#but ofc they would key into the army side of it

[missriyochuchi]

Me irl: fuck the military, its imperialism, its sadomasochistic culture, its misogyny and homophobia and racism, and I know their recruiters often target low income folks with their propaganda and promises of education and travel, but fuck the bros who make their job their identity and use it as an excuse for their bad behavior in civilian life FUCK THOSE CAMO CLAD FUCKERS IN WALMART 😤

Me watching the clone troopers in Star Wars: MY BOYS MY BEAUTIFUL BABY BOYS WHO HAVE NEVER DONE ANYTHING WRONG IN THEIR LIVES EVER 😘

[brokenghostgirl1]

Partners [1]

You were thrilled yet anxious. The two bedroom apartment felt tiny now that the news had fallen. Someone was moving in. The army had provided housing. You were after all their little medic. You hummed at the thought. You were a medic, never one to go on field missions. Just staying at home till someone needed medical attention. You became a medic to help provide more moral support to your dads base if anything. Your dad, Captain Price. Well you called him dad, he was more like a father to you then your real one. 

Eventually you stayed at the base more, helping the new recruits that cried for every little cut. You didn’t complain tho. It got you out of the house, it was quite lonely. Well not for long. You hoped your roommate would be nice, maybe play games with you or just hangout. It would be better than doing nothing all day.

A week ago Lazwell passed by to have a talk about you joining missions, ofc you had refused. You didn’t have the training for it. That and you’d rather work at the base where it was safe. 

“Well hopefully you’ll change your mind” she smiled, “Anyhow, about your roommate situation. Lieutenant Riley will be moving in soon, hopefully sometime today”

“That’s great”, you cheered, “Can’t wait to meet em’. ” 

“ Now don’t be intimidated by his size, he sticks to himself mostly. He’s not mean, just it's his Alpha side I should say”

“Wait but if he’s an Alpha why put him with me, hello unmated omega here” you cringed.

“Are you taking your blockers?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes mom” you groaned.

“Then you should be fine, he isn’t that kind of alpha anyway” with that she left. 

You waited for her to return with some uptight, snarty alpha who thinks he’s the shit. But you grew tired of waiting. You put on the TV and watched a movie. It was some 80’s horror movie, you didn’t really like horror movies but you knew it would keep your mind away from the time. 

Just as the door busted open on the film, so did yours, you screamed. You closed your eyes and covered yourself with a blanket. 

“Y/N” you heard Lazwell

You removed the covers over your face and sat up. There he was, black hoodie, black pants, and a skull mask. A big bag on his side and a gun in hand. He stared at you and when you noticed the gun he put it away. You swallowed a lump down in your throat. 

“Who?” you said still trying to calm down. 

“That's Ghost, your new roomie” she smiled. “He went full on soldier mode when he heard you scream”

“I'm sorry” you smiled at him, “sometimes these movies can be a little much for me”

“Then why watch it?” he asked in a snarky tone. 

You didn’t answer. Lazwell got back up and showed him to his room. He put his things down and left. Lazwell said he needed to finish work at the base and to not wait on him, “he has a key”. She stayed a bit to chat and catch you up on some of the new recruits you might see coming to get medical. 

After Lazwell left you made you some dinner, you did make extra just in case Ghost wanted some when he got home. You left a note on the counter, ‘help yourself ^-^’ written on it. You went to bed that night with a content hum and holding your plushie. 

It was about 3am when your sleep was interrupted by a call. You grabbed your phone and saw Lazwell written on the top. You hesitantly answered it. 

“Kate, it's 3 in the morning, what's wrong” you yawned.

“One of the new recruits…”

“Ugh, ok i'm on my way” you cut her off, “Give me 5 and i’ll be there”

You hung up the phone not letting her finish. You got dressed, you put on an oversized t-shirt and some shorts. You didn’t feel like putting your scrubs on, it was a late night call anyway so it wouldn’t matter. 

You arrived at the base and rushed to your medical room. There you saw your new roommate you just met holding his leg as it bled. You just stared at him, he stared back at you but you swore he looked hungry. He then looked away after a few seconds. 

“Why didn’t she tell me it was the Lieutenant that was hurt” you whispered to yourself.

“It's nothing, Lazwell is just over reacting” you heard him speak, “I told her not to wake you up, I could’ve fixed it.”

He must’ve heard you.

“Oh it's alright it's my job. Plus it looks very painful” you yawned as you sat down next to him. 

Things went silent as you worked on getting the bullet out. It wasn't deep so it didn’t take long for you to get it out and stitch him up. He thanked you an walked out as if he didn’t just have a bullet in his leg. You sighed and headed home, you met with Lazwell on your way out, apparently a new recruit wasn’t watching how he held his gun and ended up shooting Ghost. Lucky for Ghost the recruit didn’t hit anything serious, but he was pissed to say the least. 

Arriving at home you put your purse up on the counter, noticing a note. ‘Thanks for the food kid’ roughly written on a slip of paper. You smiled, he was actually nice for an alpha. You took your shorts off and went to bed holding your plushie.  You dreamt about your day. Meeting your new roommate, cooking, and helping him with his wound. You dreamt of the days that would follow, how this new friendship is going to turn out. 

_________

It's been a week since he moved in. 

You two barely spoke a word to each other. You got more busy since those recruits showed up. Always needing a bandaid or just some ice. You felt like a school nurse. When Lazwell found out she told them if it was life or death then come to you. 

The recruits even made Ghost busy always having to train them. You wanted to go watch but Lazwell told you he doesn’t like it when people watch him. Something about a guy named Soap, always cheering and yelling in his ear. You kinda giggled hearing that. You didn’t expect him to have friends, you thought he was more of a keep to himself kinda alpha. 

You noted that he likes going for runs in the mornings. You wanted to get him some gatorades so he wouldn’t be dehydrated. You needed to shop soon so you just made a note and put it on the fridge like you always do ‘Get Ghost some Gatorade ’. Not thinking about it you also put your whole shopping list on it too. So you wouldn’t lose it. Big mistake though. 

 You were sitting on your lounge chair in the corner of the living room. You had to work on a medical report, some stupid recruit broke his hand. Now you have to fill out a release form, and medical expense report. It was about 8 pm when Ghost came back from the base. You looked up from your laptop and greeted him. 

“What's this?” he grabbed your note and held it up looking at you. 

“Oh, I’m gonna go shopping this weekend,  thought I would get you some drinks to stay hydrated.” you smiled. 

“ Not that” he chuckled, “The list”

“Groceries” it was more of a question. 

He sighed and sat on the sofa looking at his feet, then back at you. 

“You’re an…” he paused, “Omega?”

“Why…why you think that?” you stuttered. You were shaking. You hoped he wasn’t one of those alphas that cared about things like that. Some did, like your father(not price) and you awaited for judgment. 

“ Kid, you put it on your list”

You quickly grabbed it from his hand to look. Sure enough it was on there, in red. ‘Refill Scent blocker px’ . You lowered your head. You were about to text lazwell when he got up and walked to his room. 

“Just thought of telling you to keep that information to yourself. I really didn’t need to know that” he huffed before entering his room. 

You stayed up late that night. You didn’t know if he was angry or not. You didn’t wanna pass by his room and cause him to come out and fuss. So you grabbed a throw blanket you had folded up by the tv, grabbed your nearest stuffie and fell asleep on your lounge chair.  

You dreamt of Ghost that night. Him holding you, shushing you to sleep. You felt warm in his embrace. You didn’t want him to let you go. The last thing you dreamt about was him lifting up his mask just above his nose and kissing your forehead. 

You woke up in your bed. Not sure how you got there but you did sometimes sleep walk so you thought nothing of it. You went to make some breakfast and eggs. Your not really a morning person, but you did have to go into the base today and turn in a few things to Lazwell, and hangout with Price for a few. He finally wants you to meet his team. 

Ghost didn’t join you for breakfast sadly. You wish you would’ve known that otherwise you wouldn’t have made extra. You made sure to wrap up the extra and bring it with you. Maybe lazwell or Price might want some. 

You walked into the training room looking for Price. He told you he’d be in the training area monitoring the recruit training going on. You spotted him in the back. You managed to get a few feet away from him when a tall man got in your way, he was much smaller than Ghost but obviously larger than you. You didn’t have any blockers yet so you knew he might have scented you were an omega. 

“ what's a sweet omega like you doing here?” he asked as he grabbed your arm.

You struggled to get free, dropping the food you brought. “Get off of me, stupid recruit”

He growled. Just before he could open his mouth a very large and angry Ghost walked up behind him. He noticed your eyes glancing behind him, he turned. When he turned Ghost grabbed him, causing him to let you go and be flung to the wall behind him. 

“Why are you here?” Ghost growled.

“I….I” before you could get the words out Price and some guy with a Mohawk came rushing to see what happened. 

“Y/N '' Price bent down and gently grabbed your hand. The small alpha that grabbed you caused a bruise to form. 

“I wanted to bring yall some breakfast” you smiled weakly, “I’m sorry, he… I dropped it”

“That's alright love” the Mohawk guy helped you up, “Im Soap” 

“Y/N” you gave him a big smile, “Nice to meet you”

“Come in here with us, let the captain handle it” 

You walked in the room with Soap. Ghost soon followed after. You knew he was staring at you but you didn’t acknowledge him. Soon after Price and two men joined. 

“ Y/N “

“Yea?” you looked up at him Price with a worried expression. 

“Lazwell is gonna take care of your…issue. So you wont be staying long” he stated. “However let me introduce you to the squad”

He sat next to Ghost. The other two men sat on either side, one guy ended up sitting by you. 

“You’ve already met Soap and Ghost” he smiled, “ That one next to ya is colonel Alejandro Vargas. He's not really part of the 141 but he's still our brother.”

Alejandro chuckled with you at that statement. He was very handsome, you would’ve tried to flirt a little but you knew Ghost was watching you like a hawk. 

“Last but not least, this is Kyle. Just call him Gaz. “ 

After introducing you to the rest of the squad you had to go see lazwell about your scent blockers. As you were leaving Alejandro stopped you in the hall. 

“ Are you and Ghost a thing?”

“What?” you were shocked. “No” 

“Oh, good” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “ Do you wanna go out sometime?” 

“I woul…”

Just as you were about to answer, Ghost came from behind you and growled at him. This didn’t seem to phase Alejandro, he just stood closer. You swore they were about to pounce on each other. 

“Boys” you heard Lazwell speak. “Thats enough”

She grabbed you, pulling you towards her. You yelped as she pulled you, making both the Alphas growl at her. 

“Ghost you should know better.” she sighed, “she’s not on her pills right now, you're just acting on instinct and not what you really want. Same as her, I know Alejandro doesn’t know. Well now you do, but Ghost you should know better. You're her roommate.” 

Ghost didn’t say anything, he just glanced at you and went back to training. Alejandro done the same, only thing is he actually said he was sorry. 

Lazwell took you to your office. She sat you down as if you were the patient, she handed you a new bottle of your scent blockers, making sure you took one before having you return home. Scent blockers usually make the person taking them very sleepy if they haven't had them in a while. Since you haven't had your meds in a day you should get some rest just in case. You don’t want to pass out again. 

Driving home was ok, but when you got to your door something didn’t feel right. You fell to the floor in pain, your heat was coming. You didn’t understand why or what triggered it. You put your back against your door, hopeing that Ghost was going to come home soon so he can help you get into bed and call Lazwell. 

Your phone rang and you tried looking for it, rushing to find it. Your heat was so painful everything was blurry, finding it was a no go. You don’t know how much time goes by until Ghost, Price, and Soap show up. They see you, back against the door whinning, at this point your in full heat. Price and Soap are betas so they don’t really fully understand your pain. Ghost on the other hand….

He wanted you so badly, but he knew he couldn’t. Your heat was making you want a knot from an alpha. He was the closest one, that was his conclusion. He would never force himself on you like that, even if your omega begged, he knew it wasn’t you. 

When the boys finially got you in bed they made sure Ghost was ok. Usually an omegas heat can make an unmated Alphas rut start. 

“Im fine” Ghost huffed.

“Just checking” Soap smiled.

“We trust you Simon”, price patted his shoulder,  “Just watch over her, give her lots of water.”

“Oh, before I forget” soap grabbed a bag off the conter, “Here are some ‘supplies’ for her.”

As they both left Ghost looked into the bag. He regreted it, it made him blush under his mask. He never thought you would be the kind of omega to use toys to help take the edge off. He was kinda jellious of one he knew you where gonna use the most. This one was big with a knot at the base. 

“Fuckin hell” he cursed. 

He needed to just give you the bag and just leave. He walked to the door to your room. He knew you knew he was there. You whinned for him, pleded for him to help you. 

“Ghost” you whinned. “It hurttss so bad, pleasssee”

“Fuck” he whispered. 

He opened the door, when he did he saw you laying nude in the little nest you made with your blankets and cloths. He slowly approached you, handing you the bag of toys. You opened it and smiled giving a weak ‘thank you’. He got up to leave and you grabbed his arm. Your eyes glowed a velvety red, your omega. Your omega was trying to get his alpha to respond, he had to leave the appartment. He left your room and rushed outside. 

Deep down his alpha wanted to help, he didn’t want his omega to hurt. But Ghost himself didn’t want a mate, he liked being alone and thats how he wanted to stay. But you were slowly changing it within him.

[middleearthpixie]

After the Fire ~ Chapter Seventeen

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a grievously wounded Thorin is brought back to the kingdom of Erebor, which is still mostly in ruins. Although he’s survived the wounds he received at the end of Azog’s blade, his recovery is far from complete. Grief, regret, anger, all are making his journey that much more difficult and the physical recovery isn’t quite the most difficult challenge he faces.

Jasna Stoneham is no stranger to loss, as she is a survivor of Smaug’s wrath upon Esgaroth. When she is asked to help the dwarves healers of Erebor, her instinct is to say no, but she needs the job, and so agrees to it. However, no one told her that of all the patients, she would be responsible for the king himself, Thorin Oakenshield. 

Unfortunately, the road to recovery isn’t necessary a smooth one, but if there’s one thing Thorin will learn, it’s that Jasna is just as stubborn as he is and for every step back he takes, she is there to push him three steps forward. And Jasna will soon find out that there is a gentle, softer side to the dwarf king, one that very few people have ever seen and one he fights to keep hidden from her as well. But like his recovery, that is also easier said than done. 

Thorin invites Jasna back to his chambers… 

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Jasna Stoneham

Characters: Jasna, Thorin, Dís 

Warnings: unprotected sex 

Rating: M

Word Count: 4,958

Khuzdul Translation:

Abnâmul - beautiful

Mesmel - jewel of all jewels

Mahal - the maker

Kakhf - shit

‘Atmelê - my breath of breaths (or my soul)

Amrâlimê - my love

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If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

Her heart beat faster as they drew near Thorin’s private quarters. Should anyone see them, she had no doubt it would erupt into some sort of scandal that would most likely end with her being asked to leave Erebor for good. 

But luck was on their side and they came across no one as they made their way down the corridor from the Gallery of Kings, down a narrow staircase, and along the shadowy corridor to the door they now stood before. 

He unlocked it with the key he’d had tucked into his pocket, then pushed it open. “After you.”

She stepped into the semi-darkness. The only light came from the sconces up on the wall behind a long, comfortable looking sofa, and down the narrow hallway leading deeper into the apartment. 

The door closed softly behind her and a moment later, Thorin slid his arms about her waist and her eyes closed at the first sweep of his lips against her nape. A tingle rippled through her, that one patch of skin far more sensitive than she’d ever thought possible. Then the tip of his tongue brushed the same bared skin. She shivered, and did so when he repeated the motion.

The hand on her belly did not remain still, but slid up along her ribs, to cup her left breast, and she couldn’t help the sigh that leaked through her lips. How could she, when it all felt so amazing? Heat unfurled deep within her, smoked through her veins, left her head spinning and her skin tingling like mad.

His thumb brushed over her nipple, which, despite her dress and chemise layered between them, beaded sharply in response and sent such delight streaking through her that she bit down on her bottom lip. He teasingly nipped the slope of her neck, gave her breast a gentle squeeze, then lowered that hand to turn her toward him.

He held her gaze, his eyes like brilliant sapphires, swirling with desire that made the heat sweeping through her burn that much brighter. Her eyes were so heavy-lidded, but she didn’t want to let them close, especially when he slid his fingers up into her hair and gently eased two pins anchoring her messy bun free. His gaze never wavered, a hint of a smile played at his lips as he let the pins fall onto the small table next to the sofa’s arm. 

One by one, he tugged them free, taking great care not to pull her hair as a pin snagged here or tangled there, but patiently worked any free that needed it before he tossed them onto the stone table. Little by little, her hair spilled free, tumbled down about her shoulders, spilled halfway down her back, curls fell to frame her face, and nothing could have prepared her for his throaty, “Mahal, you are so very beautiful, Jasna. I’ve been trying to imagine you with your hair down like this, and I didn't even come close.”

Shyness swept through her and she cast her gaze at his boots. No one had never told her she was beautiful. Only Mama and that hardly counted. But to know that this man found her beautiful, and had no qualms about telling her just that, did something to her that she couldn’t explain. 

He gathered her hair in both hands, smiling as he whispered, “So beautiful…” and then bent to capture her lips with his once more. 

She melted against him, her lips parting, her tongue tangling with his, her fingers snagging in the front of his henley, twisting to tug him closer still. There was more fire, more heat, in his kiss than she could have ever imagined possible and she grew warmer by the second, her linen gown almost too heavy to bear against her ever-sensitive skin.

Thorin let her curls spill through his fingers, both hands now gliding down along her back, his fingers nimbly working buttons through their loops. He broke the kiss, pulling away as he parted the back of her dress and eased it toward her shoulders. 

She had to force herself to meet his smoky gaze, her shyness growing stronger as he slid his thumbs beneath the edge of her bodice to work it the rest of the way over her shoulders and eased it from her. It poured from her to puddle at her feet, leaving her in only her well-worn and oft-laundered chemise that was fraying at the seams. 

He offered up a smile laden with promise that was enough to steam her blood right then and there. He traced a thick forefinger along her chemise’s neckline, just beneath the edge against her skin. She fought off a shiver at how gently he touched her, how it was only barely a graze and yet she felt it clear through to the center of her being. 

A pale green ribbon laced her chemise and when he tugged, the bow slipped free, the satiny ribbon sliding free as he plucked it between his thumb and forefinger to loosen it. Her head spun faster now as he slid that same forefinger down into the shadow between her breasts, along the inner curve of the right one, and she wondered how many women had been where she stood now. How many of them felt their blood actually sing when Thorin touched them? How many felt the weight of that smoky blue stare upon their bared skin?

The sensations rippling through her left her languid, left her eyes heavy-lidded and her skin humming with anticipation of where he’d touch her next, of how he’d touch her next. A heavy sigh leaked through her teeth, anticipation hot and sweet bubbled through her. 

He traced back up, along her collarbone, to the edge of the chemise, where he hooked it with his thumb and forefinger to let it slip over her shoulder. The fabric slid warmly along her skin and when he did the same to the opposite shoulder, the chemise simply spilled from her to land atop her gown.

His eyes visibly darkened as his gaze swept down, and when he looked up and met her eyes once more, the fire in them stole the breath from her lungs. And when he brought his hand up, back to her bared breast and as he cupped it, his, “Abnâmul,” floated to his lips as a husky whisper to make her shiver once more. 

The word meant nothing to her but that throaty growl rumbled through her, her eyelids heavier now as he slid his thumb in a slow circle about her nipple. This was far different from when he’d done it through her clothes. This caress caused everything inside her to tighten, to clench sharply, to make her belly do the most delicious flip ever while those knots tightened even more.

Her breath hitched as he captured her other breast as well and teased them at the same time. Those knots twisted sharply, a shiver tickled along her spine and her back bowed of its own accord. Her eyes closed, her teeth caught her bottom lip as she could no longer hold back her breathless sigh. 

Thorin stepped closer, then bent to slash his mouth down over hers. Then, he broke it to sweep his lips along her neck, down across her shoulder and along the outer curve of her left breast. He kissed his way down her belly, sinking to his knees before her. His fingers traced along her left thigh, her calf, his fingers curved about her ankle to lift her foot, and she smiled as he eased off her soft-skinned boot, then shifted to remove the other, then kissed his way back up to her lips.

As he rose before her once more, she caught his henley in both hands to drag it up. He offered no resistance, but shifted just enough to help her whisk it over his head.

Her mouth went dry at the sight of him—at the solid curve of muscle that lay heavy across his broad shoulders, that wrapped thickly over his arms, that defined a barrel chest and thick stomach. Dark hair spread from his collarbones to his navel and when she reached to lay her hand against his chest, she found that hair was almost as soft as the long curls spilling down his back and over his broad shoulders. His skin was warm, the scars on his belly easy to see even in the low light—still raised and pink, only now with dark stubble growing in around them.

Without thinking, she slid her fingers along the topmost one. The skin was still healing, of course, and it didn’t quite feel the same, and when she looked up, it was to see him still gazing down at her.

“Do they still trouble you?”

“A twinge from time to time.” He smiled then. “But it’s all right to touch me just the same, you know.”

She smiled back, drinking in the sight of him before her. Those scars weren’t the only ones marring his skin—skin that was darker than her own, even in areas where daylight rarely touched—but they were the freshest. And even with those scars, he was still utterly beautiful in a way that defied words, defied description. He simply was. 

Although she’d seen the enormous tattoo he bore, she had never been quite this close to it. Done in black ink, the line-work, both thick and slender, was exquisite. She thought they might make up words in khuzdul, his language, but she could neither read nor speak it, and so couldn't be sure. A raven was inked into the line-work as well, and something that rather reminded her of a sunburst that had been done above what looked like a crown of sorts.

But that wasn’t all. The image was broken up by a series of oddly shaped indentations of a sort. They stretched in two rows from his chest toward his shoulder, the indentations closer toward the middle of his chest, spreading outward. She reached up to lightly trace one, murmuring, “What happened?”

“A warg bite. Just outside of Goblintown,” he murmured back, catching her wrist in his hand. He turned her hand palm up, brought it to his lips to press a warm kiss into its center. “Its other half is on my back.”

“How did you end up in a warg’s mouth?”

“I’d had enough of the Defiler chasing me through all of Middle Earth and went to confront him. But,” he drew her arm about his neck, then crouch slightly to catch her around the waist with one arm and behind the knees with the other to lift her easily, “we can speak of that later.”

Her stomach fluttered widely as he carried her from the sitting room down that narrow corridor. “Take care,” she whispered, “your wounds—”

“I feel no pain at all,” he whispered back, crossing the threshold into his bedchamber.

Her stomach whooshed as he bent to set her on his large bed, then came up over her to cover her body with his, His lips found hers, his weight welcomed as he settled against her. She slid her arms about his midsection, her toes actually curling at the sensual scrape of his body against her now far-too-sensitive nipples. It sent fire racing through her, her body dried kindling to his body’s lit match. 

He sighed into her mouth, arching hard against her and as that hard part of him met the soft part of her, she gasped. She couldn’t help it. The feeling of him pressing into so intimate a part of her was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. And when she and Anissa would wonder about this, she’d never thought it could feel this wonderful. No lesson could ever have convinced her of it, not that anyone ever tried. 

His fingertips came light upon her skin, dancing along her thigh, down over her calf, back up.  But then his fingers slid along her inner thigh to disperse the cold, to spread the warmth through her.

He went higher, into the crease where her thigh met her hip. She bit down on her bottom lip, her eyes heavy lidded and refusing to remain open as just the very tips of his fingers brushed the curls between her thighs. No one had ever touched her this way, and it felt as wicked as it did wonderful, but at the same time, that shyness returned and without thinking, she pressed her thighs together. 

Thorin smiled down at her. “Let me touch you, mesmel… it’s all right, you know.”

His fingers grazed those curls once more and biting down on her bottom lip, she slowly parted her legs wide enough for him to slip between and when his fingers swept along her sensitive flesh, she gripped him tightener, her fingernails biting into his shoulders, lightly at first but then—

“Oh…” She couldn't hold back her low, throaty sigh as he explored further, as he parted those curls to slip into the wet heat of her arousal. He slid through it slowly, easily, and when he found her entrance, he slipped one thick finger inside her. 

“Thorin…” His name was a breathless whisper, her nails sinking deeper into his skin. She couldn’t help it, her fingers just tightened on their own. Nobody had ever told her how utterly amazing this could feel. Nothing could have possibly prepared her for the scorching pleasure he sent spiraling through her, hot and sweet and the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted. 

Her entire body tensed in response, her hips bolting toward him. He stroked her gently, and each sensation built off the last, swirling through her like ribbons of heat, unfurling to fill her like smoke.

Those fiery sensations flooded her, her body tensing about him as he introduced her to the most amazing pleasure she’d ever known and she ached to touch him as he touched her.

But she couldn’t move. She was powerless to do anything but cling to him as he brought her to the brink of something wholly foreign and utterly magical and something that she wanted with every fiber in her being. Each stroke, each swirl of that finger inside her, and she knew she teetered on the edge of nirvana. 

Then his thumb brushed something that shattered her, that sent fireballs erupting deep inside her to flood her body with a biting pleasure so hot, so sweet, that it left her gritting out his name as her body tensed and pulsed around him.

He brought her back gently and as she sank into his soft bed, her fingers went to the falls on his trousers. Buttons gave easily, and she wasn’t shy, didn’t hesitate, as she slid her hand down into the darkness, beneath the soft linen of what had to be his small clothes, and found what she so desperately sought.

Heat greeted her. Hardness met her. He was sleek and smooth, his low moan rising like a fog as she trailed her fingers over that amazing length. He shuddered. That part of him twitched beneath her touch. Her name rose to his lips in a primal growl that sent shivers racing down her spine.

He thrust gently into her hand, a silky slickness bubbling to his opening to coat her palm, her fingers, to make that that thrust a teasing glide. Between her thighs, the sensual tightness became the damp heat of arousal, of need once more, and he offered no resistance as she shoved hard against his trousers to push them down off his hips.

He carefully crouched once more, the rattle of a buckle telling her he was removing his own boots, which he just carelessly tossed aside. 

But then he rose and her mouth went dry at the sight of him as his trousers, his small clothes  hit the floor and he stood naked before her. Magnificent. Utterly, amazingly, magnificent.  

Without thinking, she reached for him, her eyes wide at the sight of his manhood, hard and proud and thick, and when she just brushed him with a curious fingertip, he sucked in a hard breath and shuddered just as she had earlier. 

She did it again, sweeping the pad of her fingers along his length, toward his body. Then away from it. Around him. He twitched beneath her caress, the air leaving his body in a mighty rush and when she looked up, it was to see his eyes closed, a half-smile at his lips. A small bubble of fluid appeared at his opening and curious, she slid her fingertip through it. It slicked along him, making his silky male flesh silkier still. 

“Jasna…” Her name leaked breathlessly through his teeth as she stroked him again. That part of him was utterly fascinating, hot and smooth and sleek, and with each pass, his breathing grew more ragged about the edges. 

He opened his eyes, smiling down at her as he whispered, “I want you, mesmel, if you are ready for me.”

Her stomach fluttered at the deep growl, at the purr of promise in his words, at what was about to happen between them, and she nodded, feeling very much as if she teetered on the edge of a new world yet undiscovered and uncharted. A soft, dull ache swirled through her and when she nodded, he bent over her once more. His lips captured hers, he pressed her down into the bed and gently eased his hips between her thighs. 

He slid easily between her thighs, his arousal silkening her skin as well. Jasna parted her legs wider, unable to breathe as he guided himself to her entrance. He kissed her deep, his tongue tangling with hers as he made his approach. Gently, but with determination, Thorin pushed slowly inside her. She sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden sting engulfing her. There was nothing pleasant about it, it was fire and pain and misery in one bright fireball that almost had her crying out for him to stop.

But then there came a sharp pop and like that, the sting receded. The pain faded. He worked his way inside her slowly, gave her body the time it needed to adjust for him, to accommodate him. She mewled. She couldn’t help it. The pleasure was white-hot in its intensity and she had the maddest urge to roll her hips to accept him completely.

“Oh, Mahal,” he growled as she did just that and he slid deep inside her. He filled her, sent heat billowing through her as she slowly adjusted to the thickness, the fullness, of his body fitting so perfectly inside hers. 

And how delicious it felt! A tingle thrummed through her. Followed by another. And another still. Each more powerful than the last. Each engulfing her with a little more force.

Then he moved.

He gave the gentlest of thrusts, and her body devoured him, tightened about him to hold him inside her. 

“Thorin…” She pressed her thighs against his sides, his name an airy whisper upon her lips. 

“Mesmel,” he growled, then dipped to slash his mouth over hers. 

He thrust. Slow and lazy and deep, and she hummed all around him, each sensation building off the last, the fires raging hotter as she tightened about him. 

He responded with a deep thrust. Then a slow retreat. Another thrust. Another retreat. They built steady, those thrusts, each more powerful than the last. And with each thrust, her body responded, her core melting slowly to make those thrusts silken and delicious.Thorin shuddered against her, growling something in his language as he gained speed now, surging hard and fast inside her. He filled her. Drove deep inside her. Brought her to the edge of something wholly unfamiliar but entirely wonderful. The sensations built off one another, each one stronger and sweeter than the last. Her head spun. Her body throbbed around his. Oh, this was so amazing!

She teetered on the edge, about to go over. Her fingernails dug into his back. Her body arched to meet his. The tingles began, sharp and spicy and melded perfectly with the tension building deep within her core. Oh, yes… this is amazing!

“Jasna! Oh, kakhf.” He thrust hard, tensed against her and then went still, sinking against her as all she could think was, no… oh, NO!

“Mesmel,” he whispered breathlessly into her neck, “I am so sorry… I did—I did not mean to come so quickly… Forgive me…”

Her eyes stung with tears—tears of frustration of being denied the fiery pleasure she knew awaited her just over the that precipice where he’d taken her, but they were not the only tears stinging her eyes. As he brushed a tender kiss along the slope of her neck, up to her ear, and murmured, “’Atmelê,” she shivered, the awesome feeling of being a part of something so much greater than her own self surging through her. 

He shifted, the fullness inside her dissipating as he whispered, “I will make it up to you. I promise.”

“There is no need for that,” she whispered back, fighting to keep her voice from breaking. “I don’t think I was very good at this…”

“Oh, mesmel, that is not true. You just… you felt wonderful beyond compare and I was woefully unprepared for it.” He lifted his head, his blue eyes somewhat cloudy with the afterglow of his release. “And I had no idea what to expect. It took me by surprise, how very good you felt.”

“What?” She looked up at him. “Surely, other women—”

He shook his head. “There have been no other women, Jasna. Only you.”

“What?”

“Aye, you are my first, mesmel. And I promise you, I will not disappoint you again.” He punctuated his words with the gentlest of kisses on her lips. 

“You did not disappoint me,” she told him when he drew away. “I don’t think that possible, Thorin.”

He smiled down at her. “Even so…”

With that, he eased off her and stretched out alongside her, drew the sheet and quilt over them, then gathered her in his arms. His fingers trailed along her hair as he murmured, “I will make it up to you, mesmel. I promise you I will.”

“Thorin,” she craned her neck to gaze up at him, “there is nothing to make up.”

“But there is. I want to hear you cry out my name,” he whispered, tightening his arm about her shoulders. “I want to know you feel even an iota of the pleasure you give.”

She smiled into the semi-darkness. The light from the sconces in the hallway beyond the door was just enough to see him, to make out the dark shapes of furniture, to glint off the flawless silver of the blade of the sword in the corner. “Well, I won’t argue with that.”

His laughter rose in a soft mist. “Mesmel, have you any idea how I treasure this moment? I’ve never even allowed myself to dream of such a moment as this. Never dared allowed myself to think it possible.”

“Why?” She lifted her head to gaze down upon him, propping it on one fist.

“Because I never thought it would come to pass.” 

“Again, why?”

“I had nothing to offer a woman. Not even a home. We moved from place to place, then settled in Ered Luin, but even then, I just… I had nothing to offer.”

“That’s not true, Thorin,” she murmured, reaching down to trace her forefinger along the coarse hair covering his jaw. It was mostly dark, with silver shot through here and there, and larger patch of silver on the right side of his chin. “You have so much to offer, and I don’t j-just mean because of what y-y-you have here. I cannot imagine you d-d-didn’t have plenty to offer before returning h-h-here.”

“I was a blacksmith. And I moved around quite a bit before we settled in Ered Luin.”

“There is nothing wr-wrong with that.”

“No, but it is hardly the same as now.”

“Any w-w-woman would be mad to hold it against you. King, prince, or smithy—it doesn’t ch-change you.”

“It mattered to me, though.”

She smiled down at him, and without thinking, leaned over to press her lips to his. His hand curved against the back of her head, his fingers curling into her hair as his lips moved gently against hers. 

Jasna broke the kiss slowly, and with a sigh, let her hand come to rest on his chest, let her fingers slip through the soft hair curling way from his warm skin. “Might I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he murmured. “Ask me anything you wish.”

“What happened,” she gingerly traced over the warg scar on his chest, “that you were bitten by a warg?”

“Shall I tell you the whole story or only the warg part?”

“The whole story.”

“I was in the village of Bree, just west of the Shire,” he told her, his fingers moving in a slow rhythm along her hair, “and I had a chance meeting with Gandalf the Grey. Only, it wasn’t a chance meeting at all. He’d set it up, precisely to get me to consider this mad quest to retake Erebor.”

Jasna smiled, snuggling closer to him. The heat from his body seeped into hers, his fingers on her hair made her sleepy beyond compare. She was perfectly content right where she was, and didn't care if she ever moved again. “Such a mad quest, indeed.”

A low laugh bubbled to his lips. “It was, when you think about it. Thirteen dwarves against a dragon? We had to be mad.”

She swept her lips along his ribs, then up and over his left nipple, which made his fingers tighten briefly in her hair. “Go on.”

“Oh, mesmel… you’re distracting me.”

“I apologize.”

“Please, don’t.” He turned to press a kiss into her forehead. “So, I ventured into the Shire, to meet Master Baggins, who, Gandalf had chosen as the fourteenth member of our company. We’d made it to Rivendell, got told off by Elrond, then were heading toward Mirkwood when we fell into Goblintown.

“Long story short, outside of Goblintown is where we came face to face with Azog and his minions. And he was astride a white warg with powerful jaws.”

“Why was he hunting you?”

“I don’t know. To this day, I don’t know. Perhaps because I bested him as Khazad-dûm. All I know, he wished to end my bloodline.” His fingers moved lightly along her shoulder now, sweeping first up, then down, and with it, a delicious drowsiness seeped into her. “And he almost did exactly that at Ravenhill, if not for you and Óin and a she-elf named Tauriel.”

“I only arrived after the fact.”

The sheets rustled softly as he shifted onto his side, gazing down at her through soft eyes. “You helped us through the worst of it, Jasna. You’re still helping Fíli through it.”

“I wanted to continue my training.”

“For which I am grateful.” He leaned over, capturing her lips with his, his beard rough and prickly and soft and sensual all at the same time against her skin. She caught his face in her hands, let her thumbs brush along that bristly fur. He eased over her, settled between her thighs once more. 

His kiss came slow and deep, and while his tongue tangled with hers, he slid a hand between them to tease her mercilessly, setting her blood afire and her body ablaze with desire and she smiled as he broke the kiss to nuzzle her. Then he shifted slightly and with a silken push, slid deep and offered up a powerful thrust that had her clinging to him, throbbing around him as he surged hard again. He crushed her to him as his thrusts came faster, as they came harder, was he drove into her with enough force that this time, she went over that peak with him, her voice mingling with his as he surrendered to the same moment as she did.

“Jasna!” He gritted her name, his last thrust almost blinding in its power. His body spilled into hers. Her body claimed his. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, her body devoured his, and when he sank against her, he whispered, “Amrâlimê…”

Her head spun so wildly, she had no choice but to close her eyes, whispering, “What does that mean?”

“My love,” came his equally soft response, his head coming to rest in the slope of her neck. “Because you are, you know.”

Jasna smiled into the darkness, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. Never in her wildest imaginings, did she see Thorin Durin telling her she was his love. It was too amazing to be believed. “Thorin?”

“What?”

“Do you mean that, or are you telling me what you think I wish to hear?”

“Jasna, you’ve seen me through some of the darkest days. You encouraged me, pushed me, even when I only wished to give up. In a very short time, you’ve become very important to me. And yes, I mean it. There is something I need discuss with Dís, with Fíli, but when I do, all of Erebor will know you are mine.

“But for now,” he smiled as he lifted his head, his eyes sparkling in the soft light, “we have plenty of night left and there is plenty more I should like for us to explore together…”

[catierambles]

Control Ch.13

Pairing: Au!Walter Marshall x Jessica Talbot (OFC)

WC 1353

Warnings: None, this is basically a filler chapter to pad things out....sorry. It has some scenes that I wanted to put in, but they never made it into chapters of their own.

Also: The dig Walter uses towards the end is a play on the word Marine (as in Marine Corp) M.A.R.I.N.E My-Ass-Rides-In-Naval-Equipment. My parents were in the Navy, they told me about that one. It’s a playful jab at the other branch.

@liecastillo @summersong69 @identity2212

Walter kicked the door closed to his loft apartment, setting his keys down on the small table by the door before heading into the kitchen and opening the fridge. Taking out a dark bottle, he shook the contents to reincorporate them before uncorking it and taking a swig, the taste of cold pigs blood making his nose wrinkle some. If he could drink beer, that’s what he would be drinking right now, if not something stronger, but this would have to do in its place. Draining one bottle, he went back for another, only this time his eyes caught on the Italian food leftovers Jessica had forgotten in his fridge one of the nights she stayed over. Manicotti, or some such. Woman loved her pasta.

Grabbing another bottle, he closed the fridge, shaking this one the same as the last before pulling the cork and taking a long sip. Crossing the apartment, he stood in front of the window overlooking the city and sighed. He wasn’t going to rest, not wanting to see what memories his brain dug up this time with everything going on. He only rested when he was with her now, her presence making the memories good ones. Besides, the pillows on his bed would still have her scent and he’d rather not deal with that right now.

Pushing away from the window, he walked over and sat down in his recliner, picking up the remote and turning on the TV, getting settled in for a long night.

The next morning, he walked into the station, sitting down at his desk.

“Hey.” He looked over at Jackson who had spoken. “You sleep any?” Walter just shook his head.

“Not really.” He said.

“Didn’t think so. You look like shit.” Jackson said, “Lab report came back on the blood we found in Jess’s apartment. It wasn’t hers. Matched the DNA from a toothbrush we pulled from Martin’s house.”

“She got a hit in.” Walter said and he nodded.

“Based on the nasal mucus found in the sample, probably cracked his nose.”

“That’s my girl.” He said proudly. “BOLO come back with anything?”

“Nothing yet, but it’s a big city, it’ll take time.”

“Time we don’t have.”

“Hey! Don’t think about that, remember?” Jackson said and Walter nodded, running his fingers through his hair. “Unis are talking to his co-workers at the vet clinic and the DA’s office is working on a warrant for his financial records, they’re…invested in finding this guy.”

“Yeah, I bet.” He said and picked up his phone, punching in a number.

“Who’re you calling?” Jackson asked.

“Jess’s parents, they should know and it should come from me.” Walter said and the line picked up. “Melinda, hi. It’s Walter. Listen, is Dave there too? Great, go ahead and put me on speakerphone, you might want to sit down for this.” Twenty minutes later he hung up the phone, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How’d it go?” Jackson asked, having only heard his side of the conversation.

“Her dad’s understandably pissed and her mom spent most of it trying to make me feel better.” Walter said.

“Tell me about her family.”

“Riley, we really--”

“Tell me about her family, it’ll keep your mind off it.” Jackson said and Walter sighed. “Start with her dad.”

“Her father, David Talbot, is a retired Army Green Beret of twenty plus years, and served in Vietnam. Guy could kill both of us with a napkin and make it look like an accident.”

“Would have loved to have been there for that first meeting.” Jackson said with a chuckle.

“Intense doesn’t begin to cover it.”

“You were in the service, weren’t you son?” David asked and Walter looked at him for a long moment.

“Yes, Sir.” He said, finally.

“Thought so. What branch?”

“Army.” Walter said.

“Seen any action?”

“Dad!” Jess exclaimed.

“I’m just asking the man a question, Jess.”

“I can’t talk about that.” Walter said and there was another pause before David gave him a slow nod. It was less what the man thought he was talking about, and more the fact that it was more than a hundred years ago when he was in the service.

“I understand completely.”

“Wait, wait.” Jackson said, “You never told me you were in the Army.”

“I wasn’t born a cop, Riley.” Walter said.

“What about her mom?”

“Melinda Talbot, was a school teacher but became a housewife when she married Jess’s dad.”

“Any siblings?”

“Older brother. Jacoby “Jake” Talbot. Active military Marine Corp sniper, he was just rotated home from Afghanistan.”

“So what you’re saying is, we find Martin, we need to keep him out of line of sight.” Jackson said and Walter snorted without humor.

“And away from any tall roof tops.”

“Okay, “Lieutenant Marshall”,” Jake said as they made their way out into the backyard. He stood a ways away from him, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Let’s see what you got.”

“Jake,” Jess said, “Don’t do this. You do this with all my boyfriends I bring home and then they break up with me.”

“Then they shouldn’t have been with you to begin with.” Jake said and turned his attention back to Walter. “Well?”

“Okay, fine.” Walter said and Jake gave him a wide smile.

“Hold on,” Jackson said, “Her brother challenged you to a fist fight?”

“He was just testing me, and stop interrupting.”

“Tell me you kicked his ass.” Jackson said and Walter shrugged.

“I got there in the end.”

Walter laid on the ground, pretending to be hurt after Jake took him down hard with a leg sweep, looking up as Jessica came over to crouch by him.

“Requesting permission to stop holding back?” He asked, keeping his voice low.

“Just don’t break anything.” Jessica said with a snort and stood as he picked himself up off the ground.

“Jake!” Walter called out and Jake looked at him from where he was talking to David. “Come on.”

“Ohoho!” Jake exclaimed with a smile, walking back into the yard. “Guy wants to go for Round Two.”

“Don’t hold back, Jake.” David called out.

“I never do.” Jake said.

“You just gonna stare at me? Or are you actually going to do something?” Walter asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Someone’s eager.” Jake said, “You didn’t get all butt-hurt like her last boyfriend, so there’s something in your favor, I guess.”

“I’m still waiting.” Walter said and Jake came at him. Walter dodged, striking out, Jake’s head snapping to the side and he stumbled a little.

“Did you just slap me?”

“Yeah, what’re you gonna do about it?” Walter asked, crossing his arms over his chest again. Jake came at him again and Walter dodged swings, stepping to the side and ducking but never changing his stance. Parrying a grab, Walter kicked, planting his boot on his backside and sending Jake stumbling across the yard. “Come on, Marine. You can do better than that.” This went on for a bit, Jake never landing a blow or connecting a grab. “Is that what they teach you in the Corp? Really? No wonder your ass rides in Naval equipment.” He let this go on for a bit before deciding to end things, letting Jake get in close before kicking his legs out from under him and taking him to the ground hard with a hand to his chest. Walter stood, dusting his hands off and leaving him coughing on the ground. He went over to Jessica and she just smiled and shook her head at him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead. David came over with a small smile, holding his hand out and Walter took it, giving him a firm shake.

“Nicely done, son.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Jake!” Jessica called out, “You good?”

“I like him!” Jake said, holding his arm in the air with a thumbs up.

“You kicked her brother’s ass.” Jackson said laughing and Walter nodded, still smiling at the story.

“Earned his respect.” Walter said. “Okay, that’s enough story time. Let’s get back to work.”

[the-lesbianest-batman]

Long Story Short - Taylor Swift

I'm gonna be analysing this as to why this can be read as johnlock coded.

we're starting off with john's pov:

Fatefully

tbh this is a kind of fitting adjective to describe john as the brave, fateful boy who wanted to please his father when he was younger

I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me

yes so john tried to avoid conflicts (perhaps not stepping in when harry got hatecrimes during their childhood) but then the battle (the army) picked him.

Misery

the war beings misery ofc

Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep

we know john suffers from night terrors so this clocks

And you passed right by

his first meeting with sherlock aaaaaahhh

I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides

he felt alive again sjjdnsnsj

The knife cuts both ways

this is either: john feels both better because of sherlock but also worse when reichenbach (yes I'm coding this song on reichenbach angst, deal with it) or it could be that both john AND sherlock are affected by each other, for better or for worse since the knife cuts both ways

If the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break

so yes their relationship is the shoe. its easy, it's comforting, it works. until sherlock fell from his high horse/barts hospital in this case.

And I fell from the pedestal

this would be john falling on an emotional level, mirroring sherlocks actual fall

Right down the rabbit hole

depressionnnnn because your best friend/the live of your life is dead

Long story short, it was a bad time

yeah no kidding

Pushed from the precipice

its like johns world stopped moving, everything now feels wrong and cold and empty

Clung to the nearest lips

him trying to distract from his grief by dating mary

Long story short, it was the wrong guy

or girl in this case

Now I'm all about you

I'm all about you, ah

Yeah, yeah

I'm all about you, ah

Yeah, yeah

sherlock is back and john is all about him <3

now we're switching to sherlock's pov

Actually

again this word describes sherlock pretty well. he is kind of a smart arse. in a very lovable way of course

I always felt I must look better in the rear view

sherlock being insecure about what people think of him/him annoying people when he's around so that once he leaves they might like him more. also sherlock trying to convince himself that leaving john behind wasnt as bad

Missing me

yes john does miss him.

At the golden gates they once held the keys to

okay so I'm not perfect at interpreting lyrics but this could be: the golden gates: sherlock without his "armor" and John being the one who had the keys to make sherlock emotionally vulnerable. and to me, the past tense is not because sherlock doesn't love him anymore but because he's far, far away and has his shields back up because the last thing he needs when fighting criminals is an emotional breakdown over john. he needs to be strong

When I dropped my sword

sherlock being done with the mission

I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door

sherlock comes back to john.

And we live in peace

ayo john forgives him, there's none of that mary stuff and they have the domestic happy ending they deserve

But if someone comes at us

sherlock is abso-fucking-lutely ready to defend john.

This time, I'm ready

he protecc.

'Cause I fell from the pedestal

maybe sherlock being rudely pushed from his high horse by people like sebastian, anderson, donovan

Right down the rabbit hole

sherlocks insecurities and drug abuse because he was bullied (hear me out this will come up again 2 lines later)

Long story short, it was a bad time

again also applies to the bullying he endured

Pushed from the precipice

so yes i don't interpret this as the post trf scenario but rather teen!lock descending into drugs because he's all alone

Clung to the nearest lips

THIS is why I went for the teen!lock drug scenario. victorlock but its unhealthy

Long story short, it was the wrong guy

victor was the wrong guy.

Now I'm all about you

I'm all about you, ah

Yeah, yeah

I'm all about you

again. sherlock is all about john. they're in love. they're happy. they're healing

this can be both of their povs. because it's the bridge <3

No more keepin' score now

I just keep you warm (keep you warm)

they're done denying their relationship and thinking it's unrequited. now they accept it and keep each other warm

No more tug of war now

I just know there's more (know there's more)

again, same sentiment. they are done pining. they are secure in their love for one another

No more keepin' score now

I just keep you warm (keep you warm)

repetition for emphasis

And my waves meet your shore

Ever and evermore

jesus christ this line is good, if I could I'd sniff this like coke. *clears throat* yes so this is just. sherlock is the ocean, tempestuous unpredictable, vast (knowledge) and john is the shore, warm, safe, stabile. he's the constancy to sherlock's many moods. so yes. sherlock's waves meet john's shore. forever and evermore. I'm going to cry.

we're back to john's pov

Past me

I wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things

john getting over his immovable heterosexuality and now sees his past internalised homophobia (that probably stems from his family life and childhood experiences with harry not being accepted) as a petty thing

Your nemeses

ok hear me out. these nemeses are johns "daddy issues", internalised homophobia, trust issues, self hatred etc which in my mind all lead back to his father SO

Will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing

we have a patrick melrose situation (minus the csa because I'm not headcanoning abuse victims). I mean that as John realises he hates his father and that he was his nemesis but he can't confront him or show him how well he's doing and that YES, HE HAS A BOYFRIEND, because his father dies. so he goes to his funeral with sherlock and I just see this scene as john crying silently because damn he hated him but somewhere inside him there was still love for his father and sherlock is there for him

And he's passing by

referring to sherlock

Rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky

sherlocks genius, beauty and extravagance. john just appreciates him

And he feels like home

YES. sherlock is johns new home. his found family. omfg johnlock

If the shoe fits, walk in it everywhere you go

the shoe (johnlock) fucking fits!!! (they are soulmates) so yes, they will walk in it everywhere they go!!!!

going in for another sherlock pov

And I fell from the pedestal

this time it's quite literally the fall

Right down the rabbit hole

rabbit hole being the obsession of stopping moriarty and his network.

Long story short, it was a bad time

yeah no shit sherlock. I doubt those 2 years were fun.

Pushed from the precipice

just like john, his world was off its axis

Climbed right back up the cliff

HE MADE IT BACK YES

Long story short, I survived

exactly. at the end of the 2 years sherlock survived and that's what matters. he came back to John.

Now I'm all about you (and now)

I'm all about you, ah (and now)

I'm all about you (and now)

I'm all about you, ah

Yeah, yeah

I'm all about you (and now)

Yeah, yeah

I'm all about you

sherlock is all about john <3

so both their povs now

Long story short, it was a bad time

being apart was a bad time yes. for both of them

Long story short, I survived

but they made it back to each other. they got their happy ending.

yes so I hope you all now go and add longs tory short to your johnlock playlists.

[littlegingermochipie]

anastasia au / アナスタシアバージョン zukaang week 2021 day four | ba sing se season 2 au / 平行宇宙

aang woke up under the control of dai li, while zuko and iroh lived in ba sing se three years after banishment. set as canon divergent version before crossroads of destiny. more of this story below the cut!

excuse my fuzzy brain for incoming plotholes maybe hehe yeah wow i love impulsiveness. anyway yeah sozin comet ain't comin until like, 120 AG-ish

zuko and iroh stopped searching for the avatar and peacefully worked under quon's patronage at ba sing se.

fortunately, due to their successful tea business, they found better access to knowledge of the avatar, as well as various air nomad's relics and textual informations. they decided to keep everything at their secret warehouse, hiring bands of thugs to keep it safe.

unbeknownst to iroh and zuko, four years before they lived as refugees, dai li was the first one to find aang in his iceberg state near eastern air temple.

hundred years ago, aang briefly fought against fire nation army at the temple alongside pathik, gyatso, the nuns, and several young monks. he was saved by pathik from dire situation by getting thrown into the ocean.

long feng planned to raise the boy as their secret weapon so earth kingdom could rise, taking down the fire nation.

upon woken up, aang was hypnotized, and could only remember that he's an orphan named liu jun, born as earthbender.

he was told that the markings on his skin was a curse since birth by angered spirits, and to never let other people see it or they'll be facing the consequences of his misfortune.

he lived like a bird in a cage under long feng's watch and the head of dai li's tutelage. for six years long, he felt horribly stressed.

one day, aang finally found a way to get out of his residence by tricking the caretakers, sneaking and riding on earth kingdom's logistic vehicles.

once he's out of the food supply cart, he found and saved momo from being sold by black market thugs in the lower ring. there, he stumbled upon zuko and iroh's secret warehouse.

zuko was mad for the intrusion, but quickly realized something about the boy's appearance. iroh, however, noticed that this liu jun has upper class upbringing, and concluded that he's one of the rebel child who wanted the taste of outer walls.

zuko just blatantly state the obvious; "kid, you really, really look like the avatar in that painting," but aang was like, "who's avatar?" and ended up being educated about hundred years war history.

aang felt shocked by the tattoos he saw on the painting. still, he quickly dismissed the idea that he might be a living airbender, since their tattoo was supposed to be a sign of mastery, not a curse like long feng said. he didn't tell this to iroh and zuko, yet.

"aish, you must be mad for ever thinking i'm the avatar. he should be an old man by now! i'm afraid of being near fire or under the water for too long, and i dislike being in cramped spaces with damp air. how am i supposed to bend those elements?" (those are also the mental issues resulted by long feng's braingwashing, ofc)

either way, he needed to hide from long feng. aang quickly sealed the deal to iroh's offer who gave him the chance to help their tea shop in the meantime. well, anything but being under dai li's supervision works.

for a week of working together, zuko had noticed a lot of strange things in aang; like how he could easily play kangling (air nomad's bone flute), how his footsteps were so light he almost can never be heard walking, and how he never want to bathe and get dressed with other people nearby.

in the hunt for aang, long feng sent royal guards to every corner of earth kingdom territory. finally, they found aang at the warehouse. chaotic pursuit ensues. iroh and zuko managed to save him—at the price of being labeled as criminals.

with the help of june, iroh and zuko found their way to their old ship and crews. they brought aang there, and asked who he actually was since he's so important for the dai li.

from zuko and iroh's research, the only living people who could confirm the avatar's identity was bumi, who's in omashu, and the temple sages. too much risk for those, ofc, so they opted to go to the empty eastern air temple for more hints.

there, they met pathik, who went, "monkey feathers! aang, is that you?" to which aang replied, "nah, i'm liu jun." and pathik's like, "but i can sense your avatar spirit! and-and your tattoos, let me look at it!" but aang was so, so afraid of showing it.

then, by nudging his inner ki, pathik managed to trigger the avatar state out of aang, causing him to remember everything, including his airbending ability.

zuko and iroh be like, "well, shit, he's really the avatar," and their journey went rather hellish from that, with both zhao's fleet and the dai li on their tail.

after being informed by pathik that he had bonded with an air bison named appa, aang wished he could find him, since appa's the only family that might remain alive with him in this world. zuko promised that they would find appa.

under the pretense of companionship, zuko secretly plotted to give aang to ozai, while he and iroh helped the boy to master four elements by travelling around the world.

feelings were hindering him on the way, though. months of travelling together did that. "i think we could be good friends, even in another lifetime, if not a hundred years ago." oof, aang.

just like dimitri and anastasia, zukaang had deep bonding session at the boat with their dancing dragon and firebending lessons. iroh did smile knowingly at them.

betrayal slapped hard when aang found out about zuko's actual plan during their fight against zhao at north pole, who revealed with, "you befriend this dishonored prince, avatar? all he wanted to do was to send you to the fire lord as a nicely wrapped gift! this was all a ploy to earn your trust, to take you down by knowing your exact blind spots! you are merely a tool for him to regain his former identity!"

ouch. they got separated from there. aang then teamed up with the eventually formed gaang at the other side of the world, while zuko getting scolded by iroh, "you don't only lose someone that you care about, but the hope of the whole world! your hope! hadn't the past three years taught you something? hunger for power only bring despair to you!"

both once separated parties then reunited with the crossroads episode. aang ended up dead, katara swore to finish the fire siblings off, and zuko went absolutely mad, drowned in grief.

it's up to zuko now, to actually fulfill his promises; from finding appa to saving the world from his father—all without knowing that katara could revive aang. angst angst angst, final boss, zukaang banging then everyone lived happily ever after ♥

the musical scores would be:

a rumour in ba sing se

once upon an agrahāyana

caldera holds the key to your heart

learn to wield it

learn to wield it (dancing dragon reprise)

in the dark of the moonless night

feels great to finally manifest this draft of zukaang anastasia au for @zukaangweek uwu

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

I just figured out that it was Lancelot who introduced Percival to Arthur and now I need some headcanons on how Lancelot and Percival met lol

ohhhh hm okay idk if this was canonically mentioned in any way and honestly I'm not gonna look it up so this is just how I've always pictured it

So Lancelot was on his travels for I don't know how long, like five years right? anyway so I imagine he couldn't have met Percival longer than six months before they got that message from Merlin and travelled to Camelot. don't ask me why, but I just always thought they must've known each other for about half a year. genuinely, no idea why

anyway I tried searching this, but I couldn't find out if they ever stated when Percival family was killed by cenred's army, I actually think Lancelot just introduced him by saying his family got murdered but not when. So I could've imagined that like, Lancelot was present back then, but also it seems unlikely that Percival would be the way he is if that happened half a year ago. Which means that it probably happened earlier, about the same time that Lancelot's village was burnt down as well, like, let's say when Percival was ten.

What I'm trying to conclude rn is that this means Percival and Lancelot must've met somewhere on the road. because I know nothing about what Percival did before he came to Camelot though, I can only imagine that he would have been travelling as well, but like, idk. He doesn't actually seem like the type of guy who'd decide to travel. So let me paint you the picture of how I imagine Percivals childhood being like:

when his family got wiped out by Cenred, he was ten, and lucky that the only part of his family that got wiped out were his parents and his siblings, (for whatever reason I think that he had a sister and a brother, let's not discuss it) simply because that was the only part of his family present. I feel like he had some grandma or other elderly aunt somewhere that he was first of all visiting, which is why he "survived" that army killing the whole ass village or smth, and which is why he had a place to stay and even a quite good future in sight. Now picture that grandma having a son that's a knight. Which is where Percival gets all of his training, and all of his "I want to help people!!!! if cenred's army ever comes back I want to fight!!!!" mentality. So now Percival's like, idk, 20? about ten years later anyway, and he can fight, and he grew up to be so sturdy and muscular and now his grandma is really old and he works on her farm and helps out around the town and probably also teaches little kids to fight because, like, I can see him being a teacher.

Now his grandma, who's a really sweet person and knows that her grandchild shouldn't spend his life working on her farm, tells him to go away and become a knight like his uncle. and he's all like no!!! I can't leave you alone!!!! but she sends him away and he goes because hey, he does wanna be a knight tbh

On his way to the capital and the castle, he solves like a ton of problems and kicks some ass and saves like five children from drowning and whatnot. like he becomes low-key a hero in some places. And one day he's staying at this Inn and he witnesses this conflict between two men that seems like it's gonna start a brawl, and he steps in and does all the Percival intimidation shit but the dudes are drunk and try to fight him. and like ofc he can knock them out. And in the corner of that Inn sits a young man about his age, a sword at his side and dinner in front of him, and Percival nods at him and goes back to where he was sitting.

Yet the next morning, some of Cenred's men (how ironic!!) "visit" the little town that he was actually on his way to leave again already, and because they're Cenred's men, that scare half of the people there so badly that they vacate anything they had in their hands and vanish into their houses, and think they can just waltz in there and take anything and anyone (how lovely it sounds that Percival is about to slay some rapists <3), Percival is like okay, gotta deal with this real quick, and just puts down his little supplies and takes his sword out and fights them. and guess who joins him? The man from the inn that he saw the day before, who had seemed like he would've dealt with those men had Percival not done so.

They bond quickly after that. Like, they both have the same passion, becoming a knight, and they're quick to decide to travel together a bit, and let's be real, Percival was probably telling Lancelot again and again that his talent with a sword shouldn't be wasted and that he should accompany him and that they should both become knights of this kingdom and let's be real once more, Lancelot told him just as many times that he'd keep on training to be a knight of Camelot but that he would totally be supporting Percival either way.

Anyway so on their way to the capital, they visit Lancelot's "friend" and guess whose letter they read, and guess what Percival decides is more important - saving Camelot or becoming a knight.

(Genuinely I think that decision was - without him knowing - heavily influenced by Lancelot and his whole "honour" talk that he gives everytime becoming a knight even comes up)

[egyx0s-brainrot]

An idea I have in my head for how I would rewrite the show is that, instead of the bracelet of Ra being the ultimate weapon, it is actually a key to activate more powerful artifacts that Ra (or maybe others like Ra) created and are now.

And so, the first season plot (or the first 10 episodes) of the show is that Leo and the golden army must search for these missing artifacts before the dark army does it first.

To give the plot a little bit of initially so it doesn't look dull or repeated, if a human finds an artifact and uses it, this human would become a type of monster with a symbiotic connection to the set artifact. Something like this:

It would be a good way to explore the Egyptian mythology and the differences it has with Leo's human knowledge.

It would also help explore the bast world of Egyxos, their citizens, and culture, and how they see humans as a subject too! And it would help characters like Ramses and Hyksos (who are the ones that pass more time in the human world) explore our peculiarly human culture. As may be some artifacts like Shu are on earth to be safer!

Artifacts like Tutankhamun's mask, Namer Palette, Canopic Jars, The Rosetta stone, Khufu statue, The Dendra zodiac, and the Merneptah Stele, etc.

But what do you think of my rewritten version?

Ohhh i had a similar thought! : the bracelet (powered by the eye of Ra) is one of 3 pieces of a key that got separated a long time ago and both sides are searching for them. Though I still don't know what purpose it would have:/

I love your idea! It would give the time and space for Leo and the Golden Army to bond and learn abt each other's worlds and lives, it would help the show to not feel too rushed and the adventures wouldn't be so limited to Egyxos.

this would fit on the 'villain of the week' trope, and the best thing is that at the end of the day you can still fit the plot in it. Like, have them go on wacky, fun adventures as an introduction arc to set the show's characters, world and pace more or less by having them go on this search which still has that high stakes feel that would allow to showcase both worlds (*cough* *cough* THE EGYXOS DIMENSION), but in each episode (or at least, most of them) there is a little bit of the plot, a clue or two of the larger story that awaits the viewers

Ancient Egypt as a whole is a literal goldmine for ideas and inspiration. Like, there's so much amazing stuff that could be used to (respectfully, ofc) tell a fun story! Like the artifacts that you listed and many more!

I mean, for a show inspired by Egyptian mythology and history, they didn't actually make use of it that much, imo

(Oh, if the humans get some kind of physical transformation when using an artifact, would that mean that Exaton used one, too?)

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Why are you so certain that Volturi will lose the inevitable confrontation? Because I think they could easily nullify Cullens' two trump cards and win. Alice's gift will become useless when Volturi acquire Joham's daughters. Bella's shield won't work against Benjamin's bending (who could be Chelsea-ed in Egypt outside of Bella's range and without Alice's forewarning). In these circumstances, I think, Cullens could be swiftly defeated (provided ofc Siobhan doesn't miracle them to safety again).

Keep in mind that most of this is me bracing for the impact of Renesmee the Novel. Meyer’s a maverick, there’s no predicting her, but this one I’m fairly certain of: there will be a confrontation with the Volturi and the Volturi will lose. It is written. Or will be.

But otherwise, while, yes there are timelines where the Volturi can and do win, Bella is a serious threat to them.

Keep in mind that Alec and Jane are what, above all other things, have kept the Volturi in power for a thousand of years. Yes, they went to war and won before them, but Alec and Jane is what saw them repelling the invasion of Italy by the Romanians with ease. Alec and Jane’s gifts are vital to the organization.

Chelsea’s gift, even if I believe it is not omnipotent, is vital to the organization.

We know Bella neuters all of these and can do so for a large amount of people all at the same time. And more, Aro’s enemies know this. There will be an arms race that the Romanians especially are desperate to win. 

And true, while Benjamin could be recruited to the Volturi, I don’t think his gift alone will necessarily make the difference. Yes, he can terraform things and light things on fire, but I don’t believe vampires are flammable (venom is, vampires can’t be or Carlisle would have successfully killed himself long ago). Benjamin’s is a very flashy gift, great at parties, but he’s not Alec and Jane. He’s not a one man army. He will make things difficult for Bella’s army but not impossible.

The point being, with Bella, it becomes a battle based on numbers and physical strength rather than gifts. This gives those who side with Bella (or, rather, those who use her) a fighting chance. More, they don’t have to win the fight, necessarily, they just have to eliminate key players on the other side.

Alec and Jane would be a heavy loss for the Volturi. Chelsea and Renata even more so. Aro also, would be a very huge victory.

So, is it inevitable? No. Caius could convince Aro to strike fast and strike soon, assassinating Bella Swan. They could recruit an army of strength very swiftly or else start picking off Carlisle’s friends who he might build an army from. They could prepare for this, but, on the other hand, Bella gives those who oppose the Volturi the first real chance they’ve had in a thousand years.

And that chance is not necessarily small.

[viking-raider]

Of Truth and Justice - Part VI *FIN*

Summary: The battle of the Mother Boxes and the future.

Pairing: Clark Kent/OFC

Word Count: 12,314

Rating: M - Justice League!AU, Language, Violence, Nightmares, Visions, Death, Fluff, Angst, Dark themes, Dirty Jokes

Inspiration: The Snyder Cut and DCU

Author’s Note: It was fine while it lasted, thanks for all the love and support on it! As always, thank you to @wondersofdreaming​ for inspiring me and doing her best to help keep my manic muse in order.

Clark and Calea didn't go back to sleep, they sat on the porch swing and watched the sunrise over the flat fields of Kansas, Clark's arm slung over her shoulders and her head laid on his arm. The screen door beside them creaked open and Martha peeked her head out, smiling softly at the two.

Clark took a deep breath and turned his head towards her, smiling back at her.

“Mornin'.” She greeted them, Calea looking up at her.

“Morning, Ma.” Clark replied, calm and relaxed, even though his mind had been whirl-winding around the realistic nightmare Calea had during the night.

“I got breakfast on the table, if either of ya want it.” She invited them.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kent.” Calea answered, feeling her stomach rumble like an earthquake.

Martha smiled brighter at Calea, softly shaking her head. “Just call me, Martha.” She told her, with a nod of her head, and disappeared back inside.

“See.” Clark grinned at her. “Told you she'd like you.”

Calea chuckled, blushing softly. “You did.” She nodded, kissing his cheek and stood, heading inside the house with him, the amazing smell of breakfast beckoning her to the table. “This is delicious, Mrs.--Martha.” She complimented her, smiling at her across the table.

“I'm glad.”

“I'm going to take a shower.” She whispered to Clark, as they finished washing up the breakfast dishes for Martha.

“All right.” He nodded, but his brow was creased at her, sensing something was off with her, but didn't want to push it. “Ma said there was something acting up with her car, I'll check that out, while you do.”

“Sounds good.”

Calea smiled, forcefully, pushing up on her toes and kissed his cheek, before quietly going upstairs to his room, stopping by the still broken bed, half an embarrassed smirk tugged up on one corner of her lip, while a frown of conflict pulled down on the other side. Shaking her head, Calea entered his small bathroom and stripped, stepping into the shower stall and cranking the tap, the shower head came sputtering to life. She wasn't even sure what temperature the water was as it washed over her, a throb rolled up her spine and burst through the base of her skull, like fireworks through her brain.

“Ah.” She whimpered, pressing her hands to the shower wall in front of her, squeezing her eyes shut and tried to ride it out.

She panted heavily, trembling, as the pain only intensified, rocking wave after wave through her body. Flashes of an almost desolate place flashed in her mind's eye, searing the picture of some sort of force field forming over it, like the exposed insides of a leaf, slowly blanketing a dome over it, sealing the rough and darkened buildings inside.

“No, no, no!” She whined out, beating her palms against the wall, creaking the old and worn tile.

Stumbling out of the shower, water still running, she scoured Clark's bedroom for her clothing, dripping wet and all.

“Calea?” Martha frowned as Calea charged down the stairs, storming by her. “Is everything all right, hon?” She asked, concerned.

“No, no no.” Calea replied, thundering towards the front door, nearly blowing it off the hinges as she rushed out of it, needing to find Clark, needing him frantically.

“Whoa, easy.” He startled as she grabbed the back of his shirt, colliding with him. “What's wrong?” He asked, holding her by the shoulders and searching her eyes. “Calea, what is it?”

“It's the Boxes, Clark.” She gasped, eyes unfocused, and trembling. “It's the Boxes, they're charging up. He's starting the Unity.” She told him, between deep swallows of air.

“Steppenwolf has started them.”

Clark's face fell at her words, his own anxiety and alarm spiking. “Are you sure?”

“I have to go.” She whimpered, shaking her head. “I have to go to them.”

“No, Calea.” Clark shook his head at her, cupping her face in his hands. “No, we need to get back to the Hall and inform the League, we need to warn them and get them together. Then, we'll go find Steppenwolf and the Mother Boxes.”

“They're calling to me.” Calea replied in an eerie voice. “I have to go to them. They need me.”

Clark's stomach twisted at the sound of her voice and the expression on her face. He pushed her head back to look up at him, but her eyes wouldn't focus, she no longer saw him, or even the farm, all she saw were the Boxes morphing and humming, slowly twisting to meld together as one, while trying to entice her into joining with them, fulfilling her greatest power and potential.

“Fight it, Calea.” He bolstered her, shaking her by the shoulders and trying to get her to snap out of it. “Calea!” He barked, hands squeezing her shoulders.

Calea blinked several times, taking deep breaths in and out, trying to push back against the hum of the Boxes inside her head. Letting out a painstaking groan, she looked up at Clark, gulping thickly.

“We don't have much time.” She rasped, feeling them gnaw at her mind to get back in.

Clark got suited back up and took off with Calea back to the Hall of Justice.

“Where have you two been?” Arthur asked, eyeing Clark and Calea as they came into the hall.

“Where's everyone else?” Clark asked, ignoring the Atlantean's question and look.

“They're down in the lab.”

Clark took Calea's hand, unwilling to be without her, afraid that she would start losing control again. They made their way down to the lab, finding Victor and Bruce leaning over a table. The pair looked up as Calea and Clark came in, instantly knowing something was wrong by their body language.

“What's happened?” Bruce asked, pushing off the table and studying them.

“Steppenwolf's started the Unity with the Mother Boxes.” Clark replied, squeezing Calea's hand.

“We know.” Bruce replied, frowning. “We got the signal forty minutes ago.” He added, sensing something was deeply off with Calea.

“Is she all right?”

“They're calling to me.” She replied, struggling to fight back the gnawing pressure of the Boxes in the base of her mind. “They want...need...me to go to them.”

“Then, it's out of the question.” Bruce shook his head, folding his arms.

“You can't stop those Boxes without me.” Calea told him, bluntly. “I'm what stops them, once and for all.”

“She's right.” Victor nodded, he felt the pull and call of the Boxes as well. “She's the Father Box and the Unity Key. Without her, they can't reach their full power or be destroyed.”

“Look at her!” Arthur snapped, coming into the room. “She's barely holding back from submitting to them already. What happens, when she gets close enough to destroy them.”

“I either destroy them, or they end up destroying me and the planet.” Calea growled at him. “Which gamble do you want to take, Arthur? My life for the world, or the world's life, because you were too much of a chicken shit to take a risk to save it?”

“It's not even your planet.” Arthur huffed, glaring at her. “Your people ended up becoming Darkseid and Steppenwolf's lackeys, that same weakness lives inside of you.”

Calea snapped to Arthur, pinning him up against the wall, teeth bared at him. “I have no weakness.” She hissed. “Unlike you, Arthur Curry; and the Mother Boxes exploit one's weakness.” She whispered, pressing her palms into his collarbones, the blue tint lighting up her eyes as she dug into Arthur's mind and picked out his weakness; the feeling of abandonment from his mother, that caused his reluctance for commitment.

“Calea.” Clark snapped, pulling her off Arthur. “We don't need to be going at each other's throats. It's what Steppenwolf and Darkseid would want; to fracture us, so we were too divided to fight him.”

“Clark is right.” Diana agreed, coming into the lab with Barry and Alfred. “We need to stick together.”

“Do we have any idea where Steppenwolf and the Boxes are, and how it is Calea's meant to destroy them?” Bruce asked, looking around the room, meeting everyone's eyes.

Victor and Calea looked at each other, they knew exactly where the Boxes were, with Victor being brought back with a Mother Box and Calea being the Father Box, they were in tune with the Boxes, and to a degree, each other.

“Yes.” Victor finally replied, looking away from Calea and bringing up a map. “It's an abandoned nuclear site in Russia.” He said, showing it to them. “The amount of radiation it had would be perfect for what he's doing.”

“Wouldn't you run the chance of growing an extra leg out of your neck, with that level of radioactive materials?” Barry asked, concerned.

“Ordinarily, yes.” Victor replied, troubled. “But, the force field Steppenwolf is building around the Mother Boxes, and the Boxes themselves, have absorbed the radiation in the surrounding area.”

“It's relatively safe.”

“Relatively?” Bruce echoed back, lifting a brow at him.

“That's not accounting for the army of Para-Demons he has at his disposal, and the Boxes uniting.” He elaborated, frowning back at Bruce.

Calea whimpered, pressing her fingers to her temples, flashing spots in her eyes. “We need to do something now.” She whined, gripping Clark's arm as she wavered on her feet.

“We're losing time.”

“We need to formulate a plan.” Diana said, leaning against the table and studying the map Victor still had up. “Can you show us what this force field looks like?” She asked, lifting a brow at him.

Nodding, the map hologram changed to a live view of the strange dome that was pulsating over the abandoned city, para-demons swarming all over it. “We need a way to get inside of it.” Victor said, scanning the protective dome for any possible weak points.

“What about some good old fashioned fire power?” Bruce asked, chewing on his lip as he studied it. “Blast an opening long enough to slip through, then try taking out whatever it is keeping the thing up?” He suggested, glancing around the table.

“It might work.” Diana nodded slowly, brows pinched with concentration and worry.

“Only one way to find out.” Arthur chimed in, a similar expression on his own face.

“Let's go.” Bruce said, turning on his heels. “Everyone get suited up and meet on the ship.” He threw over his shoulder, before jogging upstairs to get his Batman suit on.

The team scattered to get ready for the fight, while Clark stayed with Calea, both of them already suited up and ready to go. Clark felt antsy about Calea going with them to confront Steppenwolf and the Para-Demons, especially after her nightmare the evening before and the way the Boxes were affecting her at this distance. She felt the same, but wasn't going to let it stop her from trying to stop them from allowing Darkseid onto Earth.

“It'll be all right.” She whispered, looking up into his face, Clark never bothered to hide what he was feeling from her.

“We don't know that.” He whispered back, cupping her face in his hands.

Calea smiled up at him, despite all the agony she was in. “I know that.” She told him, softly. “You said it yourself, the hardest things have a reason for happening.”

“Not like this.”

“Is Superman scared?” She teased him, gripping his wrists.

“Of losing you,” He stared into her eyes. “More than anything else in my life.”

“You won't lose me, Clark. I'm not going anywhere, especially not without you. So, we'd both have to die, for that to happen, and I don't intend on dying.”

“Do you?”

“Once was enough for me.” Clark laughed, pulling her into his arms.

“And I'd rather not try it myself.” She giggled, locking her arms around his waist.

“You two love birds ready to go?” Bruce asked, coming back into the room.

“Yeah.” They both replied in unison, breaking apart and following Bruce to the jet.

The flight didn't take long to make, but it was tense and filled with uncertain anxiety of what they would find and experience once they arrived at the site; and the closer they got the more agitated Calea became, waves of pain continued to ripple through her body in increasing strength, making her break out into sweat as she paced the ship's loading bay, her head throbbing and sick to her stomach. The team was forced to watch her, like she was some sort of wounded and caged animal, waiting for the right moment to burst through the bars of its prison and attack the first thing it could get its claws on.

“The stronger the Mother Boxes become in their Unity and the closer we get to them, the more she's going to suffer and be affected.” Victor said, feeling the same tingle of discomfort, but not nearly the level Calea did.

“She's in a deep battle of wills with them.”

“Let's just hope her mind and will is stronger than them.” Bruce commented, frightened.

Clark nodded, anxiously, as he watched Calea pace, pounding the sides of her fists against her pounding and sweaty forehead. He felt as useless as the rest, “I'm Superman, and the one superpower I don't have is to ease the pain you're in.” He whimpered, stopping her and folding her into his arms. “If I hadn't died, none of this would have happened.”

“It's not like you died on purpose.” Calea mumbled into his chest, locking her arms around his waist.

“But, I knew it was a very big possibility with how close I was to the Kryptonite spear.” He replied, nuzzling the top of her head.

“It's still not your fault, Clark.” She whimpered, pressing her face against his chest as a fresh wave of pain hit her. “None of this is.”

“We've arrived.” Victor informed them.

The craft landed some distance away from Steppenwolf's base, wanting to give the team as much of an element of surprise as possible, since the Boxes undoubtedly knew Calea was close to them, and would soon give that signal to Steppenwolf and his demons.

“Calea, you're going to stay here and wait until we take out as many of the Para-Demons as we can and get the shield down. That way we don't run the risk of them capturing you.” Bruce said, laying out the plan.

“And the farther I am from them, you think the less likely I am to submit to them?” She replied smugly, between clenched teeth.

“It's for your own good.” Clark told her, resting his hand on the small of her trembling back.

“And, the team's.” Bruce added, before continuing. “I'll take the jet and punch a hole in the shield, then locate the tower that's keeping it up. Once the force field is down, the rest of the team can get in there and start smashing heads.”

“I'll see what I can do to help you destroy the boxes.” Victor said to Calea.

“Good, cause I don't have much of an idea how to do that on my own.” Calea chuckled, shaking her head.

Bruce stepped back onto the jet, closing the bay door behind him and got behind the controls. Taking a deep breath in and out, Bruce pulled the aircraft off the ground and started towards the field, praying that his idea on how to get inside was right. The team watched, tensely, as the thrusters on the jet came to life, rocketing the craft towards the glowing orange ward.

Flipping a switch on the control stick, Bruce fired a blast at the dome and let out a semi-relieved breath, seeing an opening appear in the fabric of the ward's makeup, but it only stayed open for a moment, before closing up again, causing him to miss his chance to get inside.

“He's not going to make it.” Victor shook his head, watching Bruce bring the ship back around and start to fly head on into it.

“Is he going to ram it or something?” Barry fretted, shifting uneasily on his feet.

“No.” Bruce replied over their communication wave. “I just need a little more fire power.” He growled, and opened up on the shield with all the guns and bombs the craft had on it, blowing a massive hole in it and flew right through the fiery plume it left behind.

“I'm in!” He snapped, adrenaline really pumping. “Get ready, I'm about to bring down the tower.”

A moment later, a large explosion sounded from within the ward and it started to crumble, like a leaf burning away to nothing. The team jostled themselves, waiting for the last of the shield to vanish before jumping into action, Diana, Victor and Arthur taking off and soaring towards the defenseless city, and with a crackle of lightning and a strong breeze, Barry was gone in a red blur. But, Clark didn't move from Calea's side as they watched the rest of them jump into action.

“Go.” She told him, jerking her head towards the action.

“Are you sure you'll be all right up here, by yourself.” He frowned, reluctant.

“Hey, if I can't have some fun kicking Para-Demon ass, you might as well for both of us.” She told him, gripping his hand in hers, forcing a smile for him, that didn't quite make it.

“Go. I'll be here, ready and waiting.”

Clark looked between her and the sounds of the battle that the League had gotten going without them. “All right.” He sighed, kissing her gently, then took off with a boom of the sound barrier breaking behind him.

Calea frowned after him, antsy and annoyed, she wanted in on the action, but knew that getting any closer to the Boxes too soon could possibly have dire consequences for the team, the planet and her. So, she paced the ledge that overlooked the city, seeing the blue zigzags of Barry zooming about the place, the glittering effect of Bruce shooting at Para-Demons from the Bat-mobile he had brought with him and flashes of things from Clark and Victor, heat vision, arm cannons, the occasionally hyped yell from Arthur, and the few times Diana connected her gauntlets together, letting out a harsh, ringing shockwave.

It wasn't five minutes after the battle began that a sharp and icy cold spike speared through her mind, driving her to her knees with a yelp of pain. She moaned, fingers digging into the debris filled soil, trying to fight the ever increasing call of the Boxes, the images they keep flashing through her mind and the whispers that kept taunting and enticing her to join them. She took deep and gasping breaths, trying to push them out and ignore them, but it was getting harder for her to fight them off.

She groaned and coughed, before throwing up into the dirt and sat back on her heels. “You won't win.” She mewled to the Boxes. “I am stronger than you and everything you throw at me. There is nothing you can do that will make me submit to you.”

“Not even your greatest fear?” The Boxes rasped back inside her mind.

“I have no fear, no weakness.” She growled back, feeling their pressure on her brain magnify, making her eyes water and blur. “There is nothing in me you can exploit. I came to terms with them long ago, they are useless for you.”

“You think that, princess.”

A bubble of strong energy swept across her face, nearly knocking her backwards with the force. Wiping the dirt and tears out of her face, Calea's stomach dropped, the entire city was leveled and nothing stirred inside of it. She struggled to her feet, scrambling to the edge of the ledge and scanned the area, not picking up any heartbeats.

“Clark.” She whimpered, then launched herself off the top of the cliff, racing towards the city, in hopes of finding any one of the League alive and unharmed. “Barry.” She gulped, finding him laying under a pile of rubble, dead.

She picked her way through the city, finding Diana, Victor and Arthur's bodies, all of them dead. Pain and grief ripped through her as she reached the center, where the Mother Boxes were still alive and humming, almost completely one Box, Bruce knelt before them, severely injured, but somehow still alive, holding on by a thread.

“Bruce!” Calea cried out, rushing towards him. “Bruce, look at me.” She huffed, cupping his bloody face in her hands. “What happened? Where's Clark?” She demanded, trying to get him to focus on her.

“He turned on us.” Bruce moaned and coughed, droplets of blood spraying from his lips.

“What?”

“Touch them, Calea.” Clark's voice called behind them as he landed on the long walkway leading up to the Boxes. “Touch them, so we can be one.” He told her with a sweet smile, that didn't reach his eyes. “This is our destiny, why we were brought together. Why we are the bridge between the universe and Earth.”

“Don't.” Bruce rasped, shaking his head at her. “It's a trap. He's been working with Steppenwolf and Darkseid, the whole time. He was luring you into this, lying and manipulating you into completing the Unity.”

“Don't listen to him, Calea!” Clark roared, growing dangerously angry, his eyes glowing red hot. “He's keeping you from your potential, your true purpose in this world.” He barked at her, stepping closer. “He's jealous of us, he wants you for himself. Take my hand and we'll be together, forever.” He enticed her.

Calea looked between Clark and Bruce, confused and conflicted on what to believe, but shook her head. “No.” She barked back, standing up. “No, this isn't real. This isn't true. You're both lying to me!” She screamed, turning in a circle. “This won't work!” She yelled, looking around her, knowing it was an illusion by the Mother Boxes.

“It's real.” Bruce hissed, suddenly jumping to his feet.

“No!” Clark roared, as Bruce leveled one of his gadgets at Calea and fired, hitting her square in the chest and sent her stumbling backwards. “Calea!” He cried, rushing towards her, catching her as she fell to the ground. “No, no. Please, no.” He gasped, watching blood bubble out of her chest. “Why didn't you listen to me! Why didn't you just give them what they wanted!” He berated her, clutching her to his chest, a tear dripping down his cheek.

“Please, I love you.” He whimpered at her, feeling and hearing her heart start to slow. “You're my world, don't leave me.” He begged her as she stilled and grew quiet in his arms.

Clark let out an ear splitting scream that echoed outward, his heartbreak and angry ringing out across the Universe.

Calea clawed at her chest, still able to feel the pain of Bruce's weapon, but found nothing, not a drop of blood or a single scratch. “Oh, you bastards.” She hissed, still on her hands and knees.

“This is what will happen, if you do not Unify the Boxes, Selian. They will all die, as will you.” The Boxes growled back, like nails on a chalkboard. “If you do not do this, this world is doomed, and your love will be lost, an aid to Darkseid, his greatest weapon and General.”

Calea stayed in place, debating on whether or not she should go to the Boxes, what if they were playing her again, they surely were, but there felt like an element of truth to their words and visions as well. Taking a deep breath, Calea pushed herself to her feet, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment to regain her balance and center of mind, before a static-y aura sizzled around her and she snapped from the ledge to down in the city. She appeared just as Bruce was ejected from his wrecked Bat-mobile and caught him mid-air, setting him back down on his feet, but as their bare skin touched and a strong pulse thumped between them, tapping into something deep in Bruce's mind.

She gripped onto him tighter, wanting to see it clearer.

It was the same apocalyptic world she had seen in her nightmare the night before, Clark, dark and evil, working for Darkseid, his greatest weapon. Bruce was one of the last Justice League members, trying to survive the desert wasteland. The deaths of Diana and Arthur left only Bruce, Barry and Victor together, followed and grouped with several others, another Atlantean, by the look of her clothing, a man with a white Mohawk and a missing eye, and a long haired man, wearing a SWAT vest and strange make up. The struggling resistance against Darkseid and the world that Steppenwolf and the Mother Boxes had created for his arrival. The group argued about something she couldn't hear, but they suddenly became afraid and out of the sky someone landed ahead of them.

Clark.

His expression was maniacal, the energy he gave off, even through the dream or vision, was far worse, unhinged and diabolical. He wasn't the man, the Kryptonian, that she knew, that either of them knew. He had lost his ability to care, his compassion and empathy dried up and gone. He glared at the group of survivors, his heat vision warming up, turning his empty and angry blue eyes a glowing red.

“Clark, please.” Bruce begged him, putting up his hands in desperation. “Don't do this! This isn't who you are!”

“Who I am, Bruce?” Clark hissed back, tilting his head at the Bat. “You would know about who I am, wouldn't you?” He taunted him, taking a step closer to him. “You knew who I was once, before you took her from me. She is what made me who I was. She was the only thing that mattered to me, she was my world, my reasoning.”

The searing hot beams of his heat vision burst from his eyes, melting through everyone behind Bruce, killing them.

“But, you got her killed, and I promised her, I would make you pay, and I will.” He growled, grabbing Bruce by the throat and taking off into the sky.

The vision didn't stop there either, she caught the glimpse of Barry appearing to Bruce through a wormhole he generated, coming back in time. “It's her.” Barry said in a watery voice. “She's the key, she's always been the key.”

“Calea?” Bruce's voice broke through to her. “Calea!” He called again, yanking his hand out of hers, recalling her to the present. “What are you doing down here, we're not ready for you yet.” He scolded her, concerned, as she shook her head, trying to dislodge the images that coincided with her dream and what the Mother Boxes were showing her.

“I have to do this, or we're all doomed.” She whimpered, stepping away from him. “Clark, especially.”

“What are you talking about?” Bruce frowned, shaking his head at her.

“The dream you had, about Clark turning bad and working for Darkseid, because of my apparent death.” She told him, meeting his eyes. “I've had a similar one and the Mother Boxes have been showing it to me as well.”

Bruce froze, taken aback by her words. “So, it is possible?”

“It could be, if I don't get to those Boxes and stop them.” She replied, her eyes looking over to the abandoned nuclear tower that Steppenwolf had set the Mother Boxes up in.

“Wait, we're almost done here!” Bruce called out to her, as she started in the tower's direction.

“So are the Boxes.” She replied, before bounding closer to the tower and out of earshot of Bruce.

“We have a problem.” Bruce barked over communication, just as a pair of Para-demons showed up to fight him. “Calea is heading for the Boxes.”

“That's not good.” Barry reported back, zipping around his own Para-Demon problem.

“I'll go and check on her, you guys keep fighting.” Victor replied, powering up his thrusters and headed in that direction.

Calea landed on the walkway that led to the center of the nuclear tower, finding Steppenwolf there with the Mother Boxes and a small swarm of Para-Demons. The pull of the Boxes were a hundred times greater inside the tower than outside of it, almost making Calea dizzy and numb to everything around her, but them. Steppenwolf turned, as the Para-Demons twisted their heads to look over at her, and smiled smugly, seeing her standing there.

“Ah, Princess, so you've decided to join us after all.” He chuckled at her. “Or should I say, Queen, being you would have succeeded your parents after their needless deaths.”

“I haven't come to join you.” Calea replied, sneering at him. “I've come to see you and Darkseid. I won't let you destroy this world or the people in it.”

“Your concern for these puny humans is laughable, Selian. Wasting your potential and power on these mortals, instead of basking in the glory that could be yours.”

“There is no glory in commanding a wasteland.” She hissed back, body tensing against the growing battle of the Boxes and the fight that was about to happen between herself and Steppenwolf.

“If you won't join us willingly, then you will be forced to!” Steppenwolf barked, then hissed at his Para-Demons. “Bring her to me.”

Screeching, the Para-Demons started after her, but Calea stood her ground, growling at him as they neared her, but before they could, she slapped her cupped hands together, sending out a massive shockwave that ripped through the pursuing demons and knocked them backwards, obliterating their insect-like wings at the same time, causing them to drop out of the sky and crashing to the ground below. Steppenwolf growled at the disposal of his minions, gripping his axe tighter in both hands and advanced on Calea himself, raising the weapon above his head.

She was ready and waiting for him, looking forward to battling the monster that had killed her parents and destroyed her home, so many people's homes. She side stepped his downward swing of his weapon and punched him in the side, making him grunt and fly sideways, then advanced on him, hitting him again and sending him back farther.

“Coming through!” Victor yelled, sailing over Calea's head and collided with Steppenwolf as he recovered.

“You think I'm letting you have all the fun!” Calea called back, joining in with him.

Calea and Victor fought back and forth with Steppenwolf, dodging and blocking his blows, while returning them. Steppenwolf tossed Victor off of him and halfway across the tower, before grabbing Calea by the shoulder, picking her up off the ground, her feet dangling as she struggled with him.

“You were never meant to defeat me.” He hissed, steadily squeezing her shoulder more and more, the bones underneath creaking and protesting the pressure.

“Good thing she's not alone!” Diana's voice called back as she and Arthur joined in on the fight.

“Damn right!” Arthur cried in agreement, banging the end of his trident on the ground, three times, before charging Steppenwolf with Diana.

“Hm.” Steppenwolf huffed, tossing Calea over the side of the walkway.

Calea cried out as she landed on her back, all the air leaving her body. She laid there, painfully wheezing as she watched Arthur sail towards Steppenwolf, his trident held out in front of him, ready to stab him through with it, while Diana descended upon him, her sword poised above her head to come down on him. A crackle of energy popped in the air for a moment, before Barry skidded to a stop beside her, kneeling down.

“Oh my gosh, are you all right?” He asked, hands poised above her, but unsure if he should touch her or not.

“I'm f-fine.” Calea wheezed back, pushing herself up on her elbows. “Go help th-them.”

“Right.” He nodded and was gone again.

Calea pulled herself up, panting and shrugging at the soreness of her shoulder and arm, her eyes going to the unguarded Mother Boxes. Catching her breath, she pushed off the ground, jumping up to the landing beside them. Their strength was almost nauseating at this range, but she pushed through it, moving to stand beside them, sparks jumping between the slowly merging Boxes. She reached out to them, the sparks jumping to the tips of her fingers.

“Calea, no!” Clark's voice rang out as he landed on the other side of the Boxes. “Don't touch them.”

Sighing, Calea looked across at him. “It's the only way, Clark.” She replied, feeling it now, the call between her DNA as the Father Box and the makeup of the Mother Boxes.

The only way for her to stop the Unity between them, was for Calea to become one with them, destroying them from the inside out.

“It's the only way.”

“No, there's has to be another way.” He tried convincing her, looking over his shoulder to the team, still trying to keep Steppenwolf occupied. “Let us deal with Steppenwolf, then we'll figure this out.”

“It'll be too late by then, Clark.” She cooed back at him, smiling at him softly. “I love you.” She whispered, before pushing her hands into the active Boxes.

Calea gasped as the Boxes grabbed a hold of her, physically and mentally, her back arching as they all surged together. Clark started forward, as a blast from Calea and the Mother Boxes knocked him and everyone else away, like it wanted to keep them from stopping what was about to happen. The worn and uncared for concrete and steel rebar structure of the tower around them groaned, cracking and flaking, running debris down all around them. Calea tried pulling back from the Boxes, but they only pulled her in farther each time she did, from her hands, all the way up to her elbows. Electricity surged and crackled between her and the Boxes, sending out huge bolts of lightning to strike every surface in the tower.

Her eyes glowed bright blue, brighter than they ever had in her life, as the League watched in awe and frightened disbelief, Calea's strength and pain mounted, reaching an all new fevered-pitch.

“My god.” Victor gasped, mouth dropping open as the Mother Boxes slowly started to shrink in size.

“What's happening?” Diana asked, slack jawed as well.

“She's absorbing them.” Victor replied. “Or they're absorbing themselves into her, I can't tell which.”

The Mother Boxes vanished and Calea swayed on her feet, her chin dropping to her chest as her head throbbed and felt heavier than anything she could describe, then fell to her knees, eyes falling shut. Everything was still and quiet for a moment, no one daring to move, scared that if they did, it would only speed up what was brewing around them.

“Yes.” Steppenwolf finally hissed, standing up and smiling at her, excited for this change of events. “It's completed.” He chuckled, looking to the League. “You've failed.” He laughed at them.

“Calea?” Clark called out, pulling himself up onto his feet.

Her head lifted at the sound of his voice, tilting slightly, as she opened her eyes again, they were still bright blue and alive with the electric power that was stored inside of her, but they didn't stay that way. It was like dropping midnight black ink into water, slowly spreading and clouding until there was nothing left, but darkness. Her glowing blue eyes turned a solid black, but lost none of their charged properties.

“Oh no.” Diana gasped, realizing the Mother Boxes had managed to take full control over Calea, turning her dark. “Calea, no!” She called out, watching Calea rise to her feet, like she was being pulled up by an invisible string.

“Yes!” Steppenwolf yelled back. “Open the portal! Let Darkseid and his forces rule this world!” He declared, gripping his Electro Axe tighter in his hands.

Sparks of energy weaved their way around her fingers and up her arms, like teeny electrical caterpillars. She turned her hand palm up, an orb of blue energy pooled in her hand and then the other one, where she pushed them together and pulled them apart again, like kneading and stretching dough. She turned on her heels and took several steps towards the edge of the central platform, hands wide apart and the ball of energy the same size, before flicking her wrists sharply, throwing the bubble of power out of her hands to suspend in the mid-air to continue spreading.

Within moments the web of energy she created turned into a massive portal between Apokolips and Earth, revealing DeSaad and Darkseid waiting on the other side of it, with an even bigger army of Para-Demons.

“Now!” Steppenwolf roared, a feeling of accomplished victory in the pit of his stomach, his redemption and restorative to his former glory and power. “Kill them!” He ordered her, pointing to the League, behind him.

Calea turned her attention to them and every member of the League tensed, making her smirk at them. She advanced on the first of them that was closest to her, which just happened to be Barry. He tried to charge himself up to get away from her, but as he started to run away, Calea matched his speed, grabbing onto him by his homemade suit, before spinning on her heels, still moving quickly, and let go of him, sending him spinning and spiraling across the room and crashing through the wall on the other side. Shrugging her shoulders and cracking her neck, Calea continued, her eyes locking on Diana and Arthur next.

Diana took a deep breath, not wanting to hurt her friend, but she knew she would be forced to defend herself against Calea's attack.

“I'm sorry.” She sighed, shaking her head.

“Not like you will be.” Calea hissed back, darkly.

Diana raised her hands to bring her gauntlets together, but Calea jumped forward, bounding over the space between them and grabbed Diana's wrists, yanking them apart and pulling Diana closer to her, while lifting her bent knee, driving it into Diana's stomach and knocking her back into Arthur. Victor tried sneaking up behind her, but her head snapped sideways, slapping her hand on his metal chest and stopping him, like a mac-truck smashing into a solid brick wall.

“Weak.” Calea growled in a voice that was not her own. “You were created from us, but you are weak, a failure. We do not abide by failure.” She sneered, pushing her hand harder into Victor's chest.

A burst of cold air hit Calea, Clark blowing a long stream of it over her, gaining her attention. She didn't react like she had the first time he blew his frost breath on her. Tossing Victor aside, Calea turned towards Clark and took a deep breath, sucking the icy air into herself, until Clark stopped. His eyes went wide as she let all that cold out through her nose, like the angry breath of a bull. She was completely unaffected by it, and everyone else's attempts to stop her.

“Kal-El.” She chuckled, her force still disembodied. “Last son of Krypton. Join us, reach the same level of power and potential your world has.”

Clark's brows creased and drew down over his eyes, a voice echoing in his head. 'The Mother Boxes exploit one's weakness.'

“I'm your weakness.” He whimpered, the reality punching him in the gut.

“That's right, Clark Kent.” She replied, grinning at him. “Almost six thousand years and the only weakness this Royal Prime Selian has is...you.” She threw her head back and laughed, the sound of it echoed. “Who needs Kryptonite, when we have Calea Stormborn to destroy you, and when she's done killing you, Superman, she will end up tearing herself apart, with the dark and painful memory of killing the alien she loves more than herself.”

The moment she finished the sentence, she was colliding with Clark, sending them both flying backwards. They tumbled to the ground, Clark managing to get the upper hand, pinning her down to the dirt, staring into her pure black eyes, like they were a pair of black holes.

“Fight this, Calea.” He growled between clenched teeth. “You are stronger than this.” He barked, slamming his fists on either sides of her head.

“I am stronger.” Calea hissed back, before striking Clark across the face with her elbow, sending him flying off of her, and got up, to advance on him.

“Hey!” A voice rang out, with three distinct, metallic bangs.

Calea turned, just in time to watch Arthur throw his trident at her, like a javelin. Tilting her head at it, she simply raised her hand and caught it, by the middle tang, then shifted her grasp on it. Holding it by the handle, she regarded the long weapon and twirled it, before grasping the handle in both hands, met Arthur's eye again, and snapped it over her knee, like a toothpick. Arthur's mouth dropped open as she tossed the two pieces to the ground, smiling smugly at him. Her attention now on Arthur, she forgot about Clark, but before she could reach him, something tight wrapped around her arm, tugging her sideways, making her growl in annoyance.

“You need to calm down.” Bruce said, tugging on her with his bat grapple again. “Remember why you're here.”

“This is so much worse than Pet Cemetery.” Barry wheezed, watching the two of them.

Growling, Calea wrapped her hand around the wire of the grapple and started pulling back. “I know why I am here, Bruce Wayne. Why are you?” She inquired, a murderous smirk on her face. “To die, I suppose.” She chuckled, reeling him in, his boots sliding in the dirt.

“Calea Stormborn of Selion.” Diana called from the other side, spinning her lasso above her head and flicking it out towards Calea. “This is not who you are.” She said, her lasso wrapping around Calea's waist, like a golden snake.

Calea groaned as the lasso squeezed around her middle and the power of the lasso whispered around the voices of the Mother Boxes. “No.” She growled, shaking her head, gripping the lasso with her other hand, pulling on both Bruce and Diana.

“Stop.” She barked, the light in her eyes faltering.

“Calea, you must fight this!” Clark called back to her, steadying himself on his feet.

“There has to be something we can do?” Arthur hissed, glaring down at his broken trident.

“I might be able to do something.” Victor replied, apprehensively. “I might be able to mentally merge with her and the Mother Boxes, we're all part of the same technology. If I can do that, I could help her through whatever mental turmoil they're putting her through.”

“Do it.” Clark implored him, watching Calea struggle.

“I'll need a charge.” Victor said, studying Calea. “She was able to click into them by the electrical charge she can naturally produce.”

“I might be able to reproduce the charge.” Barry chimed in, gulping. “I'll have to break my golden rule, but if I can run long enough and fast enough, I-I..I can do some pretty crazy things with the speed of light.” He explained to them, pressing his fingers into his eyes.

“Do it.” Bruce barked, gritting his teeth as his grip started to slip.

Clark snapped to Bruce, taking the grapple from him, owning his strength with Diana's to keep Calea in place. “Calea, you can fight this.” He growled, teeth gritted as he and Diana struggled to keep her restrained.

“Barry, you might wanna break that rule soon, she's only getting angrier and stronger.” Victor said, watching as Calea wrapped her hands around the wire of Bruce's grapple and the glowing strands of the Lasso, every muscle in her body tensing and flexing to yank Clark and Diana in towards her.

“Right.”

Barry nodded, took a deep breath, flexing his arms and legs, building a static charge, before dashing out of the nuclear tower and started zipping around the area in a wide circle, creating a barrier of blue and red as he succeeded in breaking the barrier. The harder Barry ran the harder it was for him to keep going, feeling the drag and pull of gravity, his feet slipping and struggling to keep traction on the ground.

“Victor!” He called out, trembling. “I've reached it.”

“All right!” Victor replied, readying himself behind Calea. “On one, Barry!”

Calea tried to twist around to swipe Victor away from her, but couldn't quite make it with Diana and Clark's hold onto her, making her growl and thrash with angry agitation. “No! She's ours!” She roared, planting her feet in the dirt, tensing and rolling her shoulders, a loud, almost deafening hum filling the concrete room, emanating from her.

“Three...Tw-”

“No!” Steppenwolf howled, jumping down from the walkway above as he watched them try to keep Calea restrained and attempting to break her free from the influence of the Mother Boxes. “You shall not stop us!” He boomed as he landed.

Steppenwolf swung his axe, striking Diana square in the chest and sending her flying backwards, breaking her grip on her lasso, and Calea. Smirking, Calea turned her head towards Clark and gripped the grapple wire in both hands and yanked as hard as she could. Clark tried digging in his heels, but the dirt and dust on the ground easily gave away, dragging him closer and closer to her.

“You can't hurt us, Kryptonian.” She hissed at him, as Clark raised a fist. “If you hurt us, you hurt her.” She taunted him, grinning and laughing at him.

Clark hesitated, it was true, whatever they did to stop the rampage the Mother Boxes had set Calea on, they would be harming her as well. He sighed and shook his head, knowing it was a double edged sword, hurting Calea and the Boxes stalling them with that fact.

“I have no qualms about that.”

“Ryder!” Bruce gasped, watching him stride over to Calea.

Ryder reached Calea and drove his fist into her stomach, doubling her over with the force. “I can't believe you'd be so stupid.” He scolded her.

Calea straightened up, her pitch black eyes narrowing at him, the markings on her body started to glow and the hum coming off of her only grew louder. Her arm shot out, striking Ryder in the chest and launching him backward, before advancing on him.

“Victor, I can't maintain this!” Barry's distorted voice warbled through the group's communications, his grasp on his speed slowing.

“We need to get her and Victor together.” Bruce said, watching Arthur and Diana try to help Ryder hold Calea off.

“I might be able to help.” Diana panted, grabbing her shield from the ground and dropped to a knee. “Victor get into position.” She told him, lifting her arm and slammed her gauntlet down on the edge of the shield, just as Victor lined up behind Calea.

The shockwave from Diana shoved Calea backwards, leaving deep trenches in the ground from her feet. Victor reached out for Calea as she was pushed back into him, giving Barry the signal to come as well, bringing his massive charge with him. Steppenwolf hissed as he saw what they were doing and tried to intercept them, but Clark put himself between them, Steppenwolf's axe connecting to Clark's shoulder, but it only made him chuckle, the sharp blade of the weapon not even leaving a mark on his regeneration suit.

“Not impressed.” He said, blowing a stream of icy cold breath over the axe, making it cold and brittle, then shattered it with a swift punch.

Steppenwolf gasped, taking several steps back as his axe crumbled to nothing. “No.” He mewled, blinking at his empty hands.

“You're too late.” Bruce added.

Victor's hand touched Calea's tense shoulder and a millisecond later, Barry's charged up hand touched Victor's own shoulder, a strong electric current passing from Barry's fingers and body, coursing through Victor and passing to Calea. It felt like a snap between Calea and Victor, both gasping at the sudden feeling, eyes wide as the two of them mentally became one, merging together.

Victor blinked, looking around at his new surroundings. He was some place he had never seen before and quickly understood it was another planet altogether. Scanning the area, Victor started off to the East of his current location, glancing up at the sky, a mix of midnight blue and black, the air was cool and sweet smelling, but a low humidity blanketed everything, had Victor been more human than Cyborg, he might have broken out into a light sweat as he moved through the tall, emerald green blades of grass and foliage, following an odd point of crystal blue light in the distance.

“Calea?” He called out, seeing her shadowy figure.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice replied, turning to face him, holding the shimmering light Victor had seen.

“Looking for you.” Victor replied, frowning at her. “What is that?” He asked, motioning to the glowing object.

Calea smiled down at her hands, caressing the smooth and silky petals. “It's a Moon Blossom.” She answered, lifting it to her nose and smiled at it, it was sweet and creamy, then held it out to Victor, who gently took it from her. “They only bloom on a full moon.” She told him, looking up at the mostly shield moon, through the leafy canopies above them.

“Dove!” A voice called out from the dark.

“It's all right.” Calea said, gently touching Victor's cool, metal arm. “Over here, Papa!” She called back, grinning. “It's my father.” She told him, chipper and excited as the tall figure of her father appeared between two trees, a bundle of Moon Blossoms in his arms.

“Who's this, Dove?” Calien asked, looking Victor over with a suspicious eye.

“This is my friend, Victor.” Calea explained to him, the smile never fading from her face. “I met him on Earth.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you.” Calien replied, the suspicion never left his voice and eyes.

“You as well, sir.” Victor answered, recognizing Calien's hostility towards him.

He had no doubt the Mother Boxes were projecting themselves as her parents and Calien's hostility was them trying to keep Victor from pulling Calea away from them. A rustling to their left produced Calea's mother, and Victor was struck by how much mother and daughter looked alike.

“Look, love! I found a large cluster of Moon Bloss--?” Solea started, a smile on her gorgeous face, but stopped seeing Victor, her eyes darkening.

“Victor, I'm a friend of your daughter's.” Victor told her, knowing that would be next.

“Are you?” Solea replied, lifting a brow at him.

“Yes, ma'am.” He nodded, trying to be respectful, so nothing happened.

“Do you want to pick Moon Blossoms with us?” Calea asked, smiling up at Victor.

Victor licked his lips and looked between the three of them, calculating his options. “Sure.” He nodded, meeting Calea's excited eye.

“Excellent.” Calea grinned, bouncing on her toes, then took his hand and followed her mother to where she found the cluster of flowers, Calien following behind them.

“Mama!” A small voice rang out.

“Hey, buddy!” Calea called back, dropping to a knee and opening her arms to the little boy running head on for her.

“Nana found a bunch of flowers!” He said, hugging her arms around his mother's neck.

“Did she?” Calea chuckled, hugging him back.

“Do you think we could take some back to Daddy?” He asked, looking into her eyes.

“Of course!” She nodded, letting him go. “He'll love them.”

“Yay!” He cheered, then ran back off to pick the glowing flowers with his grandparents.

“Who is that?” Victor asked as Calea stood, brushing dirt off her skirt.

“That's Eric.” Calea replied, smiling proudly at the little boy, watching him and her parents bond over the flowers.

“Who's his father?”

Calea laughed and grinned up at Victor. “Did you hit your head?” She asked, amused and concerned for her friend. “He's Clark's.”

“And where is Clark?”

“Back on Earth, silly boy.” She chided him, shaking her head. “Eric and I are here visiting my parents. You know Clark, he worries about being too far away from Earth, Superman has to watch over the Earthlings.”

Victor glanced at Eric, Solea and Calien, seeing them distracted, then took a hold of Calea's hand, staring deep into her eyes. “Calea, this isn't real.”

“What are you talking about?” She chuckled, her smile slightly faltering as she looked up at him. “Of course this is real.”

“No, Calea.” Victor shook his head at her. “The Mother Boxes are trying to trick you into thinking this is real, while in reality, you're destroying the League and Earth.” He tried explaining and convincing her. “This is a dream, Calea. The Boxes are showing you want you want, not what is real.”

“They’re showing you your dream to have your parents alive again, to have a life and family with Clark.”

“But, we destroyed the Boxes, years ago.” She shook her head at him, dread filling her. “Everything was put to rights.”

“It's a lie.” Victor spread his arms out, motioning all around them. “This is a lie! Steppenwolf killed your parents, he decimated all of Selion and it's people, leaving only you. Your son, Eric isn't real either. Maybe one day he can be, but it's not this day.”

Calea squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head and trembling. “No.” She whimpered, gulping. “No.”

“Yes, Calea.” He nodded, shoulders slumping as he watched her start to crumble.

“Then, what are you doing here? Why are you here? How are you here?”

“I came to help you.” Victor replied, tilting his head at her. “With the power of the Boxes and the Unity Key combined together inside of you, you've become incredibly strong. You've outmatched everyone on the League and opened the portal between Earth and Apokolips. Darkseid and his army of Para-Demons are on their way, and the only way to stop them, is for you to pull out of this lie the Boxes are feeding you, to keep you controlled and doing their bidding, or they and you will kill everyone.”

“Including Clark.” He added as a last ditch effort push.

“Calea, are you alright, love?” Solea asked, approaching her and Victor.

“What did you say to me, before you sent me to Earth with the Mother Boxes?” Calea asked her, opening her eyes.

Solea smiled at her daughter. “You know what I said, Dove.”

“I don't remember.” Calea replied, shaking her head, brow creasing. “Remind me, mama.” She cooed at her mother, sweetly.

“I told you, I loved you and I would miss you.” Solea replied, reaching out to gently caress Calea's cheek.

Calea tilted her head into the touch, sighing gently. “It's funny.” She whispered softly.

“What is, dove?” Her father cooed, stepping up beside her mother, Eric hugging his grandfather's leg.

Calea looked deep into her mother's eyes, eyes that mirrored her own. “That you have so much access to my life, my past memories, my present and my future, but you couldn't dig out something so apparently vital, that I only now understand.” She said, her eyes started to glow.

“'You are the bridge.'” She quoted the last words her mother ever said to her. “That is what she said to me, before I left, and I am the bridge, between Selians, Kryptonians and Humans, a bridge across the universes.”

“What has he poisoned your mind with?” Calien hissed, looking to Victor.

“The truth.” Victor replied, turning to face them.

Calea pressed her arms to her sides, wrists bent and palms facing the ground of grass and glowing Moon Blossoms. “I am done.” She hissed, bolts of electricity crackling up her arms, flashing between her fingers, her eyes glowing brighter than the flowers at her feet.

“Calea, honey?” Solea called to her, but her mother's voice was no longer her own, it was foreign and alien.

“I am tired of people telling me what I have to do, what I should do. What I can and should or shouldn't be. My whole life.” She growled, static filled the area around them, making the hairs on everyone's bodies stand on end.

“Not. Any. More!” Calea barked, as a massive surge of electricity and lightning pooled out of her palms and into the ground, electrocuting everything around her, the world around her blurred, like a pixelated glitch on a screen, everything, but Calea and Victor, the two real things in the simulation the Boxes had created around them.

“Look!” Barry called out, pointing to Calea and Victor.

Everyone looked to them, seeing the pulsing currents weave around Calea's body and affecting Victor's, the inky blackness of her eyes slowly changed into the bright blue color of her mighty power that resided inside of her.

“She's gonna blow.” Barry gulped, watching the tentacles of electricity surged out from her feet and across the ground to vanish.

Calea screamed out, a blue rippling wave rocketing out from her body, knocking the team and Steppenwolf backwards, before dropping to her knees, breathing heavily. Calea blinked several times, trying to clear her vision and shook her head, her mind felt like it was wrapped in thick cotton that had been statically charged. Her body was numb and tingly, but she could feel everything around her, hyper aware of the way everyone was breathing, their hearts beating like drums in her ears and against her skin, the chilly air, the smell of energy and lingering radiation in the air, the scent of blood, sweat and strong emotions plugging up her sinuses.

Coughing and clearing her throat, she stood, her equilibrium tilting and swaying as she accumulated and returned to normal, no longer under the control of the Mother Boxes, she was now in control of them. Creaking her neck and flexing her shoulders, Calea turned her attention to Steppenwolf as she pushed himself back up to his own feet.

“Steppenwolf.” She hissed, teeth bared at him.

“Impossible.” He hissed back, looking her over.

“Nothing is impossible with the Unity.” She replied, grinning at him, feeling the jitters of adrenaline and power course through her body, enjoying the rush it gave her. “I've waited five thousand years for this moment to happen.” She panted, licking her lips.

“And I'm going to enjoy it.” She laughed, the sound echoing, as she blinked across the gap between them, using the velocity to give weight to her punch as her knuckles connected to his face, sending him through the wall of the nuclear tower.

“Calea!” Clark shouted as she followed after him.

She looked towards Clark and grinned at him, then continued on, stalking after Steppenwolf. Bounding through the opening his body made, she found him still laying on the ground and grabbed his foot, spinning quickly on her heels and let him go, throwing him back through the tower wall, a section of it crumbling in his wake. As Steppenwolf fell from her last throw, Calea suddenly appeared above him, driving her feet down into his chest, causing him to slam into the ground and leave a massive crater around his landing.

“Jesus.” Bruce gasped, mouth hanging open. “She's almost, if not even stronger, than you now, Clark.” He commented, looking at his friend.

Clark half smiled at him and Calea, mesmerise by her new show of force and strength against Steppenwolf and Darkseid.

Jumping into the crater, Calea grabbed Steppenwolf and jumped up to the now unstable walkway where the portal to Apokolips was. Looking at each other, the League scrambled into joining her. Darkseid, DeSaad and all of their minions stared back at them. Calea tossed Steppenwolf down and looked straight into Darkseid's eyes.

“Darkseid!” She roared, pressing her foot down on Steppenwolf's ankle, keeping him in place and making him howl in pain. “Destroyer and Conqueror of worlds across the Universe.” She called out to him.

“Uxas.”

Darkseid growled, turning his glowing orange eyes on Calea, acknowledging her. “Selian.” His voice echoed back through the portal.

“Your uncle, your General and herald.” She applied even more pressure to Steppenwolf's ankle, the crunch of bone echoing in the air. “Your greatest betrayer, has failed you once again; once and for all.” She sneered down at Steppenwolf with deep disgust, bending down and picking him up by the metal fingers of his armor.

“Your stay on this plant has reached its end, Steppenwolf.” She hissed at him, seeing the League move restlessly from the corners of her eyes.

Smirking, Calea shoved Steppenwolf away, throwing him backwards towards the portal as Diana drew her sword from behind her and jumped into the air, letting out an Amazonian cry, before letting her sword slice through his outstretched neck, like a knife through butter. Steppenwolf's body fell to the floor and slid across the platform, stopping just short of the portal, while his head, his face permanently in an expression of shocked disbelief, kept going, crossing through the portal and skidding to a stop before Darkseid, who stopped it with his foot, crushing it under his mighty boot.

“Your attempt on this planet is null and void, Darkseid.” Calea told him, the League stepping up behind her, showing their support in her words and Earth. “You will never conquer Earth, so long as any, and all of us, live.” She told him, pushing her hands out in front of her, the portal blinking and wavering as she did.

“We will see, little Selian.” Darkseid rasped, just as Calea clapped her hands together and the portal collapsed, breaking the connection between Earth and Apokolips, for good.

Clark quickly wrapped his arms around Calea's waist as her knees wobbled and she started to go limp. “Are you all right?” He panted into her ear, chin resting on her shoulder as he hugged her against his chest.

“I'm fine.” She sighed back, head resting back against his chest. “Just spent a lot of energy.”

“That was fantastic, I mean...wow!” Barry giggled, glancing around, thrilled by the excitement and relieved that it was all over and everyone was alive. “You scared us. I literally thought you were going to erase us, like it was the Matrix or something.” He chattered, goodheartedly.

Bruce let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head and smirking. “Is this over?” He asked, looking to Calea.

“It's over.” She nodded, supporting herself now, but Clark's arm remained around her waist. “Unless Darkseid uses the old ways and commands his armada of ships to come traverse across the universe to knock on Earth's atmosphere.” She mostly quipped, but her voice held an edge of concern and worry that he would.

“Let's not think of that now.” Diana said, wiping Steppenwolf's blood off her sword's blade. “For now, we have a victory and should enjoy it.”

“I agree.” Arthur replied, then trained his eyes on Calea. “You broke my mother's Trident.” He informed her, holding up the two pieces.

“I am so sorry.” Calea frowned, surprised at her unruly behavior and hurt, that she had allowed the Boxes to take such control over her. “If there's any way I can repay the slight..”

“You paid for it already.” Arthur replied, glancing over at Steppenwolf's headless body.

“But, what about the Mother Boxes?” Barry asked, holding up a finger. “Where are they?”

“In me.” Calea replied. “They, the Father Box and Unity Key will reside inside of me.”

“Is that safe?” Bruce frowned, shaking his head.

“I'm one of the only people that can control and maintain their power.” She told them, flat out. “Other than Victor.” She turned to him, resting her hand on his arm. “Thank you.” She whispered softly. “Thank you, for righting me and showing me the truth.”

“What truth?” Clark frowned, blinking at her.

Calea touched his cheek with a trembling hand. “Don't worry about it.” She whispered, pushing up on her sore toes and kissed him, gently. “Everything is all right now, and that's what matters.” She told him, squeezing his bicep.

“I think Calea is right.” Diana spoke up. “It is clear that with the boxes as physical forms it's too risky and tempting for those seeking their power. If Calea can safely maintain and command them as she is now, then it's for the best.”

“We clearly saw what she can do, when she's controlling them.” Victor added, looking around with a lifted brow. “I think anyone would be mad if they tried taking her on.”

“Anyone is crazy for trying to take her on, with or without the Boxes.” Ryder's soft voice added behind them.

“We all would know that now.” Arthur laughed, feeling a sore spot on his back.

“What are you doing here?” Calea asked, surprised to see Ryder decided to fight among the League after the initial regret of introducing her to the others in the first place.

“You think I would pass up the opportunity to get in a good old fashioned fight?” He chucked at her. “Not in a million years. Besides, I am a member of this world, have been as long as you have. So, what about Steppenwolf's body?” Ryder asked, surveying it.

Taking a deep breath, Clark let Calea go and approached the body, his eyes slowly glowing a bright, cherry red, before letting out two laser beams into Steppenwolf's disfigured body, setting it on fire. Within seconds, there was nothing left of Steppenwolf's body, but a black charred spot on the concrete walkway.

“Well, that solves that problem.” Ryder commented, chuckling as he looked around the group. “Do we have any other reason to be here?” He asked, meeting everyone's eyes.

“No.” Clark shook his head, looking around at the group too.

“Back to the Hall?” Barry asked, biting his lip.

“Yes.” Bruce nodded, feeling the soreness of battle creeping into his body.

With that, the aching and exhausted members of the League set about getting back to the Hall the best way they could and focused on healing and recovering from the third battle and war for Earth.

It was almost a month after the battle and most things had returned to normal.

Barry got a job, with the help and connections of Bruce, in a crime lab; it was a low position, but it would hopefully become something more as time passed and he gained experience and a reputation in the field.

Diana returned to her job as a museum curator at the Louvre, in Paris.

Bruce returned to his nightly crime fighting as Batman in Gotham and running his various businesses.

Victor worked on becoming more comfortable about what he had been turned into after the accident that had technically killed him and had actually took his mother's life, helping people in various ways, and even accepted a job in Star Labs.

Arthur went back to being a, supposed, lone wolf, but helped people that were in danger at sea and on land. He was even able to have his mother's trident fixed back in Atlantis, Vulko have his tricks and Atlantean Technology.

Clark returned to the Daily Planet, working on his journalism and stories for the paper, Perry mostly assigning him to sports related articles, much to his chagrin and annoyance, while still being the glorious and loved Superman; saving people from burning buildings, floods, earthquakes and every other manners of danger.

As for Calea, with the help of Bruce and his money and influence, became a World History Professor at Metropolis University, while she also worked on getting a proper History degree, being both the teacher and the student. Luckily, Calea had five thousand years of historical knowledge, knowing things not even the absolute best scholars knew about various events that happened on Earth and in the Human's timeline.

Even Ryder got a job, working in Wayne Electronics, helping Bruce and his company create and maintain their current technology and come up with new ones, showing them many of the technological wonders of alien advancement.

Each of the members of the Justice League made sure to carry a small beeper-like device on them, so in a moment's notice, they could come together and face whatever it was, usually being set off by Alfred, who was always watchful. But, the biggest turn of events and development happened in the middle of the night in Clark and Calea's new apartment that they had found in Central Metropolis, close to both the university and the Daily Planet.

It was a quite night in Metropolis, minus the noise of the traffic on the street below their bedroom window, but Clark and Calea had long learned how to ignore such things. They were spooned together under the light blankets of their bed, when suddenly, in the still quiet of their room, a thump sounded.

At first, neither of them acknowledged the sound, figuring it to be something on the street below or the neighbor to the side of them. But, when it came again, stronger and more steady, Clark stirred from his sleep, blue eyes searching for a moment, then felt it against the palm of his hand, becoming steady, strong and rhythmic. Calea's eyes popped open, finally recognizing the sound for what it was and turned onto her back; Clark's palm glued to her lean stomach.

“Clark?” She whispered softly, not wanting to drown out the sound with her voice.

“Calea.” He smiled back, an excited giddiness filling him with each strong beat of the tiny thing nestled inside of her. “A baby.” He whispered, shifting and laying his head on her stomach, his eyes closing.

“Our baby.”

“Our baby.” Calea cooed back, stroking his hair and closing her own eyes, listening to the almost synced beats of all three of their hearts together, in their dark and peaceful sanctuary. “Our son.”

Clark turned his head, keeping an ear on her stomach. “You think, we'll have a boy?” He asked, grinning like mad, already thrilled about the idea of being a father.

“I know we'll have a boy.” She replied, caressing the side of his face. “I've seen it so many times over the last several months. Between my dreams and the Boxes...”

“You've seen this?” He asked, his brow creasing.

“I did.” She nodded, touching the pad of her index and middle fingers to his creased brow, caressing it smooth again. “I didn't say anything, because it didn't necessarily mean it'll happen. I saw a lot of things in those moments that haven't and didn't happen.”

“Why did you never tell me?” Clark pressed, concerned.

“I didn't want to worry you about such nonsense, Clark.” She told him, honestly, her own brow creasing. “You worry about me too much already.”

“Well, apparently this isn't nonsense, Calea.” He replied, turning his head and kissing her belly.

“No.” She sighed, smiling and chuckling softly. “He certainly is not.”

“What else about him did you see?” Clark asked, curiously.

“He looks just like you.” She told him, bring up the image of the little boy. “We named him, Eric Jonathan.”

Clark smiled, warmed at the tribute to his adoptive father. “I like it.” He whispered, eyes gently closing, lulled by the sound of their hearts.

Both of them fell asleep like that, Clark's head pillowed on Calea's stomach, her hand still in his soft curls, thumb stroking them mindlessly, and eight and a half months later, Calea birthed their beautiful baby boy.

“You certainly have some strong seed.” Arthur quipped as she and Clark took their newborn to the Hall of Justice to meet everybody. “Getting her pregnant the very first shot.”

“It helps, when my womb certainly doesn't have any Kryptonite in it.” Calea gibed back at him, gently bouncing the baby in her arms as he fussed. “Clark and I are the bridge between our worlds and this one, and our son is the first to cross it.” She said, staring into Eric's sweet face.

“Hopefully, there will be more.” Clark replied, kissing Calea's cheek and resting a gentle hand on Eric, hinting at more than one thing.

-- END --

[roqueamadi]

Planning for a LotR Regency AU (Boromir/OFC)

I'm not going to tag this because it's going to make me look completely insane, but I thought @scyllas-revenge and @trenko-heart you guys might be interested... I have spent way too much time on this (ngl it was fun though xD )

The challenge: How to convert the LotR characters into Jane Austen-style regency characters? I've watched the entire Ellie Dashwood YouTube series to try to ensure I correctly understand how titles and lineages work. Here were my problems and the ways I've decided to tackle them as I plan this fic - some of this may change once I actually start writing, but this is my thought process!

Problem 1: In the regency, people (ie peers/gentry) didn't refer to others by their first names. I had to choose between either: ignoring this historical fact and letting my characters use other characters' first names; making their 'known names' into their titles (eg Lord Boromir is the 'Duke of Boromir'); or, assigning them surnames and having characters refer to each other by names unfamiliar to readers.

I decided to go with the last option which is more historically accurate, principally because if I tried the second option, I would still run into trouble with siblings and parent-children relationships (Faramir is the brother of the Duke of Boromir?? No) - therefore, I'll need to accept that it might be hard for readers to follow who is who in this fic, at first. Eg (as explained below) most other characters will call Boromir 'Lord Ithilien', 'the Lord of Ithilien' or 'Coloniel Hurin'. And to be honest, now that I've stared at this for a few hours I'm actually starting to not mind it that much. I also think it feels more 'Jane Austen-y' for characters to have lots of confusing titles :p However, I think I'll at least let my protagonist 'think of people' by their first names in the narrative, which will assist with clarity.

Problem 2: Most of the characters don't have last names.

Problem 1 leads to this. My answer: I made them up. I tried to pick names from their lineage or alternative names that sounded right. For Denethor's line, I picked 'Hurin'; Aragorn's = 'Telcontar'; Elrond's = 'Peredhel'; Theoden's = 'Eorl' and Eomer+Eowyn's = 'Steelsheen'. I also gave Sauron a first name ('Mairon') and picked a random surname for my protag Cin ('Eradan').

Problem 3: It's extremely unlikely a Steward would be ruling in place of a King.

The more likely scenario (as seen in the regency period itself) is that a Prince Regent rules in place of a King because of illness, absence or minority. I decided to go with the latter - so my idea is that Aragorn's parents died when he was not yet of age and so a Prince Regent took over. This would most likely be his closest living relative - so I decided to make Denethor related to him (I've ended up making Denethor Aragorn's first cousin once removed - any closer and Aragorn would share a surname with Boromir and Faramir, which I didn't want).

Problem 4: Leading on from problem 3... I don't want Boromir to be too closely related to my protag Cin (for obvious reasons!)

I was originally going to make her Aragorn's younger sister, but that would make her and Boromir second cousins. That's a bit too close! So I made her Aragorn's first cousin on his mother's side - so Cin and Boromir are both cousins to Aragorn but have no blood connection to each other. Whew!

Problem 5: I wanted to somehow convert the main conflict of Sauron versus the West into the 'Jane Austen' realm - ie the 'battles' occur mostly during conversations.

I decided to include a plot point like this: Denethor has done something to disgrace himself and get kicked out of the role of Prince Regent (this feeds into Boromir's feelings of inadequacy regarding his line). The next closest relative steps into the role - Sauron! Oh no! This will be the main world conflict of the fic and is the prompt for Aragorn, who is now of age, to return and take up his role, and save his people from the ravages of this unqualified leader. I squeezed Sauron into the family tree as Aragorn's first cousin twice removed.

Problem 6: But, I still want some battles, if not 'on screen' then at least referenced.

This is straight from Sharpe, but my idea is that there is a war going on and many peers' sons have commissions in the Army. Boromir is a Colonel (the highest rank you could purchase), Faramir is a Major (because there's no way in hell Denethor would fork out for a higher rank than that), Theodred was also a Major before he died, Eomer and Legolas are both Captains. And they all go off to fight together, mainly so that Boromir can get injured and give us the opportunity for some h/c xD

Problem 7: So, what happened to Aragorn (and Cin) after his parents died, then? How come Sauron is able to step in and take over?

Sticking reasonably closely to the canon storyline, I decided to make it that Elrond (ALSO a distant relation of Aragorn - second cousin once removed, making Arwen Aragorn's third cousin, which is far enough removed to be okay, I think) stepped in to take care of Aragorn. My idea is that his parents were killed in the same 'accident' as Cin's, so Elrond takes both in as wards. He hides them from society in order to protect them both.

Problem 8: If Aragorn is the Prince, Denethor must be a sufficiently senior peer in order to hold the Prince Regent position (for a time, at least) - even though in Jane Austen most characters are not this senior in rank.

I mean, there's Lady Catherine de Bourgh and a few other mentions of Knights and Earls, etc. But I'm okay with adding peerage titles into this fic because it's fun and I think it fits - the various families must be sufficiently senior otherwise it's not realistic that they're all hanging out together. So I've made Denethor a Duke, which is the most senior rank in the peerage without being actually royal (I went with 'Duke of Osgiliath'). Dukes normally have secondary titles which they lend to their son and heir, so for Boromir I picked 'Earl of Ithilien' (as I mentioned above). I made Elrond a Marquess, and his heir Elladan a Baron, and I made Theoden a Viscount. So all those characters get to be referred to by weird titles!

So, this is becoming a crazy long post, but here's the result of my work:

I think this is going to be too small to see in one image, so I've broken it down. Here is the key and a helpful 'cousin chart', because this gets complex:

And here are the segments.

Here is the line of kings, including Aragorn and Cin (my protag) plus Sauron:

Here is Denethor's line, with our main love interest:

Here is Elrond's line - things are getting a bit awkward for anyone who really deeply knows the canon family trees, but I'm saying that Dior was the younger brother of Argonui (who was Aragorn's great grandfather):

And finally, here is Theoden's line, separate from the rest at the start of the fic, but obviously they ultimately join up in two places (Eowyn = Faramir and later Eomer = Lothiriel:

So that's it. Let me know what you think guys, I had fun thinking through all this. Now I just need to actually write it :p

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 8: Old Friends, Not So New Tricks

Summary: When a familiar face turns up asking for Katie’s expertise, she finds herself confronted by another familiar face, this one being one she would rather never have had to see again.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Blood and SPOILERS if you haven’t seen Agents Of SHIELD….

A/N: Once again huge thanks to @angrybirdcr​ for her edit here, and the new banner for the next couple of sections of the story as we head forward through the next few parts of SSB...

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 7

O/S: Phobias

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

November 2013

There’s a fine line  between success and failure. And that last mission had well and truly teetered its way along the edge. The team had been split up after a catastrophic coms failure leaving Katie and Evans badly compromised.  They had just about got the situation under control after some quick thinking from Katie and very sharp shooting from Evans, when Steve had broken every protocol in place and run head first into a gun fire to get them out, putting himself in danger.

And Katie was livid at him.

“We had it under control!” she said, her voice raised as she stormed through the corridor away from the hangar, people turning to look. They’d been arguing about it all the way home.

“Yeah, well, it didn’t look like it from where I was standing!”

“Damned it Steve!” She spun to face him. “You weren’t standing anywhere, you were running, head first into the crossfire without even thinking about what was going on!”

“The last thing I heard was that you were surrounded-”

“This is EXACTLY what I don’t want you to do!” Katie groaned as she ran her hands over her face “Run in there without a second thought for your own damned safety or anyone else’s.”

“What do you mean anyone else?” Steve’s nostrils flared.

“You left Rumlow and Rollins completely uncovered,” Katie shook her head, “to come and save me. I’m not a fucking princess that needs rescuing Steve!”

“Don’t talk to me like that!” Steve’s voice was loud, displaying the anger he was feeling inside at her attitude. 

“I’ll talk to you how I want!” She snapped back. “You know everyone gossips enough about us as it is and we’re almost seven months down the fucking line…”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“…and yet you STILL give them fuel!” She threw her hands out to the side, bringing them back down to her combat outfit clad sides with a slap. “Oh look at Nova, needs her Super Soldier Boyfriend to bail her out!”

“For the last time…” Steve hissed between his teeth, but Katie completely ignored him.

“If you can’t remain objective when we work together then maybe we shouldn’t be on the same team.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t if that’s how you feel!” He practically snarled, as he took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders back as his hands dropped to his belt buckle, eyes blazing. 

“Glad we understand one another.” Katie spat back, before turning on her heel and heading towards the armoury to change, ignoring his shouts.

****

After debrief, for the first time in ages Steve left work alone. He was in a foul mood, and practically wrenched his apartment door off its hinges. In part he was pissed at Katie’s attitude, but in others his anger was directed at himself because deep down he knew she was right. He’d utterly lost it when he’d heard she was in trouble and hadn’t been able to do anything else but rush in there to help get them out. It was ridiculous, she was a trained agent with a shot on her like you wouldn’t believe, and the amount of times they’d been in bad situations before…but something today, something about the way she’d sounded on the radio had gotten to him and he’d abandoned all thoughts of professionalism and gone after his girl.

Sighing he threw his keys down on the kitchen side and grabbed a beer from the fridge before making his way into the living room, toeing off his boots as he want. He dropped onto the sofa and let out a loud moan of frustration, his head lolling back against the cushions. He hated that they’d rowed, this was the first big argument they’d actually had. Sure they quibbled about small things, the fact he made her sleep on the right hand side of the bed at his because it was furthest away from the door (just in case anyone got in), the way he was a bit of a neat freak and when she did stay for more than a night his apartment looked like a whirlwind had been through it (Ok, he didn’t actually mind that so much in truth), the way she tried on every fucking outfit she owned before they went out (maybe not every outfit, but close enough…), the way he often went for a run first thing in the morning and she’d get pissed he wasn’t there when she woke up because…well, because….but all that was stuff he adored. The normal part of being with someone you were comfortable sharing your life with.

As he took a pull from his bottle his eyes rolled to the right and fell on the large photo frame on his wall. It was one she had made him for his birthday.

“Open the big one first…” She instructed, nodding to the gifts that were piled on his sofa.

He did as he was told without saying a word, picking it up and resting it on his lap. It felt like a photo frame. As he peeled back the wrapping paper he realised that’s exactly what it was. It was large with glossy pine edges to match the furniture in his apartment and filled with photos of him all from his life before the ice and his eyes grew large as he took in the faces that looked back up at him. There was a photo of him and Bucky as kids, another as teenagers, then one of them in the army- the one of them laughing that Katie had said she loved. His eyes began to mist over as he saw a few shots of his parents at their wedding in Ireland, on the steps of their tenement building at Brooklyn, one of him and his mom when he was a small boy, then he spotted one of him and Howard along with various shots of him with the Howling Commandos and finally one of him, Colonel Chester Phillips and Peggy. And at the bottom of the frame, on a silver plaque was engraved a quote from the Wizard of Oz- ”A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others.”

“I thought it was a shame to just keep them in a box.” Katie said gently as she sat next to him. “I wanted you to see them every day and remember you meant as much to them as they did or do to you.”

His fingers trailed over the various faces in the frame as the memories flooded his brain and he felt a lump in his throat at the wave of nostalgia crossing over him, and also at the utter thoughtfulness that had gone into her gift.

 “I picked what I thought were the nicest ones.” She continued and he was aware her tone was growing nervous. “But we can swap them if…”

“Katie,” his voice was croaky as he cut her off and looked up at her. He was right, she was biting her lip, worried that she had upset him but nothing could be further from the truth. He moved to take her face in his hands and he kissed her, hard. He pulled away and looked at her speaking with utter honesty and sincerity “This is amazing, Darlin’. Thank you so much.”

Letting out a sigh, Steve’s eyes dropped from the wall to a smaller frame on the sideboard, this one contained a photo of him and Katie a ‘selfie’ of the two of them at the Top of the Rock, taken when they had gone back to New York to visit Tony one weekend in October. He loved it, the pair of them grinning like idiots, Katie wearing a baby blue sparkly beany and matching scarf, her smile genuine and him looking like a loves-struck idiot, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he glanced at the camera. She had the same photo in her living room too.

No, he couldn’t go to bed without sorting this out. Abandoning his half-drunk bottle of Sam Adams, he shoved his shoes back on, grabbed his keys and headed out.

****

Katie didn’t even stay for debrief, more to piss Steve off than anything. It was petty, yes but she was absolutely raging at him. Their relationship had been the talk of the Triskelion for months, and for that reason, they had behaved nothing but professionally on missions, wanting to prove to not only everyone they worked with, but to themselves, that they could remain objective in their work and that them being together wouldn’t compromise the way they behaved in the field. 

And now he had fucked that.

She ignored his call which came just as she got home and throwing her phone onto the sofa she grabbed a glass of wine and ran herself a bath, turning her music up loud. She lay back under the bubbles, gently humming along to the music. Music was her thing to calm down to. She’d always played piano, right from the age of four when her mom had taught her, and she wasn’t bad at it either.

The mellow sounds of John Legend’s ‘Ordinary People’ faded into the opening notes of ‘Only One In Color’ by Trapt, and Katie paused, smiling. This song took her years back, to nights in London with colleagues in bars, and then a concert in Orlando in 2009…and Steve, it took her back to Steve and one rainy afternoon in August.

Katie shimmied around, folding laundry and dropping it into the basket as she sang, loudly. It had been ages since she’d done this, just danced around her apartment like an idiot. She turned round to grab the final load out of the machine and screamed as Steve was stood in the doorway, arms folded, leaning against the frame, that annoyingly cute smirk on his face.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“Jesus, how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough” He grinned, crossing the room and wrapping his arms around her. He nuzzled into her neck and the two of them stood there, still, listening to the song that was playing.

“What is it?” Steve asked, pressing a kiss to the spot just below her ear..

“It’s called Only One In Color, by a band called Trapt.” Katie replied, turning her head to look at him. “It kinda reminds me of you actually.”

Steve smiled as they listened for another second before he moved back, his hand taking hers as he raised it above their heads and spun her round, playfully as she laughed, before he pulled him to her.

“Dance with me.”

“What, here? In my apartment?”

“Our own private ballroom.”

“You’ve never danced before.” Katie looked up at him. “You told me.”

“I know, Peggy was right.” He took a deep breath and looked at her. “I was waiting for the right partner. So, what do you say? Teach me?”

“You know I don’t really know a lot of steps.” Katie felt a smile spread across her face as Steve placed his free hand on the curve of her waist and she began to lead them around on the spot, her right hand held in his left, her left curling up and over his right shoulder. She watched Steve, who was concentrating so hard that his brows pinched together slightly, a look that was incredibly endearing.

“Stop over thinking it.” She said gently, looking up at him. “Listen to the music and just let go.”

So he did. He let go, listening to the melody and the words, smiling a little as the lyrics hit home, really making him think about the woman in his arms. She had brought colour to his life, given him a reason to keep going in this world he had found so strange and, well, daunting. As he found his rhythm, he felt the smile pull even broader on his lips. He raised his head from where his eyes had been focussing on his feet and his girl beamed up at him, squeezing the hand that she held.

“See, it’s not that hard is it?” She giggled. Steve returned the grin and shook his head.

“Surprisingly not.” He admitted. They continued to revolve around the space in the doorway between her kitchen and laundry room and Katie lay her head on his chest, Steve’s face automatically turning down slightly so his cheek was resting against her hair. After a minute or so Katie felt him move and instinctively she looked up and could do nothing but smile as they stopped dancing and their mouths drifted closer together. Her hand slipped up, fingers stretching themselves into the short hair at the nape of his neck as his lips met hers, his hand creeping across her back, large palm pressed firmly against her spine. 

They never made it to the bedroom, they made it as far as the couch before they were both naked and going at it like a couple of horny fucking teenagers. And since then it had been ‘their’ song.

Katie sighed and drained her wine glass before she set about washing her hair and climbed out of the bath. She dressed in a pair of shorts and a hoodie before pulling her damp hair back into a French braid and had just settled on the sofa to watch TV when the buzzer to her apartment went. Picking up her phone to look at the security camera she took a deep breath and realised it was Steve.

“Sweetheart let me in. My key card is at home.”

She gave no response.

“I’m not going till you do, you know I could do this all day. Or all night.”

Still no response.

“I mean it’s a pretty interesting buzzer.”

With a groan, knowing full well the stubborn little shit in him would do just that, she pressed the button to let him in. Half a minute or so later the alert went again to signal he had requested access to her floor. Once more she tapped to accept and turned her attention back to the TV. She didn’t look up as the elevator door in the panel in her wall slid open, keeping her eyes focussed on the television as he strode into the room, heading straight for her once he’d hung his jacket up on the hooks to the right of the elevator.

“You were gonna watch this without me?” Hesaid gently, nodding to the episode of ‘Brooklyn Nine-Nine’ that was playing as he dropped down next to her.

“Yes.” She replied simply, her arms folded.

Steve fought the smile spreading across his face at her childishness. He knew if she was mad the worst thing he could do was laugh at her and make her think he wasn’t taking her seriously. So, he took a deep breath and turned so he was facing her on the couch, arm resting along the back.”

“I know you’re pissed at me.” He sighed. “But come on Doll, I hate fighting with you.”

“Then stop being a dick.” She snarked back. Steve took another deep breath and looked at her as she continued. “You know what it’s like at work, everyone has constantly analysed everything I do because, hello, Howard Stark’s daughter, and today…”

She trailed off and Steve looked down at his hands and shook his head. “I know. I didn’t mean to make it look like you couldn’t handle yourself.”

They fell into silence and Katie exhaled sharply, deciding to meet him half way. She knew he hadn’t meant to make her feel like he had but, there was also a part of her that had been scared. Not just for her and Evans, but seeing Steve rush in, headfirst with no regard for his own safety just to get to her had really frightened her. Despite his enhanced nature, he wasn’t invincible.

“You need to trust me when I’m out there.” She spoke, her voice was softe.

“I do trust you, you know that.” He looked at her. “But I’m not gonna apologize for looking out for you, Sweetheart. It’s my job. Both as your Captain and your man.”

“I get that, I do.” Katie sighed. “But you put yourself in danger today, running straight into the middle of a fire fight…can you imagine what I’d have done if you’d have been…”

She trailed off, swallowing and took a deep breath before she continued and her words hit Steve. He hadn’t considered she had felt as worried about him as he had her.  

“We have to remain objective, and if that means you can’t just abandon the team for me.”

“I know, you’re right, I’m sorry.” He said finally.

She looked at him and took a deep breath, the anger dissipating at his apology and moved to give him a hug, her arms round his shoulders as he wrapped his around her back and pulled her clumsily into his lap.

 “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did.” She sighed as she lay her head against his.

“Forgiven?” He asked and she looked down at him, he was giving her his puppy dog eyes. She rolled her own, she couldn’t stay mad at him, especially when there was a small part of her that couldn’t help but adore the fact he cared so deeply for her that he’d rush in, head first with no regard for anything else.

“Captain Dumbass.” She grumbled, before giving him a soft kiss.

“Guess so.” He chuckled. And when she didn’t protest he gently tapped her thigh, and knowing what he wanted she shifted off his lap so he could lay down flat on the sofa, allowing her to drape herself over him like  blanket, head on his chest as his arms wrapped around her back, legs tangling together as they settled in to watch their programme.

*****

Katie hadn’t been in the office for five minutes the next morning when she got a message to say Fury wanted to see her. In the years she had known the director, she still found it hard to get a read on him and this time was no exception. She stepped into his office and he nodded to her, and without a word got straight to business, leading her over to the screen on the wall by the sofas.

“I was wondering what you made of this.” He said nodding to the large screen on the wall. The photo displayed was of a tree trunk, cut in half and running down the middle was a long, tube like shape, with some markings on it. The photo zoomed in and Katie frowned.

“These look like the markings on Thor’s hammer.” She looked at the Director.

“Funny you should say that.” Fury nodded. “Because the Spectrographic signatures match the readings from Thor’s hammer too.”

“So whatever was in that tree was Asgardian?”

Fury nodded. “It looks that way, Nova, yes.”

“Where was it found?”

“That’s a trunk from a Norwegian spruce in Trillmarka National Park, Norway.”

“Figures.” Katie bit her lip.

“How do you mean?” Fury looked at her.

“The legends of Thor, they all have origins in Norway. When I asked him about it, Thor explained that Asgardians visited Earth thousands of years ago.” She explained. “They roamed Norway, mingling with the old Norse people, but back then, because humans couldn’t understand the concept of people from another planet, these, well, these aliens were revered as Gods.”

Fury gave a noise of understanding.  

“So who took it?” She asked. “Has Thor been back since the whole incident in Greenwich or…”

“I wish he had, then I wouldn’t really give a shit.” Fury sighed. “This thing has gone AWOL. According to my team on the ground, it was taken by a woman and a man, very much of Earth”

“Great.”  Katie rolled her eyes, before she continued, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Because every time something alien lands in human hands that ends well.”  

Fury gave a snort and pressed a button on a remote and she turned her attention to the TV on the wall of the office. It was screening a news broadcast, footage of a riot. The runner on the bottom of the screen identified the location as Oslo.

“The rioting has left twenty injured and three in a critical condition. Reports indicate that the group of about a dozen was led by this man and woman.”

A picture of the culprits filled the screen. The man was tall, dark haired, dark eyed and had a short beard. The woman, in contrast was slight, blonde and with icy blue eyes.

“And although their motive was unclear, the message was spelled out on the streets of Oslo, for all to see”

“It looks like the item has given them powers beyond those of normal humans.” Fury spoke as the newscast panned over to a fire on the street, this time an aerial view. The fire spelt out the words “We are Gods”.

“So what do you need me to do?” Katie asked, looking at him.

“I’m gonna need you to work with one of my field teams.” Fury continued, looking at her. “My best field team, actually. I want you to help them track these guys down. You have a decent knowledge on Asgardian and Mythological history and the team could do with someone with a little background on the subject.”

“Sir, if these people are as powerful as this report is saying, shouldn’t we consider at least trying to contact Thor, possibly the rest of the Avengers?” Katie looked at him.

 “No.” Fury’s response was instantaneous. “I don’t want the Avengers involving. It would attract too much attention.”

“With all due respect, they just set a street on fire. I dare say it’s already attracting a fair amount of attention so whats-“ She trailed off as Fury looked at her, an expression on his face that Katie knew extremely well having seen it several times before. The expression he wore when he was about to drop a bombshell. “Oh, what are you hiding Nick?” She frowned.

“I want you to understand that you’ve been kept in the dark about this so far for a reason. And I know you’re going to get emotional, but if you could refrain from throwing that coffee you’re holding, Nova, I’d appreciate it.”

“Dark about what?” She pressed, her tone irritated. She didn’t have time for this bullshit.

Agent Fury pressed a button on his phone on his desk. “Alright, you’re up.” And with that the TV snapped onto a different channel and she turned to see a familiar man sat in a chair on the screen.

Katie didn’t throw the coffee, instead it slipped from her hands as her mouth dropped open and the entire room swam in front of her eyes.

“Sorry, boss. The God rabbited” 

“Just stay awake. EYES ON ME!” 

“No. I’m clocked out here.” 

“Not an option!” 

The room came back into focus again and she looked from the screen to Fury, then back. “This…this is impossible.” She stammered.

“I’d have said the same thing myself not long ago.” Phil Coulson gave a shy little smile.

Katie found herself floundering for words before the anger at the lies and deceit bubbled up.

“No, you…you died! I was there, I saw it!”

“Excellent medics.” Fury concluded.

“They took you away, in a body bag!” Katie’s voice rose to a yell as she ran her hands over her face, unable to believe what she was seeing. She’d cried, mourned the loss of one of her friends, a man who had been her mentor. She looked at Coulson on the screen, and then away again, her eyes misting up slightly.

“No one knew I’d pulled through until after New York.“ Coulson spoke softly “I spent months recovering in Tahiti. It’s a magical place.”

“I want your word that you will not reveal Agent Coulson is alive to anyone.” Fury spoke and Katie turned to look at him, her face curling up in an angry sneer. “I debated long and hard about pulling you into this but we need you.”

Katie eyed the director, chin jutting upwards as she glared at him. “Don’t you ever get tired of the lies?”

“I have no option.” Fury’s face was stern. “I can’t risk the Avengers falling apart.”

“I’m not lying to them for you.” She shook her head “No way. A team is built on trust. Without that you have nohing.”

Fury looked at her for a moment, before he sighed. “That wasn’t a request, Agent Stark. If you tell anyone I’ll remove you from service.”

“So now you’re blackmailing me?”

“I’m merely pointing out your options.” Fury replied simply.

“You are unbelievable.” She shook her head. “Fuck you. Fuck this.”

She turned to walk out of the door before Coulson’s voice rang across the room.

“Katie, please. We wouldn’t be asking this of you if it wasn’t urgent, but we really do need your help

The use of her first name, not her code name, made Katie stop in her tracks. Taking a deep breath she spun back, fire in her eyes as she glared at Coulson’s image on the screen. “Why should I?”

“Because, ” Coulson continued, “you’re the only one I trust enough with this.”

Katie ran her hands over her face, torn between wanting to leave and her desire, sorry, duty to help. In the end her duty won out and she felt her shoulders slump as she looked back towards the two men, giving them both a curt nod.

“Fine, but that does not mean that I’m happy about this. Any of it.”

“You’ll rendezvous with the Bus in Oslow.” Fury instructed, ignoring her emotion completely. “There’s a Jet being prepped to take the new shift of mobile STRIKE team members out as we speak. You can go with them.”

“Whatever.” She shrugged. With a final roll of her eyes she made to leave the room before Fury called after her.

“Agent Stark.”

“What?” she demanded as she spun round, fixing her eyes on his.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, shaking his head. “But I had to do it.”

She swallowed, before she turned and left, not trusting herself to respond.  

*****

Steve was looking for Katie, he knew she’d been to see Fury and was eager to find out what it was about. After asking a few agents if they’d seen her he finally tracked her to one of the kitchens where she was sat, hugging a cup of coffee like her life depended on it, staring down at the table. He frowned, she looked absolutely beat.

“Sweetheart?” He asked tentatively as she looked up at him. His frown deepened when he saw her face. She looked distraught. “Honey, what is it?”

One look in his eyes and Katie knew she couldn’t lie to him, she didn’t want to lie to him. Fuck Fury, fuck all of this.

“Coulson…he…” She stammered, looking up at Steve, her eyes wet.

“What about him?” Steve frowned.

She took a deep breath, tears now rolling down her face. “He’s alive, Steve, he’s fucking alive.”

And then the dam broke and she began to sob. Steve instantly went into autopilot, pulling out a spare chair and moving it close to her so he could wrap his arms around her as she cried into his tevlar clad chest, his own mind whirling at the news.

Eventually she calmed down to tell him everything. And Steve listened, not saying a word, simply holding her hand, his thumb skating over her knuckles as she spoke. He did, however, make an angry noise that was half way between a snort and a growl when she told him Fury had threatened to sack her if she told anyone.

“I honestly thought I’d seen it all, that nothing life threw up would ever surprise me again.” She sighed looking at Steve as she finished explaining.

“Ten bucks says you’re wrong.” He smiled softly and she spluttered a watery laugh through her tears, remembering what she’d said to him the first time they had met. “There’s my girl.” Steve reached over to gently brush her cheek with his hand. “I like it better when you smile.”

“Sorry, but I’m so angry. Fury is lying, again! Has he learnt nothing from everything that’s happened over the past few years?”

Steve didn’t say anything, merely studied her face for a moment and then both of them turned their attention to the door when one of the Junior Agents appeared.

“Agent Stark, Director Fury asked me to tell you we’re wheels up in an hour.”

“Thanks.” She nodded, sniffing before she looked at Steve. “I don’t even have time to pack.”

“You got some stuff in your locker, right?”

She nodded. She always had a few days’ worth of clothes in her locker and toiletries to hand, just in case. She ran her hands over her face and stood up. “You know, I don’t even know who I’m meeting!” She shook her head. “Other than Fitz and Simmons, I’ve no idea who Coulson has on The Bus.”

“Whoever it is I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Steve assured her. “And I know it’s shitty but they asked for you for a reason.”

“Suppose I best make the most of it, seeing as it will be my last mission, you know, on account of me telling you.”

“It won’t come to that.” Steve shook his head “I’m not gonna tell anyone I know.”

“Fury always finds out.” Katie sighed. “Tony is right about him. His spies have spies.”

Thirty minutes later she was walking to the hangar, suited in her SHIELD cat suit, Steve carrying her holdall for her as they walked. The Captain didn’t like this, he hated that she was effectively being manipulated and he would have loved nothing more than to give Fury a piece of his mind but he couldn’t, because he wasn’t supposed to know. They reached the bottom of the jet and Katie turned to him as he handed her bag to one of the agents who nodded to them both.

“I’ll call you as soon as I can.” She promised as Steve looked down at her and nodded

“Make sure you do.” He raised an eyebrow. “Not sure how I’m gonna cope without my best girl.”

“Your best girl?” She teased. “How many others do you have?”

“One or two.” He shrugged. “But they’re in different states, so, they don’t count, right?”

She gave a laugh as she shook her head. “Jerk.”

Steve chuckled and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “You know you’re the only one for me, Doll.” He dropped a soft kiss to her lips. “Just go do what you gotta do. I’ll be here when you get back.”

He kissed her again, this time a little longer, although both still well aware that they were in the middle of a very busy hangar, surrounded by a lot of people. Sighing, Katie pulled back and allowed herself to melt into his arms for a quick hug before she stepped back.

“I love you.” She said gently.

“You too. Be careful.” He looked at her, his features verging on stern with his warning.

“I’m always careful.” She grinned, walking backwards up the ramp, wanting to look at him for as long as possible.

“Well that’s just an out and out lie.” He raised an eyebrow, hands dropping to the buckle of his belt.

She grinned, blew him a kiss and then disappeared into the main part of the jet. Steve watched for a second as the ramp shut before he turned and left the hangar.

*****

The flight over to Oslow wasn’t too long. Katie used the time to do as much reading up on the item they were tracking as possible, going through all the files that Coulson had sent her. Eventually they docked with The Bus and her and the other agents made their way to the Air Lock. The doors shut and the capsule took them down a level before the frosted glass doors opened and there, stood in front of her, was Phil Coulson. The other agents pushed past, clearly fine at the sight of a dead-not-dead man in front of them.

There was a moment’s hesitation, where Coulson and Katie simply looked at each other, and then Katie’s anger boiled over and she stepped forwards, slapping him, hard across the face. The agents who were milling around all paused as Coulson’s head snapped to the side.

“Guess I deserved that…” He said, turning his head back to look at her as everyone hastily carried on with their jobs.

As Katie stared at her old mentor, her anger melted away and with a little sigh she threw her arms around him.  Coulson squeezed her back, before Katie moved a little to look at him, before she spoke for the first time.

“Good to see you again. Not dead, I mean.”

Phil gave a chuckle. “You too Nova. Come on, the rest of the team are waiting in the lab.”

He led her down the hall, Katie following, her eyes taking in her surroundings before Coulson stopped at the end of a corridor, near a door to a room that she could see had a glass wall.

“Now, before you go in, there’s something else you should know.” Coulson turned to face her and she looked at him, letting out an angry groan.

“What now?”

“I want you to know, Fury didn’t want me to tell you as he didn’t think you would come, it wasn’t my decision to keep it from you.”

“Keep what from me?” Her temper was flaring again. “I swear to God AC I am this close…”she held her fingers an inch apart, “to losing my shit!”

Coulson hesitated for a moment and then opened the door to the lab. As they walked in six people all looked up from what they’d been watching and turned to face them. One of them was a dark haired girl she didn’t know and next to her were Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz who Katie knew from the labs when they had worked with Lawson. Then she spotted Melinda May, an agent only rivalled in fighting skills by Natasha.

And then a pair of familiar dark eyes met hers as another familiar face looked up from a tablet.

“Oh for fucks sake!” Katie muttered and she turned to Coulson who shrugged apologetically.

“Good to see you too.” Ward grinned as Katie folded her arms and glared at him.

There was a moment’s pause as the two simply stared at one another, Katie’s teeth grinding together in irritation, before the girl with the dark hair spoke. “Okay, so this is awkward…”

“And this is Skye.” Coulson spoke, breaking up the tension. “She’s a…”

“Hacker.” May supplied, at the same time Skye replied, “consultant”

Katie was really struggling to keep her temper under control now, so missed the irritated glare Skye shot at May. First Coulson, now this. Fury was going to absolutely get the full Stark-slash-Supernova explosion when she got back.

“So, shall we get down to business?” Coulson asked, spotting the look on Katie’s face, realising she needed to focus on something else. “What have you got?”

“We’ve managed to identify our thieves.” May spoke as Sky pressed something on the tablet she was holding. A close up of the woman’s face appeared on the holo-projector in the middle of the room.  “Her name is Petra Larson”

“And this is Jakob Nystrom, her boyfriend. Both thirty.  Leaders of a Norse Paganist hate group”

 “And their numbers are growing thanks to what happened in London and the internet” Sky scoffed. “Yay internet,”

“Norse Paganist?” Simmons questioned

“Obsessed with anything derived from Norse mythology, stories of Asgard, yada yada.” Skye explained. 

“And now a weapon.” Ward gestured to a long object on the table which Katie hadn’t noticed until that point.

“Is that a 3-d print?” She asked, instantly captivated by the item, looking at Fitz who nodded. “May I?”

“Of course…” He said. Katie picked it up and turned it over in her hands, testing the weight as she scanned it up and down. The detailing was exquisite.

“The scan accounted for only one side.” Fitz explained. “There was too much damage to the tree for a complete reproduction”.

“But, see here, it’s clearly broken on both ends.” Katie held it up. “So there are more pieces.”

“Yeah, two at least” Fitz responded, nodding.

“Which means Sid and Nancy may be looking for a complete set.” Ward spoke as Coulson turned to Katie.

“The markings. Just as you said on the call they’re Asgardian symbolism.”

She looked at the item in her hand and nodded. “Similar to Thor’s hammer.”

“Yeah, hard to translate with our limited knowledge.” Couslon shrugged.

“You should give your buddy the God of Thunder a shout.” Sky spoke “He gets his powers from his hammer, right? What if this is his nail to the hammer?”

“He’s off grid.” Coulson looked at her. “And if he has a cell-phone, we don’t have the number.

“I told to get him a pager.” Katie muttered as she peered at the rod and then something stirred in her mind, and she began racking her brains. There was something similar about this, something that she’d seen or read before, if she could only remember what.

“So,” May looked at Katie, “SHIELD’s investigations are on the trail of Nystrom and his followers.”

“We’re charged with identifying the object and finding any other pieces before they do.” Coulson finished.

Katie nodded, still thinking. “If this acts in the same way as Thor’s hammer then that’s a sensible task.”

And then she trailed off as it suddenly hit her exactly what it was she’d been trying to remember.

“No, it can’t be.” She muttered as Coulson looked at her questioningly. She nodded to the item in her hand and then looked back at him. “I could be wrong but this…this could be a piece of the Beserker Staff.”

“The what?”  Ward frowned.

“It’s from an old legend that a great warrior, from another world came to Earth” Katie spoke, recalling the research she’d done once upon a time. “He had in his possession a magical staff but he loved Earth so much he never left, and he broke the staff into pieces and hid them.”

“Any idea on where?” Coulson asked.  Katie shook her head.

 “Well our Pagan friends certainly seem to have some advantage on that front.” Ward sighed. “They found this thing in a hundred and fifty square kilometres of Norwegian forest.”

“Guys, what if it called to them with magic?” Sky asked, her eyes going large and excited.

“Called to them?” May shot her a ‘be real’ look in response.

“We know it’s Asgardian, so the rules are a little bendy here.” Skye pressed.

“Just because we don’t understand something yet doesn’t mean we should regress back to the dark ages, talking of magic and fairy tales” Simmons shook her head and Fitz scoffed his agreement.

“Actually, that’s exactly what we need to do.” Katie looked around as the idea came to her.

“Excuse me?” Simmons asked.

Ignoring him, Katie turned to Agent Coulson. “Remember when we first found the hammer in New Mexico, and I told Fury to consult with an expert on Norse Mythology to fill the gaps.”

“Elliot Randolph,” Phil nodded.

“We should speak to him, he’ll know more about it than me.”

“Alright.” Coulson nodded, looking at May. “He’s a professor at the University of Seville. Set the course, let’s pay him a visit.”

“Shouldn’t take us too long.” May shrugged “But it is getting kinda late. By the time we get there it will be past eight in the evening local time. Can I suggest we head out first thing tomorrow morning?”

Coulson nodded. “Alright. Sounds like a plan. Okay team, lets wrap it up here and get something to eat. Think we’ve earned it.” He then turned to Katie, gesturing with his head for her to follow him out of the room.

He led her down a few more corridors and to a flight of steps which led up to the upper deck of the large airship.

“The Accommodation is probably a bit smaller than you’re used to, but…”

 “If it’s that bad imma find a hotel.” She shrugged as she followed Coulson down the corridor.

“What and miss all the fun?” Phil looked over his shoulder. “I’ve had the gin bar stocked specially.”

“Yeah, for the record that isn’t going to take away from the fact that I’m utterly pissed at you and Fury”

“I know you well enough Nova to not even hope that would be the case” Coulson snorted as they turned right. Eventually they reached the living area and Coulson led her to one of the spare rooms.

It wasn’t as bad as Coulson made it out to be, a bed that was slightly bigger than a single but not a full double, with a small wardrobe and a small basin to the side.

“This isn’t so bad.” She turned to Phil who was watching her a little cautiously.

“Glad it meets your approval.” He nodded, leaning in the door way before he took a deep breath. “Look, I really am sorry about all of this. I wouldn’t have-“

“Let’s just find that thing and then I can go home.” Katie cut him off, not in the mood for anymore apologies or explanations. She had a job to do, and the sooner she did it, the sooner she could get back.

“That’s the plan.” Coulson nodded. “I’ll be in the bar in an hour or so, got a few things to sort out before but, well, it would be nice if we could catch up.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Katie replied. There was a pause before Coulson gave her another curt nod.

“I’ll leave you to it.”

With that he turned and left and Katie’s eyes fixed on the now empty doorway. With a purposeful stride, she moved forward and pressed her palm to the pad at the side, the door sliding shut with a slight click.

Katie turned around, looking at her bag which had been placed at the foot of her bed and with a loud, angry groan of frustration she flopped backwards onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

***** Chapter 9

**Original Posting**

[middleearthpixie]

After the Fire ~ Chapter Twenty-Five

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a grievously wounded Thorin is brought back to the kingdom of Erebor, which is still mostly in ruins. Although he’s survived the wounds he received at the end of Azog’s blade, his recovery is far from complete. Grief, regret, anger, all are making his journey that much more difficult and the physical recovery isn’t quite the most difficult challenge he faces.

Jasna Stoneham is no stranger to loss, as she is a survivor of Smaug’s wrath upon Esgaroth. When she is asked to help the dwarves healers of Erebor, her instinct is to say no, but she needs the job, and so agrees to it. However, no one told her that of all the patients, she would be responsible for the king himself, Thorin Oakenshield. 

Unfortunately, the road to recovery isn’t necessary a smooth one, but if there’s one thing Thorin will learn, it’s that Jasna is just as stubborn as he is and for every step back he takes, she is there to push him three steps forward. And Jasna will soon find out that there is a gentle, softer side to the dwarf king, one that very few people have ever seen and one he fights to keep hidden from her as well. But like his recovery, that is also easier said than done. 

Thorin finally gets up the nerve to pay a call on Jasna…

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Jasna Stoneham

Characters: Jasna, Thorin, Arabella Stoneham

Warnings: Oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex 

Rating: M

Word Count: 4,399

Khuzdul Translation:

Abnâmul - beautiful

Mesmel - jewel of all jewels

Amrâlimê - my love

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If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

Rain pattered against the windowpanes and Jasna turned up the wick on the lamp to give herself a little more light by which to study. Her last exam had been horrendous, and Mr. Templeton had told her in no uncertain terms she had one chance to bring her marks up, or else he’d find someone else to train. She tried not to panic as she stared down at her notes, but she couldn't make herself concentrate. Sh’d read a sentence, and promptly forget it. Wonderful.

The soft knock at the door surprised her, made her jump, but then she laughed at her own foolishness. Mama probably didn't take her keys, as she knew Jasna would be home. She just didn't know Jasna would lock the door since she was in her room studying.

“I’m coming, Mama,” she called, padding across the sitting room to the door. She flipped the lock and turned the handle and as she opened the door, her, “How bad is it out?” died on her lips when she found herself looking up at the very last person she ever expected to see.

Rainwater beaded along Thorin’s nose, his beard, rolled off his cloak, and his voice was low and deep as he murmured, “It’s raining like mad, but otherwise not bad a’tall.”

“Thorin,” her heart sped up to slam against her ribs with enough force to send black dots dancing before her eyes, “what do you want?”

“To talk to you, Jasna. That’s all. And then, if you want to toss me out on my arse, be my guest.” He gestured toward the sitting room. “May I?”

“No.” She shut the door in his face. 

“Jasna,” he called through the door, “I know you’re angry with me, and you have every right to be so, but please, just listen to me.”

“Oh, that’s quite b-b-big of you, Thorin. Wh-wh-why should I? Give me one g-g-g-good reason why I should.” She leaned against the door, as if that would prevent him from forcing his way in if he so desired. Still, she leaned back against it just the same and crossed her arms. 

“I have none,” he said after a brief silence, “aside from I have been kicking myself for how I let you leave.”

“Let me leave? You had n-n-n-no say in whether or not I left, you pompous ass!”

More silence. 

Then, a soft sigh and he said, “You’re right. I am. And it would serve me right if you didn't open this door, but I do hope you will.”

“What do you w-w-w-want from m-m-m-me now? Haven’t you d-done enough as it is?”

“Jasna, I know I fouled everything up between us. I was a coward and weak and you would be well within your rights to wish to never see me again.

“But, know this, I’ve regretted nothing as much I regret misleading you, as much as I regret hurting you. Please, let me in, mesmel, and let me try to make it up to you.”

Her eyes closed at the soft pain in his voice. Was she being a fool to consider hearing him out? Was she only setting herself up for more heartbreak when he explained to her how he’d marry the dwarrowdam who was so perfectly suited for him? Who was so perfectly acceptable as far as Ereborians were concerned?

Probably. 

Would she open the door and let him in to try to make it up to her?

Probably. 

A heavy sigh worked its way up from the soles of her feet as she slowly turned back to grip the door handle. It grated softly and the door opened with a hint of a squeak as she nodded as she stepped back. “Come in. You’ve five m-m-minutes.”

“Thank you.” He swept into the flat, reaching for the frogs at his throat to unhook the cloak, and carefully whisked it from his shoulders, wincing as it dripped on the floor. “Where is there a mop? I’ll clean that up.”

“What are you doing here?” 

He hung the cloak on the rack just behind the door. “I am a fool, Jasna. A fool and a jackanapes, and as mule and I… I owe you an apology at the very least.”

“I am listening.”

He turned back to her and she tried not to notice how his very presence seemed to fill the room. Water still dripped from his beard, and he swiped at it with his sleeve. “I should have told you about Shael, I should have been honest about her from the beginning.”

A shiver traced down along Jasna’s spine even as she folded her arms and stared at him. “Yes, you should have. If nothing else, you should have before you and I were together.”

A hint of color swept along his cheekbones, disappearing into both his hair and his beard. Still, to her surprise, he nodded. “You’re right. I should have. But, I wasn’t lying when I said I was selfish. I was. I didn't want you to turn me away and I was afraid you would. And in all honesty, I wasn't certain she was even coming to Erebor.”

It was all she could do to not roll her eyes. “Thorin—”

He held up both hands. “I know, it sounds weak, but I didn’t. She and I were never an actual couple. She is Dís’ closest friend and it just became a given that I would ask her to marry me. But then, I got word about my father and I happened to meet up with Gandalf and that led to the Shire, and to Ravenhill and to you.” He hesitated, then closed the gap between them, catching her face in his hands and her heart threatened to burst clear from her chest as he whispered, “And I am ever so thankful it led me to you, Jasna. And I didn't lie when I said I wanted to see where we led to, I do want to see it. And not just to my bed, but beyond that. Well beyond it.”

As he spoke, his thumbs moved lightly along her cheeks, his blue eyes as soft as his touch and she pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling, squeezed her eyes shut to keep them from overflowing, and when his lips brushed her forehead, she felt her insides melt. 

“Thorin, if you are t-telling me what you think I w-w-wish to hear and not what you truly m-mean—”

“I’m not. I promise you, I’m not,” he whispered back, brushing another kiss against her forehead. “Open your eyes and look at me, amrâlimê.”

She did just that, her belly alive with butterflies wildly beating their wings to leave her lightheaded and breathless. His eyes were soft and her toes curled against the floorboards as he whispered, “I love you, Jasna. And I am so very sorry I hurt you. I will never hurt you again.”

His words were like a caress against her, bringing tears to her eyes and tightening her throat as she whispered, “Thorin…”

“Let me make it up to you, amrâlimê. Let me make it all up to you.”

“You sent me sapphire earrings.”

“A bargain is a bargain. And I hadn’t forgotten. It really did take me that long to find the perfect sapphire for you.” He lowered his hands to ease his arms about her waist and lifted her effortlessly, groaning softly as her legs curved about his hips. “Oh, love…”

She caught his face in her hands, and when he looked up at her, she leaned down and caught his lips in a tender kiss that had him tightening his hold on her as he moved forward. She knew without his saying, where he headed, and so whispered, “To your left, dwarf.”

“You know me well, Jasna.”

Her bedroom door bumped open and he shifted to boot it shut once they were completely in her room, and with little effort, he bent and pressed her down into the narrow bed. He came flush against her, settling easily between her thighs, and when his lips met hers, she wound her arms about his neck. 

His lips moved softly against hers, parting, his tongue gliding along hers. Heat filled his kiss, desire fired hers. She tightened her arms about him, almost afraid that if she didn't hold tightly, he’d vanish on her.

His hips slowly, steadily, arched to meet hers, and she shivered at the contact, her fingers twisting into his hair. He shifted just so, slipping a hand beneath the hem of her tunic to let it skim along her waist. Up over her ribs. 

She shivered at the gentle sweep of his fingers along the outer curve of her breast, her breath hitching at the sudden spark shooting through her. His hand curved about that breast, cupped it gently, his thumb sliding lightly about her nipple, which tightened into an all-too-sensitive bead at that first pass. 

His kiss deepened, his tongue tangling with hers to draw it back into his own mouth and her back bowed as he teasingly rolled her nipple between his thick thumb and forefinger, then released it to slip his hand back down to the hem of her shirt. The cotton swept lightly along her skin, a caress in itself as he shoved her tunic up, baring her stomach. Then her breasts. He paused, whispering, “No corset?”

“I’m home alone. Why would I bother?”

He lifted his head to wink at her. “I don’t think you should ever bother with one again.” 

That wink twisted her insides into delicious knots. “Is that so?”

“It most definitely is.” He rocked back, then drew her up to whisk the tunic over her head. The cool air leaking about the loose windowpanes skittered across her bare skin, but she only barely felt it. The heat in his suddenly deep sapphire eyes displaced any chill.

“Do you know what abnâmul means?”

A hint of shyness swirled though her as she nodded. “It means beautiful, doesn’t it?”

He nodded. “And you are, you know.”

“Th-thank you.”

“Am I making you nervous, amrâlimê,” he murmured with a hint of a mischievous grin. “Uncomfortable, perhaps?”

“No.” She shook her head as she met his gaze. “Well, p-perhaps a little. Nervous, I mean. Not uncomfortable.”

He smiled then, and without hesitation, swept his henley over his head and let it fall to the floor. “Perhaps not so much now?”

Her cheeks grew warm at the sight of him. He was utterly magnificent and she wished there was a word on par with beautiful to describe him, for not even beautiful was an apt enough description. 

Without thinking, she reached out to trace along the thick and not-so-thick lines inked into his shoulder, then moved inward, along his chest. His breath hitched softly as her fingers swept along his warm skin, through that dark hair curling away from it, and when she brushed his nipple, he sucked in a sharp breath. She looked up to see his eyes closed, his expression soft. She slid her fingertip about the perimeter of that nipple, smiling as it beaded just as her own had when he touched it. 

She leaned in then, to flick the tip of her tongue over it. He stiffened against her, a low moan wafting to his lips as he slid one hand into her hair, twisting into it as he murmured, “Jasna…”

Lifting her head, she gazed up at him. “What?”

A seductive smile played at his lips. “Do that again.”

“This?”

She leaned back to him, tracing the tip of her tongue about his nipple. The fingers in her hair tightened further, his voice smoking about the edges as he nodded and breathed, “Oh, yes…”

Emboldened by his reaction, she teased him mercilessly, gently urging him onto his back as she did. He obliged, stretching out alongside her, his fingers warm as they tightened on her waist when she came up over him.

“What are you doing?” His voice was husky and low, and when she looked up, his eyes were heavy-lidded and a smoky blue.

“Shhh…” She dipped to sweep her lips along the front of his neck, where his beard began as little more than scruff. He swallowed hard, his pulse beating rapid-fire beneath her lips as she kissed around toward the slope of his shoulder. With just the tip of her tongue, she traced up toward his ear, catching the lobe gently, being careful not to dislodge the heavy-looking, ornate silver ear cuff he wore.

She moved back down, around to the hollow at his throat. Down over his chest. She traced the individual tooth marks scarring his chest, swirled her tongue about his left nipple once more, smiling as his fingers tightened on her. 

The dark hair spread wide across his belly tickled her nose, but she tried to ignore it as she kissed along his solid flesh to the waistband of his trousers. Her insides fluttered madly at the sight of him tenting those trousers already and as she unfastened his heavy-looking gold belt and reached for the buttons to feed through their loops, his fingers came up to slip through her hair. 

A hint of shyness swirled though her as she managed to make her fingers obey and part his trousers. Heat wafted from his skin. His breath hitched once more as she traced along the paler skin beneath that waistband. 

Just below his navel, that dark hair narrowed into a trail that disappeared into his trousers and she took a deep breath, shifting to straddle his thick thighs to part the heavy fabric.

His eyes glittered in the glow of the lamp on her bedside table and she managed to hold his gaze even as he lifted his hips just enough to allow her to tug his trousers, his small clothes from them. Her mouth went dry at the sight of her dwarf in all his glory. And glorious was the perfect word to describe him. 

Curiosity seized her and she reached down to ever-so-carefully trace along the underside of him, smiling as he sucked in a hard breath. His eyes closed as she repeated the motion, as she moved from hesitant strokes to teasing caresses, emboldened by his low, sighed, “Oh, amrâlimê…”

His body fascinated her to no end, as no medical text in all of Middle Earth could even come close to describing just how perfect this one dwarf man was to her. He smiled as she slowly explored him, opening his eyes as she bent over him and pressed the softest kiss she could manage along his length.

“You don’t have to do this,” he whispered, tucking a curl behind her ear. “I don’t mind.”

“Nor do I. Mind d-d-doing it, that is.” She smiled. “But would you think me t-t-t-terribly b-b-b-”

“Brave? Absolutely. It’s a monster, you know.”

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “No, I mean, it is of course, but that’s n-n-n-not what I was going to say. Would you think me br-br-brazen to do this?”

He tucked a hand up behind his head. “Yes, and I would welcome that brazenness.”

She traced her forefinger along him again, smiling at his sharp inhale. That part of him was sleek and hot and softer than any other skin on his body, and with each stroke, she grew bolder. “You w-w-would?”

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

She drew in a deep breath and bent over to let her lips close about him. The fingers in her hair tightened at once, his gasp echoed about the room, and as she teased him, a low moan rent the air, his hips arcing to meet her. She moved slowly, using his reactions as her guide. His fingers twisted hard in her hair, her name rose to his lips in a husky moan.

She moved faster, let her tongue swirl about him and stroke along him. He tensed beneath her, growling, “Jasna…”

But then he pulled free of her with a gritted, “Wait…”

“Did I d-d-d-do something wr-wrong?”

“Oh, no, amrâlimê, not at all.” Now it was his turn to urge her onto her back. “But I don’t wish this to be over just yet. And it will be if you keep doing that, mesmel.”

She smiled as he dipped to capture her lips with his, and slid a hand down into the shadows between her legs. His fingers delved into her heat, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he whispered, “You’re so very wet already, mesmel,” and stroked her ever so gently. 

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” he slid a finger inside her to set a spark to the kindling of her need for him, gave a gentle thrust, and added, “and I don’t like missing you.”

“Me, neither.” Pleasure swirled through her, hot and sweet, and a moment later, he eased his finger free, guided himself to her, gave a gentle push, and filled her with a slow thrust.

That was it. That was all it took. Jasna wrapped around Thorin as he began thrusting hard and fast, crushing her to him as he surged deep. The iron bedstead banged the wall in a steady rhythm as his control fled and he brought her to the very edge of sensual madness. She throbbed around him, clung to him, her knees pressed hard to his sides, her hips rocking to give him the greatest depths she could manage. 

He drove them both to the edge and in a blinding flash that his name bubbling to her lips, he shoved them both over. The knots burst, white-hot bliss flooding her body as he moaned low in his throat, tensed against her, and they came together in a fiery flash of need and desire.

He shuddered against her, arching hard once, twice, and the third time, he went rigid against her, then sank against her with a breathless, almost plaintive, “Jasna…”

Peace reigned as his head came to rest against her breast. Pleasure hummed through her still, softer now as she wrapped her arms about him and cradled him against her. Her fingers moved lightly over his hair as she whispered, “Are you all right?”

He trembled in her arms even as he nodded and whispered, “I am fine, mesmel.”

She let her eyes close as he swept a gentle kiss along the inner curve of her left breast. They lay in comfortable silence, their bodies still joined, and she was certain she felt his heart beating against hers, soft and steady. 

The rain let up and the late afternoon sun broke through the dreary gray and Jasna pressed a kiss into the top of Thorin’s head. “My mother will return soon, Thorin.”

He lifted his head, his eyes sleepy and soft. “Will she insist I marry you?”

“She will probably geld you otherwise.” She tucked a long silver-streaked black curl behind his right ear. “Although, I could h-h-hide you under the bed and sneak you out after she goes to sleep.”

“I’d rather not hide. Nor do I wish to sneak about. I want the world to know of you. Of us.”

Her spirits rose, her heart lighter than it had been since that terrible day at Erebor, when she first learned of Shael Whitbow’s existence. “Are you certain?”

“I am positive, yes.” He eased off her, stretching out alongside her and propped his head on his fist. “If you will have me, that is.”

She smiled. “I should, by all rights, be furious with you, you know.”

“I know. And I agree. But,” he reached out to trace his forefinger along her cheek, “I will spend the rest of my days making it up to you, if you will allow me to.”

“I have no choice, dwarf,” she told him. “I love you.”

He smiled. “Then, I have something to ask you.”

Her heart sped up, her mouth dry as her blood roared through her temples. “Y-y-y-you do?”

“I do, yes,” he nodded, carefully climbing over her to rise from the bed. She fought back the urge to sigh at the sight of him striding over to where his trousers lay in a heap only feet from the bed. 

She just watched as he crouched to fumble about with those trousers, and then he stood a moment later and came back over to the bed, sinking onto the edge of it. “Do you remember when you asked me about my braids?”

“I do, yes.” Her heart sped up as he held out his hand and opened it. In his palm sat a small silver rune with a green stone set into it. She looked up, unable to get her voice above a whisper as she said, “Thorin?”

“Do you remember what I told you?”

“You said they were sometimes a sign of c-c-courtship. But yours we-we-weren’t.”

“I confess, I am unfamiliar with the courtship rituals of Men, but for my people, braiding something into one’s hair signifies the seriousness of the relationship and it means that the bearer is spoken for. I thought an emerald would be perfect for you, mesmel, for it is almost the same beautiful shade of green as your eyes.”

Her breath hitched, her eyes stinging as she gazed down at the stone in his hand. She pressed her lips together as he went on, “And I do hope you will accept this as a promise of marriage because I would be greatly honored if you were to say you’d marry me, Jasna.”

“Thorin?”

“What?”

“Are you certain?”

“Mesmel, I’ve had plenty of time to ponder this and yes, I am certain. I love you. I want you. So, will you accept this and let me braid it into your hair so the world knows you are spoken for?”

Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes. Still, she nodded and whispered, “Of course I will.”

He smiled and as he reached to separate a length of her hair, his hands trembled. “I’m a bit nervous, Jasna. I’ve never done this before.”

“I seem to be the first for you in many ways, don’t I?”

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“It’s not at all.” 

She sat still as he braided the rune into her hair, and when he finished, he secured it with the thin strip of leather he’d brought and said, “And now you are mine, mesmel.”

“Oh, no,” she said in mock horror, “not th-that.”

He smiled as he rose and bent to kiss her lightly. But as he made to press her back into the bed, the sound of a key rattling in a lock made her shove him back. “Mama’s home! Thorin, you need to p-p-p-put on your t-t-trousers now!”

They dove for their clothes and Jasna was just smoothing her tunic into place when Mama rapped on the door and opened it, saying, “Jasna? Is everything all right, I—”

Her gaze fell on Thorin, then on Jasna’s very rumpled bed, and her eyes narrowed. “Jasna, what goes on here?”

Heat swept through her, but she forced herself to smile as she said, “Mama, this is Th-Th-Thorin Durin. Thorin, my m-m-m-mother, Arabella Stoneham.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Stoneham,” Thorin said with a smile. 

“The King Under the Mountain,” Arabella said, her voice flat, her expression neutral. “Why are you in my daughter’s bedroom?”

“Mama, it’s all right,” Jasna replied, slipping her hand into his and clasping it with her other hand. 

Mama’s gaze lowered, then flicked back up to meet Jasna’s. “How is it all right? He is not your husband.”

“He will be,” Thorin broke in softly, his fingers tightening about Jasna’s, “if you will give me permission to marry your daughter.”

Her eyes narrowed, her expression no friendlier. “Jasna, is he the man you’ve been onion-eyed over these past weeks?”

“Mama—”

“Is he?” Mama’s violet eyes slid to Thorin. “Are you the man who has made my daughter moon about as if she’d lost a limb?”

Jasna bit down on her bottom lip, her heart hammering her ribs in apprehension of how Thorin would react to the accusations leveled at him. She glanced up at him to see his jaw set, his eyes cool.

But then, he sighed softly. “I am, Mrs. Stoneham. I made a terrible mistake where Miss Stoneham is concerned.”

“And yet, you are here. In her bedroom. With her.”

Thorin’s fingers tightened about Jasna’s. “I love your daughter It’s that simple.”

“Jasna,” Mama turned her stern glare to her, “will you have him?”

Jasna smiled, and nodded. “I will. I love him back, Mama.”

Mama bobbed her head slightly, but her expression didn't change. “Do you trust him? Do you trust him to not hurt you again? Will you be happy with him?”

“I do, yes. And yes, Mama. I will be very happy with him.”

Mama sighed. “Very well… I suppose it would be cruel of me to withhold my blessing on your union.” Her eyes narrowed as she glared at Thorin once more. “Although I know what you and my daughter were doing, so don’t think you’ve got one over on me.”

“Mama!” Jasna felt her face go hot. “Please!”

“I was young once, you know.” Mama sighed softly and then smiled. “And I remember how it felt to fall in love and of course I will give my blessing. But, tell me, Your Majesty, how will your people react to the news that their queen will be of Man?”

“I’m not entirely certain,” he said slowly. “But, I know they think the world of Jasna.”

As he said this, he turned to smile down at her and without thinking, she hugged his arm to her chest. Although it was wonderful to know the dwarves of Erebor thought so highly of her, all that mattered was Thorin loved her. 

Everything else was just details.

[imnotwolverine]

The Accidental Family - Chapter 1

Henry Cavill x OFC multi-chapter

Chap 1 - Coming Home | Chap 2 >

Disclaimer: Fluff, some strong language 

Word count: 2.364

Author’s note: Are you ready for some confused Henry-fluff, my baby sweets? I really could use something to focus on now we’re in full lockdown during the Christmas days *ugly cries* -- So, dear fellow quarantine babies: I hope you’ll enjoy the story! 

Also, special thanks to my babe @darkbooksarwin​ for helping out with giving shape to this story and pointing me at some of the technicalities of brain injury and memory loss. ❤️

(Link to my Masterlist)

--

Say. What would you do if you’d one day wake up without a single memory of the last five years? Would you be like super soldier Hardcore Henry, defeating an army of bad guys? Would you return to the world in white robes, to help Hobbits on their journey to destroy one evil piece of jewellery? Or, would you perhaps be bed-ridden while you’re forced to watch yet another re-run of the Price Is Right on one far too small hospital tv? 

Well, for Henry it was unfortunately the latter. 

And where he had been ever enthusiastic to get back to work and pick up his life, the doctors thought otherwise, their voices all agreeing on one thing; he had to “take it easy”. 

Take it easy? Take it easy?! He had just skipped five years of his life! Let’s be real now! One cannot “take it easy”, when one moment you’re the main character of one of Netflix’s hit series, working 14 hour workdays, only to find yourself bedridden the next. Didn’t they need him? Didn’t they need Superman? Geralt? ..Him?

It felt a bit like he had been the first Doctor to step into the Tardis. Confused, but sharp of mind. Or, perhaps the Gandalf comparison was better; he had fought the Balrog of Khazad-dûm - or in his case some ghost riding idiot on the M5 on his motorcycle, only to return to the world as a different person..in a different time, the past five years a bit of white noise in the back of his brain.  

The one clear differentiation between him and Gandalf’s return being, that Henry had not lost “the One Ring”, but gained one, his left ring finger now sporting a pretty golden band that matched the one on the restless hands of the woman driving him home right this moment.

Returning his attention to her, he watched her, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel as her stormy blue eyes zipped over the chaotic traffic of the London city streets, her teeth biting in focus on her lower lip.  

She was his wife, apparently - a thought that both amused and frightened him. How in the hacking hell could he not remember having a wife?

Henry had always been good with people. Remembering faces, names, little details. But with her? His wife? He couldn’t even remember where or how they'd met. Matter of fact: he couldn’t remember any woman with this kind of sweet, heart shaped face, her eyes the shade of midnight blue and her hair so golden it might have been woven by Rumplestiltskin herself.

This whole thing was rather absurd.

Had someone told him he would one day wake up in a hospital bed sporting grey streaks in his hair and a scar the size of a small coin on his skull, the memories of his past 5 years erased, he’d have laughed hard. 

But, hello there new Henry, here you are.

Scratching at the edges of the itchy scar, Henry leaned into his arm, his aquamarine gaze quietly studying the blond woman.

*scratch scratch*

‘He-hey, don’t touch that.’ The blondine admonished, blindly swatting her hand in the direction of his shoulder - and missing - before she quickly reverted her attention back to the traffic, her foot pressing a bit too fiercely on the gas pedal, making the both of them jolt back in their seats.

‘WOA. CALM DOWN WOMAN.’ Henry gripped for the dashboard and gave her an exasperated look, her lips offering him a quick apologetic smile.  

‘Sorry. You usually drive.’

There it was again, one of those strange references to a life he couldn’t remember. A life that included stacks of family pictures and a car with kids seats and the smell of baby wipes and fake forest mint - he’d get rid of that stupid air refreshener the moment he could.

‘Come on…’ His wife grumbled at the traffic, her lips turning in a pout of pure focus as she tried to push the nose of the car between two sporty low riders on the right lane. ‘MOVE BITCH.’

Henry’s eyes widened at her words, the both of them laughing before she could apologise again.

‘Good gods woman. And how often DID you drive?’

‘Not too often. You were ever the gentleman.’ Her tongue poked out in sheer focus as she managed to squeeze the van into the new lane, a triumphant sigh escaping her lips before she looked back at him, making them both grin.

‘You okay, babe?’ She asked, halting the car again as they had to wait for a red light.

Babe. The simple word made his heart flutter ever so slightly, though he still wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing. An unease settled in his stomach as he looked ahead, the traffic a long string of red chimy lights that sparkled in the dusk of this cool May night, small pools of rain water mirroring the ache he must have caused this woman, his wife. Even as she now offered him a warm, sweet smile, he could see the tired hollowness that burnished her pretty face with dark eye circles and pale skin.

Henry wondered if SHE was okay, but then again..was he? He sighed and tried to relax as the car awoke again under the nervous press of her foot, his hand staying splayed out on the dash as he prayed to all that was holy that he wouldn’t get into yet another mind erasing traffic accident.

One was more than enough, thank you very much.

--

The night had wrapped the familiar Mews houses in a blanket of drab darkness and, as Henry waited for his wife to fight with the door lock, he could hear the hum of engines in the distance, this area about as quiet as you could find in the middle of London.

At least that hadn’t changed.

Smiling a little, he returned his attention to all the details he had somehow missed so much. The dents in the blue front door. The lock that wouldn’t budge before you’d twiddle with the key a little. And his trusty four pawed friend at the other side, nails tapping excitedly at the hardwood floors.

Home.

With a strange ache in his heart Henry followed the blonde woman into the house, her hand flicking over the light switch before Henry was attacked by a flurry of furry warmth and doggy licks.

‘KALLL! Kal, Kal, Kal! Hey good boy..’ Henry smiled as the large Akita near jumped up in his arms, excitement making the dog roll over onto his shoes, his proffered belly begging for a good scratch. Henry bent over to do just that, only to find himself grasping for his head as a sharp pain rushed up his scalp, a loud ring in his ears making him flinch.

‘Ah..!’ He exclaimed softly, but it wasn’t soft enough for the woman to miss, her feet quickly stepping back to him as she coddled him with soft finger strokes and gentle words.

‘Heyyyy..hey..calm.’ Henry could hear the slight worry in her voice, and he fought hard to open his eyes to at least look at her, unfamiliar love and care sparking between the both of them. ‘It’s okay.’ She breathed. ‘You’re okay. Let’s just..eh..get you up to bed, yea?’ She quickly stepped back and licked her lip, unsure of how to proceed with her stranger-of-a-husband.

Henry felt another painful jolt ring up through his skull, and so he could only nod in defeat, eyes clenching closed as he let the woman lead him up to the master bedroom.

Before long he was safely wrapped in the familiar smell of his own sheets, the bedroom a safe haven that had changed little except for the signs of a person that had slept on the other pillow, her smell still lingering.

That same smell now stepped into the doorway in the shapely appearance of dark jeans with hastily washed off toothpaste stains and a comfy cable knit sweater, long blond tresses cascading over her shoulders. She had taken the moment to get rid of their jackets and calm down Kal. 

‘You comfortable? I’m just going to message the day nurse to give her an update on...’ The woman hesitated, and then simply shrugged.

‘Yea, thank you,..eh..’ Henry felt a lump form in his throat as he realised he couldn’t remember her name, his face turning a blank at the rise of her mischievous eyebrows.

Shit.

‘Say now Mr. Cavill, have you forgotten my ..name?’ Her tired lips curled up in a smile.

‘I …’

It’s like she was making him sweat on purpose, her smile growing ever so slightly.

‘Bee?’ He tried.

She chuckled, a silent relief unclenching the tightness in her shoulders. ‘Well there’s one thing you remember. Or did you pick that up when I was on the phone?’

‘It was the phone.’

She sighed, knowing it had been too good to be true, her head shaking. ‘Shucks. Anyways. It’s Phoebe, or Feebs. Though Bee is the general “go to”.’ She marched out to the larger dresser, her fingers quietly clicking open one of the doors to retrieve some fresh linens. ‘And I used to call you Bear, in case you wonder. But eh, I guess that’s for another time.’ She heaved the pile of white cotton in her arm and gave him a puzzled look. ‘Or, maybe never.’ She quickly turned on her heel, her lips barely managing to hide the sadness that licked at her words.  

Henry smiled gently. ‘Thank you Phoebe-Bee.’

Her shoulders tensed up again. ‘I’ll..eh..be in one of the other -’

‘Wait, you’re not sleeping..?’ His voice trailed off as he looked at the slightly tousled sheets and pillow next to him - he knew she used to sleep there.

‘No, no. I’ll be right next -’

‘You can sleep here if you want.’

He had hoped the words would bring her comfort, but all he released was sorrow, a single tear sliding down her cheek as she looked over her shoulder at him.

‘I-I...oh, fuck, this is so silly.’ She quickly wiped the tear away, her body turning back again so she could hide the anguish that wrecked behind her light hearted facade. ‘I’m sorry, let’s just..’

‘Phoebe,’ Henry pleaded, earning a soft sniffle from her. ‘hey. Come now sweetheart. Come here.’

And like he hoped, these dark chocolate words did bring some sort of comfort, a short chuckle escaping her lips as she slowly shook her head. ‘You used to say that a lot.’

‘Well, you bet I did! And if you keep crying like that, I’ll come over to you instead!’ He pushed the sheets off, revealing his black boxers and two muscular long legs. 

For a moment he could see her look down over her shoulder, look down at him, guilty eyes not daring to really look to much before Henry’s gentle arm wrapped around her back as he escorted her to the edge of the mattress, her body eagerly leaning into him as they both sat down, more tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘Now, settle down, sugar.’ He hushed, brushing away some of the golden hair that curtained her stormy eyes.

Again he could feel a slight tingle in his loins, and, for all it was worth, Henry hoped that it could be a sign that he would remember her soon. Even if it was just a little. With a tender caress he brushed his palm over her back, his eyes studying her silhouette in the lowlights of the bedroom. She looked exhausted, her hands desperately clutching onto the messy white pile of sheets in her arms.

They sat like that for a moment. In a confusingly friendly manner, her breathing slowly calming and tears drying on her cheeks. 

‘Hey. If you promise not to bite, neither will I, okay?’

His words were met with a confused rise of her left eyebrow. ‘What?’

‘Biting bed bugs I can survive, but biting wives? I’m..eh..hahah, not so sure.’

Finally, that sweet smile of hers returned. ‘Oh Bear.’

‘Hi Bee,’ He returned her sweet smile and moved up his hand to brush a thumb over her cheek. ‘let’s both get some sleep, okay?’

Slowly, hesitantly, her gaze merged with his, an uncertainty still lingering deep in her midnight blues as she nodded her head yes. ‘Okay.’

And so, minutes later, Henry found himself in his bed with a wife. His wife, her sweet soft snores heard moments after her head had hit the pillow, her blonde hair splayed out over the dove grey satin. Again, he felt his stomach wring, but now it was with guilt, because as he looked at her sleeping form, darkness hiding most of her face, he could still see the pull of her eyebrows, the concerns of life not leaving her even in her sleep.

Henry sighed quietly and turned on his back, his eyes studying the familiar ceiling above his head, dark beams running long lines over a canvas of white. He had a million questions he still needed answers to. And, from the way people had evaded some of his questions, he knew there was still a lot to unpack; he hadn’t even been allowed to use his phone or laptop in the hospital. Then again, now he at least had someone who probably knew it all.

A wife. How about that?

Smiling to himself, he wondered what he would do tomorrow now his every step was no longer monitored by the hawk-like eyes of the hospital staff. He could like..start making phone calls. Or send some e-mails. Or better yet... figure out what was up with the tiny details that referred to..children. Children’s seats. Smells. And.. did he see Lego pieces strewn around in the hallway?

Children, could you imagine? Henry, a dad? Sniffling in amusement, Henry turned his face back to the woman next to him. Where were the children anyways? Had she been a single mom when they met? Was a crazy ex now taking care of her brood? Did she miss them? Miss him? The ..old Henry?

No, don’t think of that.

Sighing again, Henry’s lips opened, the words so gentle he hoped it wouldn’t wake her. ‘Good night Bee.’ He watched as she shifted a little, but didn’t wake. ‘and thank you. This must be as weird for you as it’s for me, but at least we’re ..home, hmm?’ He watched her silhouette a moment longer and then turned away, the familiar streak of light from the streetlight seeping in through the cracked open door. 

If only he could remember what had happened. 

--

Chap 2 >

--

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @hell1129-blog @agniavateira​ @tillthelandslide @elinesama 

[theweekinarrowfic]

Completed Arrow Multichapters on AO3, October 31-November 27, 2021

NOTE: I’m now crossposting to https://theweekinarrowfic.dreamwidth.org. Also, I’m looking for volunteers to test out my fic recommender! Need more Arrow in your life? Why not try one of the multchapter fanfics recently completed by our talented fic writers?

Olicity

Swiss Army and Arrows by Cdngirl_85 (Oliver/Felicity, 7/7, 2021-11-19) - As the Dwarf Star gets taken by men, MacGyver and team gets sent to Star City to help Palmer Tech recover the important and very dangerous material. As Felicity and Team Arrow is doing the same thing. Will the two teams meet since they are after the same object? But what surprises both teams is how similar they were including romantic tension between two of their members.

Other Arrow Ships

A Trip to an Alternate Reality by stalker_ace (Sara-centric, 5/5, 2021-11-07) - It started with the White Canary chasing a would-be rapist through the alleyways, and it ended with her finding herself in a reality far different than the one that she had left. Would Sara Lance, the White Canary, be able to find her way back home?

Justice will Prevail by DarkShado for Lauriverfanboy1 (Laurel/Oliver, 21/21, 2021-11-15) - The Thanagarians have arrived to invade Earth. But Earths Greatest Heroes stand in the way. Meanwhile, The Monitor recruits Oliver Queen into forming a team in order to stop the Thanagarians, Oliver must bring together The Justice League.

Letting the Arrow Fly (Revamped) by GrimReaperlover11 (Roy/OMC (Queen sibling), 18/18, 2021-11-17) - Nathan Queen has always looked up to his brother…until his brother dies and leaves him alone.; but when his brother returns home after being found alive…how will Nathan’s already changed world…adapt to being flipped on its head.

Requiem by AndraM2 (Bruce Wayne/OFC, Oliver/Felicity as side pairing, 25/25, 2021-11-05) - The plan to foil an assassination attempt takes a deadly turn for Batman.

Slept so long by KathleenRaven (Barry Allen/Oliver, 43/43, 2021-10-31) - Love is stronger than death; Oliver Queen has been waiting for a long time, he was separated from the love of his life and awaits the moment to be reunited with him.; Barry Allen suffered the loss from an early age, involved in an event that he cannot explain, the presence of something supernatural is constant in his life.

A Selective Gathering: Legend by ArlyssTolero, Nyame (Team-centric, tagged anti-Felicity, anti-olicity, 93/93, 2021-11-03) - The Spectre, acting on orders from The Source, gathers a group of individuals together at the Vanishing Point who will play a key role in Oliver Queen’s mission to stop the Crisis (or were meant to) in an effort to ensure the best possible outcome to this effort.

Words We’ll Say in Greeting by Artemis_Luna (Barry Allen/Kara Danvers/Oliver, 17/17, 2021-11-05) - Kara has two soulmates; she knows this by the elegant script on the middle of her back that says “"Green Arrow”“ and the almost childlike handwriting on her shoulder blade that reads ”“You’re on fire!”“; She doesn’t know what’s more absurd, the fact that one of her soulmates’ first words to her will involve arrows, or that she will apparently catch fire in front of the other.

(Loving Me Would Be) Your First Mistake by Retrogeekgal (John Constantine/Reader, 50/50, 2021-10-29) - When you first meet John Constantine, you can’t stand him. He’s a frustrating mix of arrogant, charming and cocky as Hell. Exactly your type, and exactly the type you should stay away from. You tell yourself that despite his obvious flirting, you have no interest in him whatsoever.; As he deliberately puts himself your path, you begin to see the jaded con man differently. Your mutual attraction becomes undeniable, especially after John saves your life. He reluctantly agrees to tutor you in the Dark Arts, a decision that will irrevocably change both your lives.; But being with a man like him is far from easy. John has secrets that threaten him and what he feels for you. When his past refuses to stay buried, will John choose you or risk your life by surrendering to his own previous mistakes?

Returning to Love by RyoChi28 (Sara/Leonard Snart, 11/11, 2021-11-26) - When Len appears in the Arrow Bunker as an Ice and Time Metahuman, bonds are formed stronger than he ever expected. Upon the Waverider’s return, Sara holds back. Will she be able to overcome her own worries, fears, and insecurities? Or will she lose Len to Team Flash and Team Arrow?

Avalanche by Coolestjoy30 (Kamilla Hwang/Cisco Ramon, Oliver and Felicity listed as characters, 21/21, 2021-11-25) - After Cisco and Kamilla leave Team Flash, their lives are pleasant, a nice break from the chaos of Central City. But, when new suspicions about ARGUS arise, revealing dangerous and evil plans, Cisco and Kamilla are thrown into a life where nothing is certain, not even each other.; They both feel their worlds collapsing down, and it will take all of the strength they can muster to keep on going, survive, and come back to each other.

A Top, a Switch and a Bottom Walk into a Bar by Oliverslicity for inlovewithimpossibility, AlexiaBlackbriar13 (Tommy/Oliver/Felicity, 6/6, 2021-11-09) - When a joke being told during lunch leads to a conversation, none of them expected to have. A high school au of something not quite covered in health class by their overlord Felicity Smoak.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Heaven, Hell and You

John Constantine x OFC (Valerie Moore) (A/n- been working on this for a while so please be gentle. Should run for approx. 10 chapters)

Warnings- Violence, mentions of mental health.

Masterlist     *masterlist for this series coming later.

Chapter 1

He could feel the dread in his bones, and being caught in the middle of a war that no one had prepared for was turning out to be unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He supposed it had been a long time coming though; the  whispers had long started growing louder and the things lurking in the shadows had slowly found their way to light; growing bolder by the day. Angels and demons alike. Most of the time, they looked so human, it was hard to tell, but John could see, he could always see. He could see then too.

“She’s mine,” the disfigured creature hissed, its face half deteriorated, looking sickeningly decayed. It’s clothes were tattered form the battle that had, for a reason that he couldn't distinguish, been put on hold and the half breed seemed almost broken in the back, hunched over and possibly minutes away from returning from where it had come. Still though, it was willing to put up a fight, and even if it had perished, by his, or anyone else’s hand, John knew more would come, hell seemed to be spitting them out by the dozens by then.

“Yours?” An angel, one he wasn’t readily familiar with, chuckled wearily, flexing her wings as a show of unwavering strength, brandishing her blood stained sword offensively, so close to the demon’s face that it had to step back to evade an ending slice, “Can’t you see? She doesn’t belong with filth like you, her home is with us. Surrender now and I might be obliged to let you and the rest of your army live.” The angel, clad in her ruined garment seemed more willing to fight, more able too, than her demonic opponent, and already, John could tell that soon, they’d be at it again.

The funny thing was, John thought as he spectated, was that he couldn’t really tell where he stood, mentally or physically. Instead, he felt like an inactive participant, observing the destroyed streets of downtown Los Angeles from a window or television screen. No voice, no ability to impact the outcomes, not even visible. Though, he could hear and see perfectly, right from where he was, wherever that may be.

“Never,” the bitter conversation in the distance carried on as if he weren't even there, “She’s ours, her mother is one of us,” the demon reared back again when the angel took another swipe at it, its steps barely evading what was left of a hellish corpse. For the briefest second, John took his eyes off the exchange, drinking in his surroundings, his mouth falling open as he finally realized the devastation. It was as if heaven and hell had faced a gory collision, right there on earth. Corpses laid strewn on the streets and sidewalks, broken wings behind perished angels, mangled bodies of dead demons, and worst of all, dozens of humans, all caught in the crossfire, now gone, committed to either eternal plane all because they’d been collateral damage. The sweltering air was thick with the stench of charred flesh and pungent sulfur, turning his stomach. Smoke from burning buildings gave the atmosphere a hazy tint while the remaining flames lapped at the starless, moonless sky, almost begging for mercy from a god that wasn’t going to give it.

God was a kid with an ant farm, and now, the ant farm was burning and he couldn’t give a shit.

The angel chuckled, a slight breeze blowing her auburn locks forward as she shook her head, “And her father is of us. She is more him than her wretched mother,” she spat, as if the words had left the foulest taste on her divine tongue. 

The demon’s laugh was reminiscent of a hacking cough, “Of you?” Cracking it’s neck and shrugging shoulders, John could tell that hell wasn’t about to toss in the towel that soon, “Her father should have become a fallen, but I suppose that being daddy’s favorite has always had its perks. But it doesn’t matter, he forsook her, left her for dead. And it would be in your favor to forsake the girl too.”

There was no use in trying to work out who the subject of their conversation, because John didn’t have the slightest clue. Just then though, a voice caught his attention from behind a pile of rubble, small and shaking with fear, “Help me,” she sobbed softly, causing him to turn, only just realizing that he too was caught in the disrepair. Tilting his head, John turned fully, bending slightly to get a better look of her. She was young and he could tell that beneath the blood and soot streaking her face and matting her dark hair, she was beautiful. Full lips quivered as she continued, and the lower one still shone with fresh blood from a nasty split, “Please help me,” tears joined the mess on her cheeks, and in an instant, John was hurrying to her side, melting at her helplessness.

“They’re looking for you?” he held her at the shoulders, her torn blouse allowing him to feel the softness of her milky skin, so silky and warm. He’d never seen beauty like hers, so ethereal, though with a darkness in her eyes that may suggest that there was more than what met the eyes. 

Nodding, her breath hitched and she sniffled, “But I don’t know why. Please help me,” when a set of footsteps drew closer to where they were hiding, the young woman grabbed John’s biceps, her nails digging into the white fabric of his dress shirt, “Please-”

A boney, yellowish hand with mangled fingers reached out, grabbing the nameless woman by the back of her torn blouse, hosting her up like she weighed nothing. On instinct, John reached out for her flailing hands, hoping to tug her back to him and buy her, at the very least, a few more minutes. Barely, he caught the tips of her fingers, feeling her nails graze his palms, but none of it lasted too long, and soon, she was tucked hastily to a demon’s chest, wails escaping her plump, pink lips, “No!” She screamed, still reaching out for him.

John awoke with a startle, shooting up in the darkness, hair stuck to his face and chest dominated with heavy breaths. For a minute, he’d thought he was still with the girl, and with a yell, he lunged forward, hoping to grab her, but when he was met with nothing but air, John realized his true surroundings. He was at home, in his bed, tangled in the thin sheets and all alone.

Drenched and frenzied, John lingered there for a minute more before shoving the covers off his legs and shuffling out of bed, headed for the kitchen, barely noting that he’d perspired through the sheets. He knew the loft by heart, and in no time, after expertly evading pieces of his rickety furniture, he was at the kitchen sink, grabbing a glass off the counter and filling it with tap water before downing the entire thing in one go. Before that, his mouth had felt as if he’d just spat out a fistful of cotton, dry and uncomfortable, and as John refilled the glass, he tried to push the memories of his all to vivid dream away.

He’d been having it so often, or at least, ones like it. The city was always in ruins, there was always a war between hell and heaven, and the final common variable was the girl. The gorgeous girl whose name John didn’t know. In every version, she’d clung to him for dear life, and in every version, he’d failed her, always left helpless as she was claimed by one side or the other. Angie, when he’d mentioned it once, had told him that he should probably see a therapist or something, that the dreams were probably just a manifestation of his guilt now that he was trying to turn his life around. But what the hell did she know?

Of course, John didn’t have the slightest clue on what to make of the dreams, but he did know two things for sure; he didn’t need a therapist and he should probably stop drinking before bed.

“Valerie…..”

“Huh?” She turned, looking up the dim corridor, trying to suppress the frightened shiver that had run up her spine upon seeing that there was no one behind her. “Okay Val, you’re just hearing things. There’s nothing there,” her whispered reassurances did nothing to comfort her, and as Valerie neared the elevator,  her quick walk turned into a full on jog. 

She always hated working that late, but it wasn’t an occurrence she could avoid anyway, especially when her bills were continuously piling higher, her debt sinking her deeper and the only way out of it was by taking on extra shifts when she could get them. Breathlessly, Valerie slipped into the elevator, pretending that she didn’t notice the eerie flickering of the hall lights just as the fading doors hummed closed. Hastily, she hit the knob that would take her to the underground parking lot, hoping the ride down would go by faster than usual. At least when she got home, she’d know for sure that she was the only one there and that the only creepy voice taunting her, was the one in her head. 

Or, so she thought. 

Finally, when the doors opened, with her keys already in hand, she started the trek to her car, hoping to put the hospital in her rearview as soon as possible. That was when she heard it again, “Valerie……” It had been louder that time, and by then, she was absolutely sure that there was someone calling her name.

“Who’s there?” She turned abruptly, brown strands escaped from her loose ponytail whipping her in the face. Reaching into her tote, Valerie felt around for the canister of pepper spray that her very paranoid father had gifted her a couple months prior. Though, with the way things were going, she was starting to understand exactly why he was always so concerned for her safety. “I know someone’s here,” she desperately tried to steady her voice, “I swear to god, if you pull something, I’ll kick your ass.”

In actuality, she probably could not kick their ass, but they didn’t need to know that.

“My sweet Daeva,” a female voice taunted, that time offering more than than the others usually did, though Valerie wasn’t quite sure she’d heard it right. It was almost as if the words were blowing past her ear, far too quickly for her to really pick them up, “It’s time to come home.”

Gulping and having decided that pepper spray might not be enough to ward off potential kidnappers, Valerie took off, feet hitting the floor hard with each step as she ran towards her car, parked all the way on the opposing side. Her lungs burnt more than it had in awhile, and even as she moved clumsily, she scoured for the right key, singling it out just in the nick of time. 

Getting in, she turned the key in the ignition, grateful that it started without trouble and quickly pulling out of the spot. With her foot heavy on the gas, Valerie broke out onto the deserted side street, droplets from the night’s heavy drizzle pattering against her windshield, running down the front, occasionally swept to the side by the wipers. The streets were almost barren, as a consequence of it being past two am, and even worse yet, because of the rain that had poured heavily on and off throughout the day. 

Her eyes were heavy, two twelve hour shifts weighing them down, and as Valerie continued driving and the adrenaline from the parking lot wore off, it was a fight to keep them open. Just about twenty minutes longer. The windows were up, the air conditioning humming loudly, joining the soft rumbling of her engine as she pressed forward. Sighing deeply, taking note of the lights ahead, Valerie shook her head vigorously, hoping to ward off sleep, though, it only worked for a couple seconds, and before she knew it, her lids were drooping closed again, lashes tangling and skewing her vision.

Maybe a minute wouldn’t kill her, she was almost home anyway.

“Valerie!” A voice far different from the ones before yelled her name, making her eyes snap open, just in time for her to slightly lift her foot only to slam it on the brakes, bringing her car to a screeching halt. 

“Fuck!” She breathed heavily; she’d almost ran a red light…..and hit a person! Right there, in front of her car, stood a man, dressed all in white, like a hospital warden or something similar, not looking scared, startled or dazed in the slightest, not even jumping like she had when right after, a three ton sped noisily across the intersection. Had he not been there and she’d run the lights, it might have killed her. The man still stood rigid, merely an inch away from the hood of her car. She’s almost hit someone, possibly almost killed him. “Oh my god,” she fought a sob, shifting the gear into park, only bending her head to shut the engine off before getting out to check on her almost victim. Though, when she raised her head again, much to her dismay, he was gone. Not off to the side or across the street, he was just gone, like he’d vanished in thin air. 

From the safety of her car, she spent not more than a second looking around and afterwards, Valerie quickly got the vehicle started again, choosing to count the ordeal as a rare stroke of luck, and hoping to get home, hopefully without any other mishap. 

Little did she know, the trouble was only just beginning. 

******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi  @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves  @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea  @luxx-aeterna​