”

You could actually see Maps’ eyes form into twin stars. “Can I meet her? Can I meet her?”

“Since when are you into fashion?”

“Huh? Who said anything about fashion. She’s your girlfriend though, which means she must be sooo cooool!” Maps was practically vibrating. 

“Hero worship much?” Claude joked.

“Tt. Fine. Let’s go.”

The three arrived at the Cafeteria, where Allegra, Chloé, Jon, and Felix were already eating. They had lasagna that day. Quite a lot of people were whispering when Damian appeared, more so than usual, but nobody dared to look at him. When he sat at the table next to Marinette, they did their best not to stare.

“Grumpy Cat?” She asked, a bit worried. “You’re… tense.” 

“Tt. Because of that socially-inept, talentless, petty bookworm,” he seethed, “I had to sit between Rossi and Cesaire.” 

Immediately, Marinette pulled him into a tight hug. “Oh, my poor Kitty.”

This caused some of the gathered, who knew Damian from the previous year, to immediately tense. Some of the students sitting nearby (mostly females) even grinned, thinking that here died the relationship. There was no way that Ice Prince would allow anyone to refer to him as Kitty. Getting him on the first-name basis was considered a privilege allowed only to the family (and strangely Claude). 

To their immeasurable surprise, Damian didn’t explode. Instead, he melted slightly into the hug and some of the anger left him. It wasn’t a long hug, but after it, he was now acting less like a walking grenade looking for its pin. At least three people awwed at them. It was just too pure.

“Whoah!” And then there was Maps, who had the subtlety of a steam-train speeding through the Wild West. “You’re so cute together!” She zoomed next to Marinette to get a better look.

“And you’re…” Marinette eyed the overly energetic girl. She was short, with hair that reached barely below her ears. 

“Mia Mizoguchi. But you can call me Maps. I’m Damian’s friend.” 

“Tt. More like a stray.”

“Damian! Don’t be a Grumpy Cat.”

“Besides, isn’t collecting strays kinda a Wayne Tradition at this point.” Felix deadpanned. Everyone started laughing. Damian gave a dignified smirk. The blond proved to be able to match him in intellectual discussion, which gave some basis for mutual respect between them. 

The group talked a bit more about their classes. Marinette and Chloé compared every detail of their experience in the States with what it was like back in Paris. Maps was a fountain of questions, even if some of them were a bit… strange. But Marinette still felt she would like the little girl. That she was in the same class as her surprised her. 

After lunch came time for more classes. When they finished, Damian was supposed to stay for training while Marinette and Chloé would go shopping. They were already outside the gates when three rather packed teens from the year ahead stepped in their way. 

“You think you can steal Erica’s man and then threaten her?” The one in the middle asked. It was clear he was angry and not exactly thinking clearly. “Gotham Academy Grackles stay together. If you think you can just prance here and take over, you have another thing coming.”

“Um… Sure.” Mari just nodded. “Now excuse me while I go away.” She tried to move past them, but one decided to make a fatal mistake of trying to grab the front of her shirt. She raised her left arm under the grip, lifting his hand slightly. It exposed his stomach for the moment, which she took full advantage of and delivered a knee-kick to his liver. When he folded in half from the pain, as much as he could with her still supporting his hand, she then used her right arm to deliver a cutter toward the back of his head.

The boy was out cold in less than five seconds. 

Seeing their friend attacked, the other two charged at her. Marinette ducked under the punch from the first one and headbutted him in the stomach. She then wrapped her arms around his left legs and lifted him up. He fell on the ground and tripped the slower one. When they both were down, Marinette stomped on the hand of the one on top. There was an audible crack that signaled she managed to damage the bones. He would not be fighting. The one under tossed his pained friend away and jumped on his feet. He managed to get Marinette in a chokehold, but she pushed her arms between his extended arms and spread them apart. When he was exposed, she jumped up and kicked him with both legs. While she landed without any injury, the bigger player crashed into his two friends. 

“The police are on their way,” Chloé informed, putting away the phone that mysteriously found itself in her possession earlier that morning, giving more credence to the theory that she simply misplaced it. 

“What’s going on here!” A harsh voice boomed behind them. Hammerhead was standing there in all his glory. “To my office. All five.” 

“Maman’s going to be here in just five minutes,” Mari informed him. She was still full of adrenaline. 

“I don’t care.” He seethed in response. 

The only conscious boy helped his friends stand up. First the one with a broken hand, then they lifted the unconscious one together. They limped through the campus toward where the office was located. Behind them, Marinette and Chloé walked with heads held high. Tomorrow, the school would be full of gossip, but the bluenette was all too used to it by now and the blonde would run her PR magic to change it into something positive. Chloé loved playing the crowd. 

--------

“I’m here.” Sabine practically stormed inside the office. “Now could you explain, sir, what is it about?”

“Your daughter got into an… altercation with older students today. Right in front of the school.” Headmaster Hammer started.

“Ah. And you’re curious if we’ll be pressing charges?” The woman asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Charges?” She managed to baffle the man. 

“Attempted assault?”

“Madame. You misunderstood me. Your daughter…”

“Defended herself. Yes.” Sabine cut in, her eyes filled with cold fury. “Unless I’m mistaken, Self-defence is not a crime.”

“You can’t call self-defense stomping on…”

“To prevent further fighting? Debatable. She is smaller, physically weaker, and was outnumbered. A good lawyer would argue that it was necessary for her to act that way for her safety and to avoid further fighting.” She stared down at the headmaster. “As for the charges…”

At that, two officers walked in. Hammer recognized the first one as Renee Montoya. The other was a blonde officer wearing a tactical vest.

“Sorry, it took so long. We’ve been a little short-staffed since the mess with akumas started.”

“Don’t worry. Luckily, my daughter managed to defend herself. Now, officer, what must we do if we wish to press charges?” Sabine asked with a cold voice, never breaking eye-contact with the headmaster. 

“That…”

“I’ll explain everything while officer Sawyer takes the attackers into custody.” 

“Thank you so much.” The older woman finally broke the eye-contact and turned toward Montoya. She smiled with her usual peaceful smile, but the fire was still in her eyes. “My daughter is part of the exchange program while I’m visiting my niece.”

Marinette was stunned by how well her mother could take control of the situation. She wasn’t sure what precisely she was doing, but it was definitely effective. 

“Foreigners?” The officer asked, surprised. “I could hardly hear the accent. France?”

“Yes. Paris.” Sabine smiled. “Neither I nor any of my charges are really familiar with the procedures here.”

“I will walk you through it. Headmaster?” The policewoman finally acknowledged the elderly man in the room. “Were the parents of the culprits notified yet?”

“Not. Yet.” He muttered through clenched teeth.

“We will take it from here.” She smirked at the headmaster. “You will be notified if any further input is needed, sir.” She started to walk away and motioned for the three women to follow her. 

Outside, Damian was waiting with a sword. Luckily, there was no blood on it. Yet .

“Hello, Kitty. Don’t worry. I’ve managed it.” 

“Tt. I’ll still challenge them to an honor duel.” He scoffed. 

“You will probably have to wait a bit. I don’t think…” The officer took a glance at Sabine, who even with her smile looked like she was ready to fight God on equal footing. “They probably won’t be coming back to school this year.” 

“They won’t.” Chloé, Sabine, and Damian said at the same time. But they probably had different things in mind. Or maybe just Chloé…

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

  Masterlist // Next

[bugsandchatons]

when you weren’t mine to lose (5)

Summary: Change is a scary thing, especially when it feels like nothing has stayed the same.

It’s been a year since Marinette became the Guardian of the Miracle Box - a year of struggling beneath a burden she never asked for, a weight that has her leaning on her partner more and more as the hours fly by, of letting him come to her, too, when he needs a soft place to land. A year of falling for the boy who takes on the world by her side with a smile made of sunlight, and fighting the growing urge to tell him what he means to her.

After all, they’ll have time enough for that when Paris is safe.

But when the unthinkable happens, Marinette learns the tragedy of loving someone quietly, and the lines she’ll cross to save him.

[[AO3]] {from the beginning}

*****

[five: where the light goes]

Tikki had tried to warn her, to the best of the kwami’s knowledge, what it might be like when the Akuma took over. The nature of the Butterfly Miraculous was to influence, she’d said, not total control - when used negatively it was strong in its coercion, but not irresistible. 

Still, Marinette’s not sure if she could have fully prepared herself for the heavy fog that rolls in over her mind, blurring everything but the violet splash of the butterfly sigil in front of her eyes. 

Hold on to your purpose. Go back, change the timeline, save Chat Noir.

Over and over, until the words stuck.

“Ladybug,” the smooth voice that washes over her is a horribly familiar one, now. “I must admit, I’d begun to wonder if this day would ever come.”

She clenched her fingers into fists. Hold on. Go back. Save him.

“Your partner has died,” Hawkmoth says. The cold flash of agony that ripples through her is muted, pushed back and away somewhere in the distance. “So our purposes have aligned for the time being. We’ve both lost someone who, together, we can restore. Bring me both the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous and we can fix it. You need me to put everything back as it should be.”

Ladybug takes a deep breath in. His request is a siren song; the need to comply is just as strong as the tidal wave of her own anger, her own misery. She buries them together and, little by little, the fog recedes. 

Go back. Save him. 

Despite how it might feel otherwise, he only had as much power over her as she allowed him. She’s Ladybug, and even broken, she would not bend to any will other than her own. “You’re right about that,” her voice sounds far away to even her own ears, “but your plan won’t work. Chat’s Miraculous is broken.”

For a moment, he’s quiet. She can feel it when his disbelief gives way to fury in a steady, rising throb behind her eyes. “I can fix it, but not within the limits of my own Miraculous.” She lets this hang in the air, but still, Hawkmoth says nothing. Ladybug continues, “But I’ve seen what you did for Queen Bee. When she was akumatized, nothing stopped her from using her powers as widely and often as she wished. With the enhancement of your Akuma, I could fix everything.”

“Very well,” Hawkmoth concedes, his voice ringing with displeasure. She feels the leaping need to appease him, but she can control it - she has him. He’s listening to her now. “The Miraculous you wear grants you the power of creation, but even our powers have their restrictions. Without limits, you are unstoppable. Fix what has been destroyed, and then you will bring the Miraculous to me.” She feels his smile and the smugness that radiates from it. “You and I aren’t so different after all, are we?”

The fog threatens, shifting closer and looming at the edge of her vision. The pain behind her eyes blossoms until she’s nearly seeing stars.

Through it all, she can feel Hawkmoth’s glee. He believes he’s already won. Even now, that’s what matters most to him - bringing back the boy he’s convinced is his son is secondary to besting Ladybug. It makes her sick.

Go back. Save him. The thought calls Chat to mind, sharp and clear despite the press of shadows; all bright green eyes and beatific smiles. It’s the best thing to take with her, Ladybug thinks, as she finally falls.

She closes her eyes and gives herself over to the touch of his dark magic until she’s immersed in an icy cold that steals her breath. For a moment, she struggles - submerged, trapped beneath the surface - before she uncurls her fingers, one by one, and lets go.

It ends almost as quickly as it came over her, and then she’s not quite Ladybug any more.

“Hmm. What shall we call you, then?”

She presses a hand over her own racing heart and rises to her feet. The name comes to her at once and she takes it, branding herself before he can do it for her. “Ouroboros.”

“Ahh, creation and destruction, life and death. An interesting choice. Now,” he commands, “fix his Miraculous.”

There it is again - the overwhelming tug to give in. She’s not sure if she could fix Chat’s Miraculous, even now. It’s tempting to try.

“I’m afraid that’s not what I’ve got planned.” The pounding behind her eyes intensifies, and she grits her teeth against the split of pain. “We are not the same, Hawkmoth. I won’t sacrifice a life to save another. I will find a way to save him, though.” 

She had what she wanted, now; a do-over, a second chance.

Reset the clock. Go back. Save Chat Noir.

She clasps her forearms - one hand finds the Snake Miraculous on her left wrist, the other curls protectively over Chat’s ruined ring, tied to her right.

Creation and destruction, she thinks. Together, always.

The end of everything, or the beginning of it.

She closes her eyes and thinks of where the light goes when the night inevitably comes to claim it, and of the sun’s sure return to chase the dark away, An indomitable circle, infinite in its ability to rise again and again. With that in mind, her pain ebbs away to nothing.

*****

The next time Ouroboros opens her eyes, it’s a new day - or, perhaps more accurately, an old one. She gasps, drawing in shallows breaths of cold morning air once, twice, before exhaling and rubbing her palms over her temples. The heavy fog in her mind is gone, as is the agonizing pressure of Hawkmoth’s power struggle.

“When you jump back in time, Hawkmoth should no longer have a hold over you,” Tikki had told her. Like Timetagger, Ouroboros remembers. He’d left the man holding his leash behind, and so had she.

So far, so good.

She looks first down at herself, then at the statue of Ladybug and Chat Noir, lit to sparkling as the dawn breaks. In the shining bronze, she can see what has become of herself. 

Her suit changed. Where there’d always been red and black spots were now soot-black scales, as though she’d been doused in fire and risen from embers. A violent splash of color streaks down a single line from chest to belly, scarlet like a red-bellied snake - a clear warning that this new species was venomous. The mask over her eyes looks as if it's been painted to her nose and cheekbones in charcoal.

In ashes.

She turns away and glances dispassionately down at her gloved hands. She’d need a disguise if she wanted to traverse the city.

As if in answer to the very thought, a dark hooded coat materializes in her waiting palms. Ouroboros supposes she has the limitless powers of creation to thank for it. She pulls it on over her head and lifts the hood to cover her hair. Her reflection in the statue shows her that, while not quite incognito, she could now make her way across Paris without immediately causing a panic.

The urge to seek Chat out and tuck him away somewhere safe is an overpowering one. To just see him, even, would be enough.

She has hours before the battle. She knows what she should do: find a place to hide, at least until school lets out, then place herself near enough to Trocadéro to watch for Mirror Image’s akumatization. Tikki had warned her not to be seen until she had to be - that any changes to the course of the day before the Akuma battle could affect her ability to change what she had to when the time came. She knows when and where Ladybug will be throughout the day to avoid her, but Chat -

Ouroboros pauses, her breath hitching in her chest. She knows where Chat Noir is right now.

Everything else vanishes. With only that in mind, she runs across the park, scales the building across from the bakery, and perches - just one shadow among many on the rooftops.

She doesn’t have to wait long. There, backlit by the rising sun as he climbs out of her skylight, is Chat. 

The sight of him, whole and vital and breathing, feels like a punch to the stomach for all that it fills the cavernous empty space inside of her.

God, there he is.

Her knees hit the rooftop and a sound somewhere between a sob and a gasp shakes out of her chest. Relief, unfettered, sends cold chills down her spine until she trembles with it. It wasn’t until she saw him again that she realized just how terrified she’d been that none of this would work.

A shadow falls across her. She looks up and all she can see is green before she ducks her head back down, wishing she could drown in him instead.

“Hey, are you okay?” Chat Noir offers her a hand, his brow furrowed. His frown only deepens when she places a shaking gloved hand in his. “How did you get up here, anyway?”

Something inside her crumbles. She wants nothing more than to throw her arms around him, to press her cheek to his chest until she can feel his heartbeat, until it’s all she can hear. He reaches out towards her face and pauses, his hand freezing in midair when suspicion wars with the concern in his expression.

When he doesn’t touch her, she raises her own hand and finds tears on her cheeks. When had she started crying?

His gaze is sharp, but his voice is still gentle when he asks, “Do you need help? Have you been akumatized?”

“I-” her voice fails her. She swallows and tries again. “You’re in no danger from me.”

Chat watches her warily, rocking back on his heels. He’s probably never seen an Akuma that didn’t attack first and ask questions later, but even his troubled look is so far and away better than his empty one. The life in his eyes is a balm to an open wound and the love that strains to burst out of her is enough to keep tears flowing.

“Come with me,” he offers her his hand again - his left, the one without his Miraculous - and she’s so proud of him, for his boundless kindness even in the face of caution, for the bravery that pours from him so effortlessly. “We’ll find Ladybug and she can fix everything.”

The sob that bursts out of her this time is broken and raw. To have to hurt him while he heals her is a cruel twist of fate. “Kitty-” 

He tilts his head and she sees it when his guarded confusion gives way to horrible, wretched understanding. His mouth falls open, then he snaps it shut and whispers, “Ladybug?”

Ouroboros bites down on her lower lip. She should never have approached him. She can do nothing to help him now, and if the absolute devastation on his face is anything to go off of, she’s more likely to get him akumatized than anything else. “It - it’ll be okay, Chat.”

“You - you’re not Ladybug,” he says slowly, his voice thick. “She can’t - she would never allow herself to be akumatized.”

If only he knew. That was the funny thing, wasn’t it? She didn’t deserve his unwavering faith. He held her up so high without realizing that she was as fallible as any other person, and all it took for her to tumble down was for him to be ripped away from her. When it all came down, Ladybug was not unbreakable. 

“Never say never,” she murmurs.

His throat bobs as he struggles for words. She reaches out for him, only to think better of it a moment too late - his eyes snap to her arm and widen even further, and she realizes at once what he’s seen.

Nestled above the ruined Black Cat Miraculous on her wrist is the lucky charm that Adrien had made for her birthday. Ouroboros watches his shocked expression give way to a fragile sort of uncertainty right before his gaze flicks back to the building he’s just left.

Her heart breaks for the second time. She knows now, and so does he. He might not understand, but he knows.

There’s no way this moment doesn’t change everything, in any given timeline.

“Hey, kitty,” Ouroboros steps closer, pitching her voice low to soothe, “I shouldn’t have come here, but it’s going to be okay. I’m...I’m gonna fix it like you said, okay?” 

Chat stares at her for a long time, his gaze raking over dark earrings, blue eyes, freckles, and black hair. He searches for an answer she can’t yet give him until the silence is all but unbearable. “I...I know you will, my lady. You always do.” 

Her heart turns over. Even when thrown face to face with the unbelievable, he still chooses to place his belief in her. She won’t let him down again.

He glances at her, then away, as if something about her hurts to look at. “Do you need me?”

She puts a hand to his cheek and something in his expression twists as he turns his face into her touch, his lips brushing her covered wrist. “Always, Chaton. I’m afraid I have to do this part on my own, but I’ll see you soon though. That’s a promise,” she whispers, before glancing past him, scanning the sky for any sign of a butterfly.

There’s not one to be seen, but she’s not surprised. With a teary smile, she meets Chat’s gaze once more before reaching for the Snake Miraculous.

As many times as it takes. Even if it's twenty-five thousand, nine hundred and thirteen times, she’ll save him. At least as long as he fought to save her, or until her breaths stop coming and her heart ceases to beat.

[themadauthorshatter]

RED SCHOOL UNIVERSE ALTERATION HEADCANONS/STORY!!!!!! Mainly based on that series titles and plots post I did a little while back.

This story happensthe same as before, but there are three arcs, not two parts; Arc 1 is the two worlds dicscovering each other and each wondering who the other is. Arc 2 is the worlds meeting each other and making introductions and first impressions. Arc 3 is the "Peace and Cooperation" between the two, which includes the Unity Ball.

The Endless Woods were still discovered by Silvers, but it was completely on accident. They were trying to go to Piedmont or any other Nortan ally because the Scarlet Guard situation is getting a little crazy and Tiberias needs needs reinforcements who are not having the same problem as him.

In their defense, it was really dark and they couldn't see a damn thing. And they thought the trees and grass being blue were because of Greenies.

One of them, a Swift, ran away when his travel partner, an Eye, got shot by a stray arrow and when a wolf jumped out of the trees. Like, a BIG ASS WOLF.

Little did the Swift know, a ferret snuck onto the boat while getting chased by an evil mist possessed hawk.

So the Eye gets patched up by Professor Espada, who scolded Chaddick, he is interviewed by Espada and Dovey, though they all talk in the School Master's office.

THE REVEAL OF RHIAN WILL COME, JUST WAIT BECAUSE IT WILL BE AWESOME!!!

The Eye explains as much of Norta as he can, mistakenly talking about the King and his two sons to a certain blonde girl who keeps thinking she's in the wrong school and her more realist, down to Earth friend that is intrigued, but just wants to go home.

SPEAKING OF NORTA!!!!

With the Swift, he arrives back at Norta and claimed he'd been chased away by soldiers.

The ferret slips away from the boat and finds its way into the garage, where Cal happens to be working, because he overworked himself in training.

It gets his attention and he very stupidly asks it how it got in.

It starts chattering and then claws at the door. Ever the compassionate, Cal lets it on his shoulder and he meets an Animos who takes notice of the rather articulate rodent on the prince's shoulder.

She does her own interviewing of the creature and is curious when it talks about a school meant for teaching children how to be heroes and villains for fairytales.

She infirms Cal, but tells him to not tell his father because it'd sound stupid and like bullshit.

He tells him anyway because Cal cannot keep a secret.

Tibe tells him that maybe he's been training too hard or in the garage to much; oil or gasoline on the brain.

Good thing the Eye comes back and tells Tibe EVERYTHING about what is called the School for Good and Evil. It is across the sea and has no Reds or Silvers to speak of, though they do have magic.

Tibe tries brushing it off, even when Elara asks him about it, but starts getting frustrated when letters start coming in, all sent by ravens.

These address Maven, Cal, Tibe, Elara, Evangeline, Ptolemus, and Volo Samos, and just about anyone and everyone else the Eye talked about, Even Mare, who is Mareena Titanos at this moment.

This was not only an assignment from the School Master directly, but a test to see if the Eye was BS-ing.

Maven rolls his eyes when he reads his.

Mare, at first, got really excited because she thought it was her family or Shade, but was really sad to learn it was just a bunch of kids in school.

Cal just laughs because he gets a lot of questions about what Norta is like and how he lives life, especially how HE goes to school.

He writes back, after realizing that the letters are being sent by literal 16 year olds.

Here is a letter sent by Tedros:

"Dear Tiberias Calore VII, We found one of your people in our school when my friend accidentally shot him.(sorry about that, by the way!) He talked a lot about you and a thing called "Queenstrial" and said that every King had to choose his Queen like that, even though your father didn't. His blood was silver, too. LIKE A MIRROR! Is that how all of you are? As in, does everyone have silver blood? And does everyone still have powers? Write back when you get a chance. I hope to here from you soon, Tedros Pendragon of Camelot."

Here is Cal's reply:

"Dear Tedros, Call me Cal, just about everyone else does. And don't worry about our comrade, he's doing okay. And I hope he didn't say anything confidential. To answer your questions: Yes, Queenstrial is somewhat a competition to marry the next King. My father didn't really partake in one until after I was born, then he married the current Queen and had my brother Maven. Kings rarely marry without one, though my father was the third to do so. Assuming what he said to us was true, that being you and your classmates all have red blood, then no. Not all us have silver blood. I and my family are all Silvers, meaning we have silver blood. We have powers because of it, but it's not as vast as yours, what you call magic. I'm a Burner, meaning I can control fire and not get burned by it, just like my father and brother. My mother, the queen, is a Whisper, meaning she can read minds. And no, not everyone has powers or silver blood. Reds, people with red blood, don't have powers at all, so they work. Granted, Silvers work, too, but Reds have more labor intensive jobs like lumbering and even fighting in an army. It's to make them feel more useful next to us. I hope this answered ypu questions. Tiberias Calore VII"

Here are letters Sophie sent to Maven:

"Dear Maven Calore, It's very nice to meet you! My name is Sophie. I'm from a village called Gavaldon, though you might not have heard of it because it's really deep in the woods and, let's be honest, if you live in a place like Gavaldon, you can probably live and die without anyone knowing who or where you are. Anyway, I tried writing to your brother, but I guess he gets THAT many letters. That guy they found didn't talk about you as much as your brother. And he said he'll be best king yet. I know how frustrating that is, I got put in the wrong school when I helped so many people and even became best friends with a witch. AND SOMEHOW I'M IN EVIL!? I'M THE PICTURE PERFECT DEFINITION OF A PRINCESS!!! Did that ever happen to you on school? Were ypu ever in the wrong place and your brother was where you were supposed to be? Anyway, write back when you get a chance! Love, Sophie P.S. Is it true you and your brother are ALREADY engaged to someone?"

Here is Maven's reply:

"Dear Sophie, Yes. My brother and I are already betrothed, him to Evangeline of House Samos and I to Mareena of the lost House Titanos. I'm not surprised that he didn't; the nobles usually pay more attention to my brother anyway, kind of like you. I remember once I'd wanted to join my father on a meeting concerning one of our legions. He chose Cal to join him instead and left me to train, even though I'm better at talking in council meetings. I was fairly upset, as I'm sure you are, but all I can say is to grin and bear it. As far as I know, most schools last four years. It may seem like a long time, but it will go by very quickly. Aside from that, I wouldn't know because I wasn't taught in a school like you. I was taught in the palace with my brother. I hope things get better for you, at least. Cordially, Maven Calore"

If this was a legit book or movie, we'd get back and forth POVs between the Red Queen cast and the SGE cast.

With the RQ cast, we'd see Mare and Maven talk the letters they'd each gotten and talk about the existence of magic, and the last letter sent to all three of them. FROM AGATHA. Cal joins them and they get to speculating what it could mean for their future.

"Dear Tiberias Calore VII, Maven Calore, and Mareena Titanos, This is the last letter we're allowed to send. The students, at least. Mareena, or Mare, or whatever your name is, I wish I had a chance to meet you at least once. I don't know, I just have a feeling you're lying and I want to know why. Tiberia Cal, I hope you someday become a good king, and that you're happy with Evangeline. If not, just get along and be freinds. Maven, I'm glad you and Mare met. She sounds like she's a good part of your life, and it sounds like your doing everything you can to help her adapt. I hope you two become your own little weird, married family. If I never meet you, best of wishes to you all. Agatha of Woods Beyond"

All three are bummed out by this and Mare cries into Maven's shoulder as he hugs her out of genuineness, not his mother's plan.

Maven later admits to Cal that it would be interesting to meet the students, but is glad he isn't, because they already have enough problems.

Cal agrees, but solely on the front that they wouldn't really know how to get there and back to Norta, and who qould have to stay behind to hold down the fort, as Tibe doesn't trust Elara or any other high house leader and doesn't talk to Julian.

The two simply imagine what such a meeting would be like as they part ways.

With Tibe, a letter from the School Master himself has just arrived and details a safe route from Norta to the School and back.

SWITCH AND BACK TRACK TO THE SGE CAST!!!!!

Sophie hugs the return letters from Cal and Maven, squealing about how gentlemanly they are and that she can't wait to meet them. Agatha gently breaks it to her that that might not happen because of how they don't know where this Norta place is and the last letter was sent last night, HER LETTER. Sophie waves her off and calls her gloomy for not having any hope. Agatha tries talking Sophie into trying to find a way back to Gavaldon instead, but Sophie shuts her down by gasping that she'd never meet her princes, then.

Norta is a hot topic for the students as they all compare letters, Evers and Nevers.

Tedros wonders to Agatha how long it would take for them to arrive, and Agatha admits she doesn't know because she doesn't know how they get from place to place without horses or carriages.

Dovey and Lesso are about to pull their hair out from the nonstop chitchat of Norta, Reds, and Silvers, and the School Master has just the solution:

After enough ravens left and returned safely, he determined a route on water that would help the Silvers arrive safely and get back home. Considering the advances in technology Norta has, it should take them about a day or two to arrive and another day or two to sail home, regardless of the weather conditions.

With that all thought out, he puts it in the form of him own letter, sends it by eagle, and waits.

After A MONTH of waiting, he gets a letter back that Tiberias will be happy to meet the School Master at the rendezvous point.

AND THUS CONCLUDES ARC 1

BE ON THE LOOK OUT FOR ARC 2!!!!

[delicatelyherdreams]

Pragma(tic) Epilogue: The Gods Live On

Pairing: Persephone!Bucky Barnes x Hades!Reader

Summary: In a world where the old gods never truly died, you must learn to navigate your way through the ups and downs of immortality. And if living forever wasn’t hard enough, an ancient evil is now threatening to break free after centuries of silence. And as if that still wasn’t hard enough for you, now a pesky and infuriatingly handsome god is trying to wedge his way into your life. Gods, work, love, and conflict—what more could a goddess need? [Hades & Persephone AU]

Word Count: 3724

Warnings: Language

Pragma(tic) Masterlist

Previous 25: She Almost Murders Someone (Again)

The Winter Solstice Gala, held to celebrate the gods’ reign and usher in a new year, was upon you. It was only months after Bucky had moved in with you—the happiest months of your life. 

Bucky was almost immediately integrated into the Underworld as fall set in just days after his promise after he ate those seeds and bound himself to the Underworld for half a year. This almost made it better. Having him with you always made it easier to get him acquainted with everything there was in the Underworld and train him in his new role.

You hardly had to do anything; he was a natural god of death. 

“It’s because life and death are so alike,” he said one day as you lay in bed together, your head nestled in the crook of his arm as you both read books. “I just know how it feels. It’s easy for me.”

He was good at leading souls down, providing them with a comforting figure as they made the voyage from the Mortal World to the Underworld. He was good at putting them at ease and getting them down in one piece. And what he wasn’t good at, Clint was there to lend his aide.

That also allowed Bucky to grow accustomed to the Underworld.

He moved like he owned the place. He learned it inch by inch, grew as close to it as you did. He loved the place. He loved his home. It was amazing. You’d expected the dark and the death to have some effect on him, but there was nothing. He moved like he’d always lived there. It was beautiful.

His clothes joined yours in your closet. His toiletries took up residence in the bathroom. He claimed the left side of the bed and brought his own pillow to join yours. He made your home his own, living alongside you in perfect harmony. 

It was blissful. You couldn’t believe your eyes every morning when you woke up every morning to see his face sleeping just inches from yours. You found it amazing that you could just swoop in and peck him on the lips whenever you wanted. You found it surreal that he would eat every meal with you and go on strolls around the perimeter of your kingdom whenever you wished. You found it beautiful that you could go to bed every night, holding him in your arms and fall asleep to the sound of his steady heart.

For four months you operated like this, growing accustomed to living together. For four months you saw few others. For four months you knew nothing but peace.

But, of course, peace must be broken.

Carol personally delivered the invitation.

The Winter Solstice Gala was to be held near the end of December on the shortest day and longest night of the year.

You had half a mind to decline the invitation as you had so many years before, but Bucky had accepted before you could put a word in. 

“I think it’d be fun,” he later said when you caught him with an accusatory glare. “Besides…” His arms snaked around your waist and he buried his nose in your neck. “I want to see you in a regal dress.”

You couldn’t deny him so you ended up stuck in a scarlet gown, impatiently waiting at the bottom of your stairs for Bucky to finish getting ready.

You fiddled with the fabric of your dress. You had to admit that it was gorgeous. In the traditional ballgown style, it had a wide skirt that swept over the ground when you walked. Fabricated flowers covered the skirt and they crawled up the fabric. The corset top cinched at the waist, giving way for a slit to fall through your cleavage, accenting it just right without revealing anything. The sleeves hung off your shoulders, leaving your skin and collar bones exposed to the cool air. You wore no jewelry or accessory save for your golden crown that rested atop your head.

Your feet ached already. You didn’t like your heels. You didn’t really care much for this dress either, but it was required for such a gala. All the other goddesses would be wearing something similar and you refused to be the odd one out. 

You huffed and shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Bucky!” you called up the stairs. “Hurry up! We’re gonna be late!” Unlikely, but you were desperate to get him out.

“I’m coming!” he yelled back. “I’m sorry, Doll.” His voice was growing louder. “This tie was giving me difficulty.” His footsteps echoed in the halls as he came to the top of the staircase.

You turned to face him and your heart stopped. 

You’ve said it before and you’ll say it again: Bucky Barnes looks damn good in black. His suit was a midnight color, as dark as the night sky. His hair was combed back and gelled away from his face. His blue eyes pierced your soul and stole your breath away. You vowed to yourself then to burn every article of clothing he had that was not black.

He gave you a sheepish smile as he descended down the stairs. “You look gorgeous though.” He stopped a foot away from you and took both your hands in his. “Red really is your color.” 

You had to peel your eyes off of his figure and snap yourself back to reality. Giving a flustered cough, you nodded. “Yes and… Er, black is your color also. You look good, Buck. Really good.” You could feel heat pooling beneath the skin of your cheeks as you averted your eyes. 

He laughed at you and squeezed your hands. “Thank you. Now, shall we head out? I know we only have to teleport, but I don’t really want to wait in a long ass line to get in.”

“Sure! Just…” You mustered up your power and blinked. Opening your eyes again, you found yourself on the steps of the palace, surrounded by two dozen other gods and nymphs. Your ears were greeted with a muted murmur of excitement. 

Everyone was dressed to the tens. Fancy gowns made your head swim with colors and elegant suits gave the night a sharpness you found enthralling.

Bucky nudged your side, gesturing up to the front doors where Queen Carol and Queen Maria stood basking in the light of the ballroom.

Carol looked splendid in her white gown, radiating power as she beamed down at the gathering of gods below. “The Winter Solstice is the time of year in which we gods toast to the new light ahead. On our darkest day, we are able to look forward to a time that will be brighter. The light will only grow on our great empire, shining bright for all to see. Now come! Let us be merry and dance!”

Short, sweet, and simple; just how you liked it.

Your sister and her wife made way for the other gods, allowing them to file into the ballroom. 

You and Bucky fell towards the back of the line, slowly climbing your way to the palace. As you passed through the doors, Carol reached out and took your hand. Giving it a gentle tug, she smiled and nodded you in. “Thanks for coming,” she whispered as you passed.

You nodded to her, silently thanking her for the invite, before turning into the ballroom and joining the party.

It was already in full swing. The muses perched on a raised dais on the far wall and played their instruments with expertise. Their jaunty melody filled the air, spurring the gods around to join in dancing on the dance floor. The room was painted gold and midnight blue streamers fell through the air. Balls of magic cast the golden glow over the room. Hovering in the air, they cast dancing shadows whenever they moved. A long table filled with sweets, snacks, and drinks lined the side wall. 

Of course that was your first destination.

You and Bucky seemed to be on the same wavelength as you both made a beeline for the food. Your mouth was already watering at the thought of the sweet ambrosia on your tongue. 

Bucky laughed as he fell to a stop, picking up an ambrosia square. “We’re pathetic!” he cried, taking a bite out of it. “We could be dancing and instead we came for the food.” 

You couldn’t contain your laughter. “You know why? Because we’re smart. We can’t dance on empty stomachs. Besides, the food is best here on Olympus. I like the food in the Underworld but there’s just something about this that makes my heart happy.”

“True.” 

“Just stay away from the pomegranates,” you warned. “I’m not having any more of that nonsense.”

“You got it, Doll.” He smirked as he popped the rest of the square into his mouth and turned for more.

You could’ve stayed there all night, but it wasn’t long at all before you were interrupted. 

“I thought I might find you here,” chimed an amused voice from behind you. You could hear the smile in her words.

Both you and Bucky froze. Turning around slowly, you locked your eyes on Winnifred as she stood apart from you, her arms folded over her chest and her lips quirked up in a smirk. The green of her gown gave her an earthly glow, making the brown of her hair glow with life.

Bucky swallowed heavily. “M-Mother!”

“Hello, James. Hello, (y/n).” She bowed her head to you respectfully.

You nodded back. “It’s good to see you again, Winnifred.”

“And you.” She looked up at Bucky, her eyebrow cocked. “I haven’t seen you in months, James. I was beginning to worry.” Her words were prodding and filled with an unspoken question.

“Yeah… I’ve been spending a lot of my time down in the Underworld.”

“Ah, yes. I did hear about that. I can feel the death on you.” Her face screwed up in mild disgust. “You’re the new god of death.” It wasn’t a question so much as it was an accusation. She didn’t like it one bit.

You nodded. “He volunteered to take on the responsibility. I told him what it meant, and he still wanted it. Who was I to deny him?” 

“I am not objecting,” Winnifred said, her voice calm and cold. “I acknowledge that my son is a grown man fully capable of making his own decisions.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Bucky said wrapping his arm around your waist. “I am very happy with my new role. Being the god of death is easy for me and I can do something for the mortals that matters.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t visit every once in a while,” she said with a teasing smirk.

You and Bucky exchanged a glance. He hadn’t told his mom about his situation. 

This wasn’t going to end well.

“Actually… Funny story.” Bucky laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “My new job requires that I… Uh… I have to stay in the Underworld for half the year. It’s mandatory, non-negotiable. So… During fall and winter I really can’t come to visit you.”

Her lips curled down in a frown. “And why not? I’d assume that even then you’d still be able to spare a day to come up and see me.”

“I can’t, Mother. I’m sorry.” He lowered his gaze. “I ate food of the Underworld. Six pomegranate seeds. I knew what it meant, and I still did it.”

You studied the goddess’ gaze warily, gripping Bucky’s arm and preparing to pull him away should she lash out.

Her face, however, was unreadable. She was silent for a few moments before she took a deep breath. “You swear that you weren’t tricked into eating it? You really wanted to be down there so badly that you decided to revoke your right to choose where you are?”

“I did. I do,” he confirmed, pulling you close to him. “I am happy there. And I can always come during the spring and summer. But for the cold months, I want to be down in the Underworld with (y/n). I made my own choice, and that is what I wanted.”

“Then I am happy for you.”

Her words made your heart stop and you searched her face for any ounce of sarcasm or anger.

You found none. A soft smile had overtaken her features as she looked between you and her son. “I am happy for the both of you, and I only wish you the best.” She nodded her head once more. “Now you’ll have to excuse me. I’m afraid that there are more people I have promised my attention to. I will see you in the spring, my son.” She curtsied to you before backing away and joining the ball.

You stood dumbstruck beside Bucky, your mouth agape. “What the fuck just happened?” you asked, your voice dripping with confusion. 

“I think,” he said slowly, his voice tainted by a hint of uncertainty, “my mother just gave us her blessing.” He shook his head. “Whatever! I’m not going to question it!” 

“Me neither!” You turned away from where she had gone and looked at Bucky, a wild laugh escaping your mouth. 

“I think that’s all the crazy I need from the night. I’ll be checking in with her later to make sure she’s feeling well.”

“Probably a smart idea,” you laughed. 

“Oh man…” 

You opened your mouth to speak, but you were cut off by the sound of a new song filling the air. The tune was slower than the last and gentle in the room. At once partners flooded the floor. Pairs of lovers held each other as they began to dance in time. 

Bucky coughed into his hand as he looked out at them. “Seems like fun…” he mused softly, his eyes sliding to glance at you.

“It does,” you agreed softly, looking back at him. 

He paused for a moment before turning to you and bowing. His hand extended for yours, giving you the chance to take it. “May I have this dance, my love?” he asked, his voice tender and kind.

You nodded as you placed your hand in his. “It would be my honor.” 

His fingers curled around yours and he stood straight. Taking slow, deliberate steps, he walked you to the dance floor.

Gathering your skirts in one hand and grabbing his, you placed your other on his shoulder.

His warm hand grasped yours and his other found a home on your waist. Pulling you flush against him, he smiled down at you. “Just let me lead,” he mumbled as he began to pull you into a waltz. 

A soft piano melody filled the air, the notes filling your heart with a slow tranquility. The world around you slowly melted away, leaving you with only him. The scent of him filled your nose—the freshest flowers and the richest earth. His body was warm in such a close proximity. His hand was strong. Nothing other than him mattered in that moment.

You stared up into his blue eyes. They never once left yours.

You traced every one of his features. You knew you’d never get enough of it.

You’d never get enough of him. Truly, he was the love of your life.

How had you gotten so lucky, you wondered as you waltzed around the floor. How had you managed to entrap this man—this god—and make him fall so deeply in love with you?  How had you found him? 

He really was the only one for you. You couldn’t believe you’d wasted so much time on those who were unworthy of your love. You couldn’t believe that a love like this actually existed.

You loved him. You really did. Where you had been strong before, you were stronger now because of him. You felt it every day when you woke up: the strength and power he gave you through his support.

A year ago, you wanted nothing to do with him.

But now you never wanted him to leave.

You squeezed his hand softly, pulling him closer to your body.

He squeezed yours and smiled in response, twirling you in place. 

For hours you danced, letting him lead you in dizzying circles until he waltzed you out of the ballroom to a balcony that overlooked the city.

The music inside quieted to a dull hum and you and Bucky were left alone as the doors closed behind you of their own accord. You slowed to a stop before the marble of the railing. 

He didn’t let you go. You didn’t want him to let you go. You basked in the other’s presence, simply enjoying the silence. 

You decided to be the first to break it, mumbling three little words. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he echoed, his hand letting go of yours and cupping your cheek softly.

You leaned into him, letting your eyes flutter shut. “Thank you,” you whispered in the night.

“For what?”

“For being with me. For never letting me go or giving up. I can’t imagine it was easy, knowing everything I put you through. So just thank you for everything.” You knew you’d never find the words to tell him exactly how much you appreciated him, but this would just have to do. 

He pulled you close and rested his forehead against yours. “We’ve been through too much for me to let you go now, Doll.”

“I know we have. But I want you to know that I never want you to let me go. I love you too much.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere any time soon.” He fell silent for a bit, his brow furrowing in hesitation. “Actually… There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Oh?”

“It’s… It’s kind of a big question. I’ve been waiting for the perfect time, but I never knew when I’d catch you in the moment. I guess that now is as good a time as any, right?” He was nervous. You could tell it in the way his eyes wouldn’t stay in one spot for long and how he shuffled his feet. His hand dipped into his suit pocket and slowly pulled out a small, rectangular, velvet box. 

Your breath hitched as your eyes glued themselves to the box. “Bucky…” Your voice was small and trembling, the lump in your throat keeping it from being anything more. Your heart pounded in your chest.

He shuffled his feet and passed the box in between his hands, the black of his palm swallowing the black of the box. His blue eyes found yours and held your gaze. “Look, I know that this probably isn't how you’d envisioned your life going—I mean, who could’ve predicted the Queen of the Underworld getting mixed up with some minor god of spring—but I couldn’t imagine my life any other way. I love you so, so much (y/n), and I want you in my life, to have and to hold, for forever. You will have me as long as the stars still burn in the sky. You will have me as long as man roams the Mortal World. You will have me as long as Olympus stands. You will have me as long as we both shall live. So…” He cleared his throat and slowly sank to the ground onto one knee. His hands held out the box as he stared up at you, his eyes begging. “Will you, (y/n) Aidoneus, the unseen one, eldest daughter of the titans Kronos and Rhea, goddess of the dead and wealth, Queen of the Underworld, and the love of my life, do me the honor of becoming my wife—my beloved queen—and spend eternity with me?” He only then cracked open the box and your heart crawled up into your throat.

Staring up at you, encased in a band of black vibranium, was a perfect and raw ruby, red as blood and the size of a large pebble.

The stone was shockingly familiar and you were surprised you even recognized it. “Is that…?”

“It is.” His smile was bright. “It’s the ruby you threw at me all that time ago. Believe me, I can’t believe I kept it either. But I figured that there was nothing better to propose with than the first gift you gave me put into a band of my own creation.” At your bewildered expression, he smiled sheepishly. “I asked Tony to teach me how to make a ring so I could give you this. But that’s beside the point. I need to know what you say. Will you marry me?”

Staring down at him, you could picture the future. You could see your ring on his finger and his ring on yours. You could see the his-and-hers crowns. You could see two of everything as he only solidified his place in your life. You could see yourself waking up with him, eating with him, loving with him, doing everything with him. You could see him as a permanent part of your life, there forever more.

You could see him standing by your side as your husband and your king, ruling the Underworld together, bound by nothing but love and adoration. You could see him as yours, and you as his.

And it made you smile. 

You wiped at the tears that were flooding your eyes and nodded. “Yes,” you said softly. 

His eyes lit up as he looked at you hopefully. “Yes?”

“Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes.”

He didn’t hesitate to slide the ring on your finger and stand to pull you in a hug. With his arms wrapped tightly around your torso, he kissed you and laughed into your mouth.

You held him as close as physically possible, just basking in him. “I love you,” you said again when you broke apart for air.

“And I love you. Always.”

Your heart was happy. You were happy. Knowing that Bucky was yours and yours alone filled you with something indescribable. 

He loved you. You loved him. He was yours. You were his. And that was enough to make you happy.

Because now you had him for as long as you both shall live.

For all eternity in your very own happily ever after.

[sunflowerstalks]

Shining Just for You

Sometimes, after a long day of running Out and About and *literally* saving the world, a moment alone together was what Roman and Virgil really craved.

(title from ‘mirrorball’ by taylor swift)

This is my gift for Patton, @4ngstyc00kie​, for @sanderssidesgiftxchange​! I hope you enjoy your gift, and I hope your holidays were and continue to go well! :D

(sidenote: the recipe for the pretzels in this fic can actually be found here! i can personally vouch for em they are SO good)

word count: 2199

rating: gen/teen and up (for slight language)

content warnings: none; mentions of food and kissing; slight anxiety attack, but for like two sentences; slight innuendo i guess?; two mentions of cannibalism but in a debate context and not in any detail

relationships: romantic roman/virgil (focus), romantic logan/patton (background), platonic sides (all of em)

characters: roman, virgil, logan, patton, janus, remus

additional tags: superhero au (v subtle, i guess), coffee shop au

The bell above the entrance to Out and About chimed as the door swung inwards, the puff of warm air and smell of pastries loosening the tension in Virgil’s shoulders. The door fell into place behind him as he hung up his snow-dusted coat—he smiled at the jackets already haphazardly strewn across the hooks, familiar leather and denim and down in the shades of his friends signaling his status (yet again) as the last one to arrive. Though, Roman wasn’t even off for another thirty minutes, so Virgil stopped himself before falling down that rabbit hole of self-loathing. He waved to the table where Patton was currently sidled next to Logan in the corner booth, both of them sat across from Remus and Janus—their faces were flushed from the cold and already bright with laughter, but Virgil knew Roman would forget the rest of the world entirely if not reminded of their biweekly after-hours confabulation, so a venture into the kitchens was necessary. The group returned his greeting, before falling back into the passionate conversation that resounded around the shop, twinkling against the glass and settling into the wood. Virgil chuckled as he ducked under the counter, pushing open the heavy doors into the kitchen.

Virgil sucked in a breath, opting to lean on the doorframe for support rather than interrupting… whatever his boyfriend was doing. Roman was a vision, sleeves pushed back, hands dusted with flour, twisting loops of dough over and over before setting them aside—Virgil vaguely identified them as pretzels, but the way that even fluorescent lights struck Roman like a  sunset to marble clearly took precedent. Virgil cleared his throat, hating to ruin previously-said perfect moment, but nonetheless aware of the endless teasing the pair would suffer if they spent too long on their own. Bastards, thought Virgil, as Roman looked away from the task at hand, shaking himself out of his reverie. But his smile came back just as fast and twice as brilliant when he recognized Virgil, immediately making grabby-hands at his person. Virgil giggled (which he would never admit to anyone other than the witness, but it was sort of the point that it stayed between the two of them—it was the point of this time alone in the first place), and made his way into Roman’s arms. He was sure his shirt was getting dusted in flour and spices, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when all he could sense was Roman—yeast and oak and love and warmth and home.

“You’ve made me a sap,” Virgil whined—though it came out as more of a mumble, thanks to the position of his  face pressed into Roman’s shoulder. A rumble, as Roman laughed, loud and strong, and against his reputation, Virgil smiled like the lovestruck fool he was, and tucked himself further into the crook of Roman’s neck.

“As much as I love surprise hugs from my paramour,” Roman fiddled with the hair at the nape of Virgil’s neck as he spoke, “I do need to get back to baking if we’re ever to join the others.” Virgil huffed, ever the dark cloud Roman adored;

“Do we need to though? I mean,” Virgil unentangled himself slightly, pulling back only enough to grasp the strap of Roman’s apron, “really, I think they’ll be able to handle thirty minutes on their own, don’t you?” He looked up at Roman innocently through his lashes, like he wasn’t absolutely certain that he was what Roman would rather be focusing on—they both loved their friends more than life itself, but sometimes, after a long day of running Out and About and *literally* saving the world, a moment alone together was what they really craved.

“You,” Roman flicked Virgil’s nose, leaving a trail of flour in the process, “can be a terrible influence. Besides, you love helping me bake!”

"No, I love watching you bake—there’s a difference.” Though, in reality, Virgil’s words held little weight, as he had already found another apron and had begun tying the straps around himself. Roman cooed, and Virgil bit back another giggle—as long as he was going to help, he could at least keep himself from giving Roman any more ammo against his reputation. Thus, the pair got to work, kneading and twisting. Pretzels weren’t exactly difficult, but Virgil wasn’t usually a kitchen guy in the first place. The third time his pretzel came out too twisted and small, Virgil stepped back with what could only be described as a growl. He pressed his palms into his eyes, and focused on his breathing.

“Hey, no worries, babe, okay? Trust me. Can you look at me?” Roman circled his own hands loosely around Virgil’s wrists, a presence but not a force. Slowly, Virgil moved his hands from his eyes, smiling sheepishly as his boyfriend gave him a small “yay.” His shoulders slumped a little from the stress, but Virgil had calmed down for the most part.

“Thank you, Ro.”

“No worries, my darling,” Roman squeezed his shoulders, “Do you want to stay with me, or go sit with the rest of the group while I finish up?” Virgil considered his options for a moment, savoring Roman’s touch.

“Can I stay with you? I don’t know how much of a help I’ll be, but I want to be around you. You make me feel safe, but like, you know,” he started backtracking, “not in a gay way or anything.”

“Of course you can. And,” Roman said, kissing Virgil’s nose, “I love you, too.” Virgil blushed scarlet as Roman returned to his task, perfectly aware of the stuttering mess he had just made (even though he’d never admit it). Refusing to give in to the teasing, Virgil pressed his lips into a thin line before settling himself onto the counter, perched to watch Roman. He spent as long as he could watching before getting antsy—and when he got antsy, he got curious.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to use powers to make breads and stuff that takes this much work?”

Roman hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe, but I like doing it this way. It’s not the same when it’s done with… whatever powers use. What do they use? Vibes?”

Virgil chuckled, sending a flurry of flour falling down on both of them with a flick of his wrist. Roman looked at the faux snowstorm with glee, and then at his boyfriend with admiration. Virgil didn’t show off often, but, when he did, it was for Roman (he laughed at how that was nearly always the case).

“It’s more of a feeling, I think.”

“So what I’m hearing is that I’m right—vibes,” Roman said wiggling his fingers for emphasis, the pretzels all parboiled and ready for baking. A parting (if it could be called that, as Roman was only walking across the kitchen to the oven and back) kiss was shared as the pretzels began their journey to deliciousness.

“So,” Roman grinned devilishly, clapping his hands together,  “The timer is set for twenty minutes. Thoughts on how to fill the time?”

Virgil quirked an eyebrow. “Without raising suspicion? With our group of friends?”

“Powers, Virgil, show me more magic things! Please?” Roman pleaded with his puppy dog eyes, nudging himself as close as he could get to Virgil. In their current position, Virgil was almost taller—a truly amazing thing to be, if Virgil was being honest—craning his neck to get an awkward view of his boyfriend was not the best of times. But now, he could breathe Roman in like the light and airy pastries he had such a way with, and take him all in at once without having to drag him down to his own level. It was a nice change of pace, and Virgil—Virgil wanted to give Roman everything he wanted. So he concentrated his energy, and…

Roman shrieked.

“What a drama queen,” Virgil sighed, fonder than he’d have liked, looking up at Roman as he hovered maybe a foot above the ground, taller once again. He giggled as he swung his arms, attempting to remain balanced (though, in reality, he really had no impact on it—it was all Virgil, except for the joy). Roman made for Virgil’s hands, an invitation and a request and a declaration of love all in one. Virgil accepted, taking Roman’s hands in his own, intertwining their fingers together—somehow, Roman’s smile grew even wider, and he tugged, pulling himself closer to Virgil.

“You,” Roman began, kissing Virgil’s forehead,

“Are,” His cheek,

“Perfect,” His jaw,

“Wonderful,” His nose,

“Amazing,” The corner of his mouth,

“Superb,” Roman breathed, finally kissing Virgil square on the mouth—they bumped flour-covered noses and their teeth clicked at first, but there was so much warmth that neither could bring themselves to care. Virgil smiled into the kiss, pulling Roman ever closer, holding him tight as his concentration turned from keeping him floating to keeping him close. Virgil hummed, pleased, before being rudely interrupted by the tinny ring of the timer. Roman pulled back reluctantly, giving Virgil one last chaste peck before making his way to the oven to remove the pretzels. He began transferring them to the cooling rack on the counter, and, not for the first time that day, all Virgil could do was stare—Roman was glowing, like, literally. It was faint, a remnant, or maybe a reflection of Virgil’s own powers, but it was there nonetheless. It cast Roman in a light similar to that of a sunset, breathtaking and golden and entirely overwhelming. Virgil’s breath hitched when Roman turned to look at him, and suddenly he was feeling much too small, and not at all worth the man in front of him. He decided to start small with confronting his insecurities:

“Hey,” he whispered, reverent and somewhat strangled. Roman laughed, and kissed him, still unaware of his own aura and its effects on his boyfriend. He picked up the plate of pretzels—half salted, half cinnamon-sugar—and offered Virgil his hand. He took it, gently, and stepped off the counter with Roman’s help. Their aprons were hung on the hooks, and they made their way out into the foyer of the cafe.

Patton was behind the counter at the drink machines, while the other three had spread themselves out across two booths, covering the floor and tables with papers and bags and… dice? Something of the sort—moving on. At the sound of the doors opening, Patton turned to greet Roman and Virgil, flicking his wrist to keep the coffees making themselves, but when he saw the two of them, he froze.

Regaining his composure, Patton grinned and waved. “Heya kiddos! How was baking?”

“Wonderful—look, pretzels!” Roman presented the tray with a flourish, earning a small round of applause from Patton—the others were thoroughly enamoured with their conversation, and had yet to notice the addition of the last two members of their group—but all good things must come to an end.

Remus finally looked up at the sound of laughter and clapping, and immediately smiled wolfishly—which was fitting, because he then wolf whistled obnoxiously. The trio behind the counter turned in confusion, as did Logan and Janus, pulled out of their debate about the morality of cannibalism. Logan looked like he was staring at a three headed dragon:

“Virgil, what did you do?”

“Uh,” he said, turning again to look at Roman, who was only glowing brighter, “Made pretzels?”

“Dude, you’re GLOWING!” Remus had jumped over a table and was leaning over the counter to poke and prod at his brother’s face.

“Huh,” Roman remarked, extending his arm and turning it over, “I guess I am.”

“Fascinating…” Logan had Roman’s other arm in his hands, and was closely examining how the light reacted to his touch. Virgil couldn’t help but feel a little excluded—he went from having all of his boyfriend’s attention to none of it, which was fine, and Virgil could live with that, but he didn’t think there was anything wrong with being a little jealous from time to time.

“Okay, okay, my boyfriend glows, lets eat,” Virgil huffed, stretching and wrapping an arm around Roman’s shoulders—as he preened under all the attention, his aura doubled in size, casting the shop in a soft light.

“Gross,” Remus wrinkled his nose, mouth full with half a pretzel, “Get a room.” Roman squawked at his brother’s teasing, and turned to Virgil to defend him (though all he did was shrug, it was enough to appease Roman). Somehow, in all the chaos, Patton, Logan, and Janus were able to carry the assorted baked goods that were left after closing, and the several drinks, to the table without incident. Janus and Logan had resumed their argument, this time interspersed with moral questions and praise from Patton—though, really, he was just paying attention because Logan looked awful cute when he was passionate. Virgil snapped his attention back to the twins, who were still arguing, albeit playfully, but far too long for his taste—he yanked Roman along through the opening in the counter (ignoring the offended noises of both brothers), and over to their friends. The remaining three fell into their places in the booth, as careful as they could, being themselves and all—and with their arrival, the night truly began.

[doloresrojo]

Hel’s Daughter

Notes: Although I've never read one of his books, I was inspired by Rick Riordan. I also took some elements of different works of fiction, like Francesca Simon's "The Monstrous Child", the History Channel show "Vikings", Neil Gaiman's "Norse Mythology" and other sources. English is not my native language, so there might be mistakes when it comes to grammar and spelling.

Hope you like it.

The word miracle didn’t exist for the old Norsemen; the concept was foreign to them. If you wanted the favor of the gods you had to take it through sacrifice and blood, prayers were not enough. The gods demanded action. Hel, the goddess of the dead, ruler of Helheim, receiver of those who died an unworthy dead, believed this just as much as the Aesir and the Vanir; and yet, she couldn’t think of a better word to describe the baby that was about to come out of her womb. For thousands of years the gods and goddesses had roamed Midgard coupling with mortals leaving offsprings everywhere. So far, Hel had been the only exception when it came to offsprings. Nobody told Hel that she couldn’t conceive, she just assumed it, after all, half of her body was a corpse. She thought that she wasn’t supposed to produce life, it was not her domain. But having a child had always been one of her deepest longings.

Hel was a witch too, her mother the giantess Angrboda was a völva, and a powerful one; Loki had not chosen her only for her beauty and wickedness; power attracted Loki more than anything, and before being separated from her children she had thought her daughter well. Hel could cast a spell for almost anything, but her favorite was the art of illusion. Hel could make the left side of her body, the one that was a corpse, complement the right one. She knew that the other gods disdained her appearance, and she had used that to her advantage, she loved to play with them, but when it came to mortal men she knew that she had to conceal that part of her if she wanted their attention. So she presented herself as a beautiful Nordic woman: fair skin and smooth as the ice, green eyes like a meadow in the spring, scarlet red lips and long blond hair that reached down to her waist. She looked like a princess from a fairy tale, ancient and mysterious.

The father of her baby was a young Irish musician that was living in London, one of her favorite places. He wasn’t particularly ambitious, he hadn’t left Ireland trying to make it big, he was a wanderer and an artist, a good one for that matter. At first Hel had been attracted to his voice, raspy but comforting, like whiskey running through your veins; then as she watched him she realized that he was shy and he was honestly baffled when someone showed interest in him, and it wasn’t an act; she could see it through her left eye, that eye could only see the truth; he knew her as Sigrid and for one night they worshiped each other. Trough sex, Hel was able to feel the rush that only living bodies feel, the feeling that she couldn’t completely have on her own. And this boy was good at what he was doing, despite of his clumsiness and hesitation, once he got confident he became aware of what his partner wanted and delivered. He wanted to see her again and she didn’t oppose the idea, she told him that she would come back; but she didn’t, not because she didn’t want to, she was expecting his baby and she didn’t know what to do. Hel never thought that she would have to deal with such a human and mundane situation.

The pain was excruciating, she had known pain but never like this. The pregnancy had not been an easy one, for the majority of the time she had to stay in bed, more than once the baby tore her left side almost coming out before time. She believed that if the baby was born dead she would be more angry than sad, all that pain for nothing; she longed for a child, yes, but now she felt bitter. The fates had given her so much sorrow: a deformed body, an untrustworthy, narcissistic and negligent father, a family broken by the fear of others, a kingdom that resented her no matter how much she cared of her subjects’ wellbeing. So no, she didn’t believe that the fates will let her have a piece of joy; her own piece of joy. She could have a corpse baby, ready to be put to the ground. A living corpse, cursed to be a living dead. A monster, just like her and her brothers, destined to endure the wrath of the gods.

“Just one more push, daughter, it’s almost here”. Angrboda was assisting her. When Hel arrived to Nifelheim her mother was already waiting for her; she had been killed not long after the gods had come for them.

“Pray to the Bloodmother”. Said Modgud, the giantess that guarded Gjallarbù, and her friend, who was supporting her back and holding her from the armpits.

With a cry that declared war she pushed as if her life depended on it, she felt her left side finally being ripped apart, and she collapsed on Modgud; she felt herself being dragged to unconsciousness, then a memory came out of nowhere: She was back at Jötunheim, with her brothers in her room, she was lying on Fenrir looking at the view from her window- ice mountains and snow being carried away by the wind- Jörmundgandr coiled beside them with Fenrir's tail rubbing him. Her sanctuary. She was brought back to reality by a high pitched baby’s cry. She opened her eyes and saw Angrboda, astonished, looking at the new born. With tears falling down her face she said:

“It is a girl, Hel. A beautiful baby girl”.

Using her remaining strength she sat up and held her arms out for her baby. What she looked was a healthy baby demigoddess, with ten fingers and ten toes, an upturned nose and a lot of hair on her head. Chestnut hair and brown eyes, just like her father.

“Thank you, Bloodmother. She has her father’s looks”.

Hel kissed her daughters forehead and wept; they were tears of happiness, her baby lived. And that was also the problem: No living being could live in Helheim, which meant that she could not stay with her, she had to live in Midgard. Soon she would have to let her go. The fates truly despised her.

***

No matter how much she hated the three dreadful sisters giantesses, they had the answer to her questions. She swaddled her baby and went to pay them a visit at the foot of the tree of life, the Yggdrasil. The sisters were beautiful, three maidens in the prime of their youth, who could believe that they were ancient and feared by gods and mortals alike?

“You took your time, queen”. Said Urd, the Norn that commanded over the past. She was picking up branches and leaves that had felt from above.

“But alas, no one can escape their fate. Not even a god”. Skuld, the one that presided over the future said, she was looking at the well of fate, the Urðarbrunnr.

Hel looked to Verdandi, the one that ruled the present, waiting to see if she had also something to say. She didn’t even acknowledged Hel, she just took a branch out of a basket and snapped it. Hel flinched and held the baby tighter, Verdandi had just terminated someone’s life. Tossing the branch she said:

“Don’t make that face, Hel. You are the queen of Helheim, death shouldn’t make you flinch. It is natural”.

“She is a mother now. Nothing will ever be the same for her”. A smiling Urd said.

Condescending bitch, thought Hel. Maybe it was the nerves but she was feeling mocked by the sisters. Either way, they were talking as if she wasn’t present.

“I am here…”

“Oh, we know”. Verdandi sounded exasperated, bored even. “You want to know what awaits to your child. Put her in the crib”.

A crib appeared at Hel’s feet, carefully she set the sleeping baby in the crib and the sisters stood beside it. They looked at the baby for what to Hel felt like centuries and then stared at each other. Urd was the first to speak:

“Your daughter is not like any other child a god has ever had; she is special, one of a kind. She is the only child you will ever have; she comes from the barest place in the nine worlds and holds so much power. She will be pure magic, she will be the one who will tip the balance when the end of everything comes”.

“You mean?”

“Yes. Ragnarök”. The sisters said in unison.

Ragnarök, the twilight of the gods. The prophecy had done so much damage already to her family. Fenrir was in Asgard, chained with a sword stuck in his mouth and Jörmundgandr was forced to hold the waters of the mortal world with his tale already in his mouth.

“How?”

“That is yet to be seen. Just like you queen, her part in it is yet not defined”. Answered Skuld.

“You wretched… tell me what you know!”

“Hush now. We don’t have all the answers, you already knew that before coming here. And you’d be wise to mind your words, unless you want her to have a similar fate like the rest of your kin”. Verdandi reminded Hel that they could tamper with fate how they saw fit, so it was wise no to offend them so they would be on her side.

Hel took a breath and swallowed her anger.

“Forgive me… I am scared. I don’t know what to do to protect her”.

The sisters softened at Hel’s turmoil. Skuld and Verdandi went back to their places, resuming their work, Urd picked the baby up from the crib and gave her back to her mother.

“You already know what you have to do to protect her, your child is not safe. She is in a very precarious situation. There is only one place were Odin, and Loki, might not find her that easily; your powers will be useful for that. Not to mention your love for her, that’s your greatest weapon against everyone that comes to harm her”.

***

After leaving the sisters Hel realized that she needed to act fast. It was only a matter of time for everyone in the Nine Worlds to find out about her daughter's existence; she had cast an invisibility spell on the baby to prevent Odin from seeing her in his dreams but that wouldn’t last forever. Loki was still bound inside of a cave for what he did to Baldr, but the fates had mentioned him and that didn’t surprise her; the gods didn’t understand the full extent of Loki’s powers; bound to a cave with a venom serpent over his head was not enough to contain him. She knew the place that the sisters meant, the one were her daughter would be safer: Midgard. The world of the mortals had changed and with it also Odin’s ability to see everything there; mortals moved faster in comparison to the old days. A lot of things were happening at the same time in Midgard, it was hard for the All Father to keep his eye on them.

Hel was dreading this, to let the father know of the existence of their child, but she didn’t trust anyone else with her daughter’s safety. She had seen his heart, he was a good person; still, she knew that she was asking for too much. They had been together only once and he was young, clearly not ready to be a father. She had to try though; and if he refused, well, she could force him to do it, but she didn't want to do that, because she wanted her child to be loved. Hel's mother loved her, she loved all her children, but not Loki, he didn't know how to love anyone. She wouldn't let her child to be with an unloving father, that wound never heales. So if he refused, she would find someone else to take care of her child. There was no other way.

***

The father’s name was Ciaran, little dark one. He didn’t usually have nice dreams, he always dreamed of unpleasant or strange situations that left him feeling confused or disturbed. However, this dream was extremely different. He was in a place surrounded by rocky cliffs enveloped in green foliage; there were rows and rows of mountains surrounding the land like a belt or a fortress. The wind was cold but it wasn’t unbearable and even though they were near the sea the wind was dry, it could burn your skin. The land had also sterile patches; this place was a harsh one. He heard a surge of water, even though he was now far from the sea, he thought it was a waterfall but the sound was inconsistent; it was a geyser, there were hot springs too. Amazed, he touched the water, warm, it felt so real. He wished he could stayed there forever. Just when he thought that this place couldn’t mesmerized him more, he saw a volcano, and it was not dormant, smoke came out of it.

He loved this place, wherever it was, and he knew it was real, it had to; he didn’t think his imagination as vivid as it was could produce such a place. His favorite part was the beach, with its soft black sand; he sat there for a long time, seeing the waves come and go, breathing the sea breeze. He felt in so much peace.

Hel had been watching this whole time. She was the one who orchestrated this dream; Iceland had always had a calming effect on her, she hoped that he would feel the same way. She felt guilty, she was about to ruin his good spirits. Ciaran heard footsteps, when he turned he found the most beautiful woman in the world. Sigrid, the lovely Sigrid. He laughed when he saw how she was dressed: A long emerald gown with gold and silver embroidery, a black fur cloak as long as her gown fastened with a small gold chain, a copper choker of a snake that ate its own tail around her neck, her impossibly long hair was braided and on top of her head was a crown made of bones and stones. Now, his dream was getting more usual: Nonsensical.

“What’s so funny?” Hel asked, teasingly.

“Nothing… I’m just being silly”.

They didn’t say anything, they just looked at one another.

“You look beautiful, Sigrid”.

“Thank you. Do you like this place?”

“I do, I have no idea where I am but I love it”.

Hel stood beside him and scooped some of the sand in her hands.

“It’s called Reynisfjara beach”.

Ciaran’s eyebrows shot up to the top of his forehead.

“The what?”

Hel chuckled.

“If it’s better, you may say that you’re in Iceland”.

“Really?” Ciaran asked.

“Yes”.

This was a dream, he knew it; but if that was true then why did everything felt so real. The sand that he took form Sigrid’s hands, the smell of salt, the cold wind on his skin, and her. Specially her. It was just as the last time, so natural and effortless. As if to prove himself that she was in fact real, he cupped her left cheek; being in the land of dreams made him bold. She just stood still.

“Where did you go, Sigrid?”

How she wished that she was Sigrid, that she was a normal human woman that could venture to have a relationship with him. Hear him sing his beautiful songs with his lovely voice and caress his skin to sooth away all of his sorrows. But she wasn’t Sigrid and she’ll never be, and there were more important things to talk about right now.

“My name is not Sigrid, I’m not who you think I am”. She removed his hand off her cheek and took a few steps back. Closing her eyes, she let her glamour drop.

She couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes right away, so she listened. For a long moment he held his breath, he didn’t move, but his heartbeat sped up. When she finally opened them she saw him with his mouth agape and his eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. He backed away from her in horror. If you asked anyone, they would tell you that Hel had no heart, because it was in her corpse side, she couldn’t feel anything there. That was not true, in that moment she could feel her heart breaking. Not wanting to hear hateful words from his mouth she broke the silence.

“I am sorry for deceiving you, I promise you I meant no harm. My name is Hel, Norse goddess of the Underworld, of Helheim, daughter of Loki and Angrboda. And I need your help”.

Ciaran looked at her with suspicion but also with interest, when they met he had known that something was different about her, now he knew what was it. She turned so her right side faced him maybe that would make things easier for him. He came closer and turned her so he could see her completely. Hel hated to feel evaluated, normally she would punish on the spot anyone that dared to looked at her like this; still, she let him, she owed him this much. He put both of his trembling hands on both sides of her face, the corpse side didn’t feel as he thought it would; the flesh didn’t come off at his touch, there was no stench, in fact, she smelled sweet, too sweet, it was hard to describe. The air around her was colder and her right side felt unnaturally soft.

“Is this not a dream?” He asked still holding her.

“It is, I used magic to enter your dreams. I brought you here because I love this place, it soothes me. I hoped that it would do the same to you, that made easier what I’m about to tell you”.

“There’s more?”

Hel removed her cloak, revealing that she had been carrying a baby in her arms this whole time. Ciaran looked at the baby and then at Hel, comprehension slowly making way to his mind. He opened his mouth but nothing came out, he just looked at the baby.

“I thought that I couldn’t have children, I had been sleeping with mortal men for centuries and nothing ever happened. I don’t know why it was different with you”.

Ciaran didn’t know what to do. Maybe Hel was being manipulative, she took the opportunity to put the baby over his chest, and luckily he took her, maybe more as a reflex than a conscious move.

“She is in danger. She needs to hide from the other gods and from my father, I talked to the fates before coming to you. Our daughter is meant to bring balance when the end of the world comes; she is not like any demigod that’s ever existed. She will be hunt down if we don’t hid her from them”.

“Did you just say the end of the world?!”

“I know it’s a lot to take. But if you accept to be her guardian I will help you; I will be watching over you both, I will instruct you, my treasure is more abundant than the one that Odin keeps in his halls, I will provide for you. Anything you need”.

Ciaran shook his head, this didn’t make any sense. He was just a regular guy, how in the world was he going to be able to protect a demigoddess?

“I don’t… how will I…” Then the baby opened her eyes. She had his mother’s eyes, his eyes. Fatherhood and motherhood were supposed to be different, or so he was told. Fathers were supposed to take more time to feel a bond with their children, it was normal. But now holding this baby, he felt it, he felt that bond. This was his baby and he was her father, he was certain.

“What’s her name?”

“I haven’t named her. I was hoping you would choose a name for her”.

“I always liked the name Felicity for a girl”.

Felicity meant happiness and joy, everything that Hel was not. It was perfect.

“I love it”.

Ciaran smiled and touched Felicity’s little face.

“Ciaran, do you think you can love her? I want her to be loved not just protected. Do you think you can love her as her father?”

“I already do”. And by the gods he did. It was insane but it was true.

“I’m going to need your help, Hel. You will have to teach me, I don’t understand anything that’s happening and I don’t know how I’ll protect her from gods and such”.

“I will, no matter what. I swear”. Said Hel fiercely. She put on her cloak and took Felicity, hiding her once more.

“It’s not dawn yet in London, go back to sleep, Felicity will be there in the morning. I need to say goodbye first”.

Ciaran nodded, he doubted that he could go back to sleep, but Hel made sure of that with a sleeping spell. He would need all the rest he could get.

***

Back at Helheim, Hel asked her mother and her servants Ganglati and Ganglöt to go to her treasure hall and gather enough jewels and valuable trinkets to secure a substantial income for a year. Angrboda took a look at her daughter and understood what she was about to do; it pained her, but it was the right thing. She kissed Hel and left, Ganglati and Ganglöt behind her, moving at the speed of a snail. Hel adverted her eyes elsewhere and when she looked back at where the siblings were they were gone; most likely, they were already at the hall waiting for Angrboda. They were one of Helheim’s greatest mysteries, to this day Hel doesn’t know where they come from or why they move so slowly as long as they are being watched.

She sat on her bed, Sick-bed, the very same bed where Felicity was born. She retrieved a silver pendant of a rune from a jewelry box. She dangled it over Felicity’s head, the pendant catching the light of the fires illuminating the room, her little brown eyes following it.

“This is the Hagalaz rune; it’s a rune that is associated with me. It represents the wrath of nature, destruction, trials and testing and crisis that leads to completion. If anything the fates said is true then it represents you well, my love… a god cannot always be everywhere at once, I certainly can’t; this pendant will be my eyes and ears, as long as you wear it I’ll be able to know where you are and if you need my assistance. Never take it off”.

Hel chanted the incantation necessary to bind herself to the pendant, green light poured out of her hand and danced around the pendant settling in the rune. Felicity watched everything with a serene expression, as if magic was already normal to her, as if she hadn’t been born a few days ago.

“Felicity, if only I could let you know how much this hurts me. I dreamed of you for so long, forgive me. This is not what I wanted for you, for the both of us… I don’t know what your father will tell you about me, but rest assured your mother loves you, and I am willing to tear everything apart for you”.

***

Ciaran woke up in the morning feeling rested; it had been a while since he had slept so well. He stretched and savored the feeling before remembering everything. He stood up and looked around his room, and there she was. Felicity, his daughter. A bag was next to her basket on the floor, he knelt and peeked at the basket, she was awake, and in her tiny fist she was holding something, he took a closer look and saw that it was a necklace, a pendant of a rune. Even he had heard of runes, and he knew that this was meant for Felicity to have. He opened the bag and found jewels, golden coins and precious stones, Hel wasn’t kidding when she said that she had treasure. Now it felt truly real. The dream that Hel had called upon felt real enough, but now it had materialized. Last night he was a musician that worked odd jobs to get by and was content with being aimless, and now, he was a father, a father of a demigoddess. Hel had not been very specific about the dangers that followed Felicity, and now him he supposed; how was he going to explain this to his parents? To his friends, he needed help, he had to go back to Ireland. This was not going to be easy, even with Hel’s help and support, but he was up for it. Whatever was coming he would face it, he would be there for his daughter just like his parents were there for him no matter what.

***

Verdandi saw everything as it was happening. Hel resumed her role as the queen of the Underworld, pretending that her heart and mind were there, Loki was struggling and raging in his bonds and Odin was vigilant as always, but still unaware of the existence of Felicity. The father was preparing to go back to his homeland with his kin. He didn’t know what awaited them. Not even her and her sisters knew for sure. The pieces on the board that was Ragnarök were scrambled. Some of the pieces were still set in their rightful place: Fenrir was still going to kill Odin and Odin would kill him in return, Thor and Frey would perish as well, and so would Loki. Hel’s role was still unchanged; she would provide her father with an army of the dead but it seemed that the rest was up to her. After Ragnarök the world will be reborn, a new order will come; that’s were Felicty’s part comes in to action. She will either lead the gods in this new world or she will return to the giants what was taken away from them so long ago, as their ruler. Why was she the one bestowed with so much power? Simple, this girl had inherited the power of Ymir. Everything came from Ymir; the giants, the world as we know it, and even the gods. Odin and his brothers had killed Ymir, little did they know that had Ymir wanted to they could have killed them in the blink of an eye. They were nothing compared to Ymir, but Ymir had chosen to sacrifice themselves so marvelous things were born. Ymir was great, and the greatest thing about they was the purity of their heart. But Felicity was not Ymir, and it was yet to be seen if she possessed the same purity of heart. None of this worried Verdandi, whatever this girl happened to decide to do with her power was… unimportant. As long as the outcome was unchanged, the rest didn’t matter.