#collared oracle/ic

[ashveil-archives]

🛁 “Join me?”

//Any male or female muse you feel like using//

🛁 “Join me?” — Bath or shower is running. Suggestive offer included.

The blonde elf nodded, the movement slow and slightly shy, a soft blush blooming across his tanned cheeks. His golden eyes stayed fixed on the larger man with quiet intensity, following each motion as he undressed and stepped into the bath. The air was warm, thick with steam and the faint scent of herbs, but it was the presence of the other that truly made Caelis's heart race.

“Did you want me to wash you, Master?” he asked, his voice gentle—submissive, yes, but also threaded with sincere care. His golden hair cascaded down his back like molten sunlight, the strands catching the steam as he waited for the larger man’s response. There was no hesitation in his offer, only a quiet eagerness to please, to serve, and perhaps to be seen.

[grogumaximus]

Hihi!! is this article new? it has a paywall :( https://www.theaustralian.com.au/subscribe/news/1/?sourceCode=TAWEB_WRE170_a_GGL&dest=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.theaustralian.com.au%2Flife%2Fwish%2Fmax-verstappen-has-his-eyes-on-the-prize-at-f1-melbourne-with-new-lvmh-partnership%2Fnews-story%2F7632ff3144b64fb64330355b54844985&memtype=anonymous&mode=premium&BT=Newspass

Max Verstappen has his eyes on the prize at F1 Melbourne with new LVMH partnership

He is the pre-eminent driver of his generation, already considered an all-time great by many. We meet the father-to-be ahead of Formula One powering into Melbourne next week.

A billion pounds is a lot of money in anyone’s language – indeed it’s nudging two billion in ours – and yet that’s how much is reportedly being dangled in front of Formula One driver, and four-time world champion, Max Verstappen, like a particularly shiny and tempting carrot.

But how can he be worth that much, I hear you splutter? Sure, you can’t manage a 160km/h baseball pitch, or nail most of your shots from behind the three-point arc in the NBA, but most of us can drive a car. He’s just got to sit there, right? One steering wheel, two pedals, and $2 billion?

Here’s the thing, you quite simply could not physically drive a Formula One car, let alone race one. It’s not just the speed – hitting 200km/h from a standing start in four seconds before maxing out at 375km/h – it’s the physical punishment.

To drive his Oracle Red Bull race car, Verstappen has to literally lie down, as if he’s in a particularly fast bathtub, with the pedals where the taps would be. While the G-forces, which can exceed six times gravity under braking, apply brutal pressure to his whole body, during long corners his head is out there in the rushing air, pulling five Gs, which means it effectively weighs approximately 25 kilograms, or the same as an eight-year-old boy.

This is why Formula One drivers have necks like sequoia trunks. When Lewis Hamilton started racing he had a 14-inch collar; it’s now 18 inches.

That notional bath that Verstappen is in is also full of very hot water, because his carbon-fibre sarcophagus can reach 50°C (at one scorching event in Qatar in 2023, drivers reported vomiting in their helmets from the heat) and during the course of the race he can lose as much as five per cent of his body weight in fluids. That loss also affects mental function, according to Formula One experts, with each kilogram you sweat costing you, temporarily, as much as 10 per cent of your brain power.

Which brings us to that steering wheel, which is not only covered in two dozen buttons also but features dials that allow the drivers to shift the brake balance in and out of the corners they are approaching at more than 300km/hour.

Verstappen, 27, describes it as being, “Like a rollercoaster that shoots off, but faster than you think, whilst having a steering wheel in your hands with all the buttons,” before mentioning that “the weather conditions massively affect driving the car”. His vehicle has more than 1000 horsepower, but no traction control at all other than his right foot, so in the rain it’s like strapping a whirring chainsaw to each boot and attempting to ice skate.

“Of course, it would be nice if the weather was always good, but that is what makes F1 exciting and fun as a driver: to adapt and push to the limits,” he explains following the shoot, captured at The Maybourne Riviera hotel above his home in Monaco. “It can be tough to train for such extreme conditions, especially for a race like Qatar a few years ago, but it is definitely something you try to get used to.”

I was once unfortunate enough to be a passenger in a Formula One car for a few laps of the Albert Park circuit in Melbourne, where this year’s season will kick off with the Formula 1 Louis Vuitton Australian Grand Prix 2025 from March 13 to 16 (and where Verstappen became the youngest F1 debutant ever, aged 17, at his first race in 2015).

The G-forces in the middle of a long corner felt like I was being hit hard, sideways, by an angry rhinoceros and I seriously thought about taking my finger off the Dead Man’s Button they make you hold; because if you pass out you will let go and that will notify the driver to slow down. Staying conscious is tough; thinking about actual racing and tactics on top of that sounds impossible. I was unwell for hours afterwards.

Verstappen’s job, then, is not easy, but he’s already been well compensated for risking life and limb, with an estimated net worth north of $300 million. Last year he bought himself a $22 million superyacht, and he recently added a new $80 million private jet to his collection of toys.

Fortunately, he doesn’t have to buy his own watches, courtesy of being a friend of TAG Heuer, adding that he wears his statement timepiece, a TAG Heuer Monaco, “both on and away from track”.

“Of course, it would be nice if the weather was always good but that is what makes F1 exciting and fun as a driver: to adapt and push to the limits.” – Max Verstappen

“It is customised with my name and has the years of my first three championships engraved, which is extra special. They are engraving the fourth at the moment,” adds Verstappen who is expecting a child with his partner, Brazilian model Kelly Piquet.

Antoine Pin, chief executive of TAG Heuer, recognises the synergies between driver and brand, but also what it takes to achieve a champion’s mindset such as Verstappen’s.

“[TAG Heuer] has been with Formula One for almost 60 years now … because from the very beginning, Jack Heuer [the last member of the brand’s founding Swiss family to manage the manufacture] realised this intensity. These Formula One drivers, they are the knights of modern times in a way. They’re going for fight, they’re going in duels, they’re ready to face death.”

And so, we come to what makes Verstappen so special that a rival team, Aston Martin, is reportedly negotiating a $2 billion deal to lure him away from Oracle Red Bull for the 2026 season. It sounds fantastical, except that Aston already poached Red Bull’s brilliant race-car designer Adrian Newey who – alongside charismatic team boss and Mr Ginger Spice, Christian Horner – engineered much of his success and is paying him a rumoured $60 million a year.

Formula One cars are ground-bound fighter jets – they have so much downforce that they could drive upside down on the roof of a tunnel above a certain speed – which means designing them to maximise the flow of air, and thus their speed, is vital. Which is one of the things that will make this year’s season so interesting.

With Newey gone, and thus the chance his Red Bull will not be the fastest car on the grid, will Verstappen be able to maintain the utter dominance that has seen him win the past four Formula One World Drivers’ Championships?

What is undeniable is that he is the driver of his generation, and some would suggest he is already an all-time great, but his seemingly unrelenting will to win has been known to tip over into conflict. In boxing terms, Verstappen is a combination of Muhammad Ali and Mike Tyson, or to put it in more local parlance, he’s the Tony Lockett of Formula One – fantastically talented, but likely to flatten you if you annoy him.

His fans, which include much of his native Holland, would say he simply hates being overtaken and will go a lot further than most drivers to stop it from happening. In last year’s Mexican Grand Prix he was hit with two penalties after tangling with McLaren driver Lando Norris (the teammate of Aussie hopeful Oscar Piastri, who nine-time Formula One Grand Prix winner Mark Webber describes as our best chance in decades of being a world champion).

Norris went so far as to call Verstappen “dangerous” after the race, former world champion Damon Hill accused him of driving like Dick Dastardly from Wacky Races, and respected commentator Martin Brundle also lashed out.

“I know that Max doesn’t care what anybody thinks, but it saddens me when he drives like that,” Brundle said. “He’s a multiple champion, has more driving talent in his little finger than most of us ever had, but his legacy will be tainted by this sporting attitude, and that’s a shame.”

A few races later, Verstappen reportedly had a fiery encounter out of the car with another rival, Mercedes driver George Russell, who said the champion threatened to deliberately crash into him and to “put me on my f***ing head in the wall”. Verstappen’s response to the ensuing media firestorm was to tell Dutch television that Russell could “get lost” and that “I meant everything I said”.

Despite this, Norris has previously described Verstappen – often seen sharing private jets between races with other drivers – as a good friend.

“Of course, at times it can get a bit tense on track but off the track, that shouldn’t matter at the end of the day,” Verstappen explains. “I have good relationships with the drivers on the grid. We always try to do the best we can on track to get the best possible result, but the main thing is that we can talk about it afterwards.”

If you want to win in Formula One, you need the best – and perhaps the most ruthless – driver. And clearly Aston Martin wants to win, but $2 billion still sounds like a lot until you consider the global financial clout of the sport. Formula One received a huge boost from the success of brilliant Netflix series, Drive to Survive, which turned each season since 2019 into a highly watchable sporting soap opera (Verstappen refuses to take part in the show directly, and won’t answer questions about it).

The ratings hit has driven the popularity of F1 in the US – which had previously been the one global holdout – through the roof and led to the adding of two new American races, in Miami and Las Vegas, to the circuit. It also drove an increase in income from the many acres of advertising splashed all over the cars and the drivers. As of this year, the Formula One Group has a market cap of $39.6 billion, an impressive rise from when the sport was bought by Liberty Media in 2014 for $7.3 billion.

With new drivers on the grid this year, including Australian Jack Doohan, the son of motorcycling legend Mick, and New Zealand’s Liam Lawson, there will be thrills and spills aplenty. But one driver remains the hot favourite and the hot-headed man to beat. Put your billions on Max Verstappen.

[hanespiritu]

WHAT MAKES A MAN

(Agamemnon x Odysseus)

written by: Han Espiritu

Disclaimer: story idea from @makthemultifandomnonbinaryfellow nyehehehe I kinda like this one~ I made Odysseus sassier tho, hope it's alright. Also had to stay up late last night just to check any wrong spelling >>is dyslexic<<

---

The Aegis cut through the sea like a blade through flesh—elegant, merciless. Bronze armor shimmered under the blistering sun, but all Odysseus could think about was how boring this post-battle recovery was.

No one was plotting anything. No gods were whispering madness. Even the crew’s gossip was stale.

Until—

“He’s only so smug because the Commander’s fucking him.”

Odysseus paused mid-step.

Another voice snorted. “Right? He can’t win a fight without trickery. Never earned his name—just sucked his way to the top.”

He blinked. Oh. Oh, this was delightful.

He turned, slow as honey sliding from a blade, and the deck quieted like prey sensing a predator. He scanned the gathered soldiers lounging near the rigging—bronze-clad, young, loud-mouthed—and found the source: a thick-armed brute from Sparta with more biceps than brains.

“Excuse me,” Odysseus said, voice sweet like figs rotting in the sun. “I must’ve misheard. Were you saying that my strategic brilliance is the result of being—what was it?—‘fucked into competence’?”

The man stiffened, but Odysseus wasn’t finished.

“Oh, please. Do go on. I’m always fascinated by the hypothesis that getting railed turns one into a military genius. If that’s true, you should be a goddamn oracle, considering how hard you’ve been bent over by failure your entire career.”

Snickers erupted. Someone dropped a spear.

Odysseus took a few leisurely steps toward him, still smiling like a dagger dressed in silk. “And you—what’s your name again? Ah. Doesn’t matter. You’ve contributed less to this war than the rats in the cargo hold. At least they know how to scurry into somewhere useful.”

“You—” the man began, fists clenched.

“You?” Odysseus echoed mockingly. “Gods, don’t strain yourself. I know words aren’t your strong suit.”

Laughter crackled across the deck like fire through dry brush.

And then—click.

Boots. Heavy. Measured.

Agamemnon stepped onto the deck like wrath personified. The laughter died instantly. Even the wind seemed to shudder.

His eyes scanned the gathered crew before landing—ice cold—on the Spartan.

“What’s going on here?”

“Just a lesson in logic,” Odysseus drawled. “This one’s under the impression that I only have a brain because you rearranged my guts.”

Agamemnon’s brows slowly rose. His gaze flicked to Odysseus, who looked positively feral with amusement.

“Is that so?” Agamemnon asked.

Odysseus nodded, turning his back to the Spartan entirely—boldly. “He thinks I can’t fight. That all I do is trick people. And fuck you.”

Agamemnon looked like a storm trapped in a man.

“Only two of those are true,” Odysseus added cheerfully. “And neither are his business.”

Without hesitation, he strode up to Agamemnon, grabbed him by the collar of his armor, and kissed him.

Hard.

In front of everyone.

It was not romantic. It was spiteful. It was devious. It was a middle finger made of lips.

When he pulled back, Odysseus whispered, “Let them choke on it.”

Agamemnon blinked—once, slowly—before curling a hand around Odysseus’ waist. “You’re insufferable.”

“I’m victorious,” Odysseus corrected. “But go on.”

Agamemnon turned to the crew. “Anyone else want to question the worth of my most dangerous man?”

Silence.

“I thought not.”

---

That night, their shared quarters were dim, lit only by a flickering oil lamp. The scent of salt and sweat hung in the air. Agamemnon sat on the edge of the bed, removing his bracers with a slow, practiced grace. Odysseus was sprawled across the mattress like a satisfied cat.

“Tell me,” Agamemnon began, “was humiliating that poor fool truly necessary?”

“Oh, darling,” Odysseus cooed, “if you think that was humiliation, you haven’t seen me bored on a rainy day.”

Agamemnon turned. “You kissed me like you were launching a war.”

“I did. Against mediocrity.”

“You’re reckless.”

“I’m right.”

He slid closer, resting his chin on Agamemnon’s shoulder. “They can say what they want. I’ve bled for this war. I’ve bled for you. If they think sleeping with you makes me weak—well—”

“Then they’ve clearly never tried,” Agamemnon muttered.

Odysseus burst out laughing, collapsing into his lap. “There it is. The sarcasm. Gods, I missed you.”

“I’ve been right beside you.”

“But emotionally, my love,” Odysseus said, dramatic, “you were distant. Like Sparta from common sense.”

Agamemnon rolled his eyes and tugged him fully into his arms. “You’re exhausting.”

“And you’re lucky,” Odysseus purred, tucking himself under Agamemnon’s chin. “Because when I love someone, I defend them with blade, word, and pettiness.”

Agamemnon stroked a hand through his wild curls. “You didn’t have to kiss me.”

“I wanted to. I love reminding people that I’m untouchable. I belong to no one.”

A pause. A breath.

“Except maybe you.”

Agamemnon’s arms tightened. “Maybe?”

Odysseus looked up, eyes shining. “I’d carve it into Olympus if I weren’t afraid they’d smite me for vandalism.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m yours.”

Quiet. Safe. Wrapped in fire and wool.

Agamemnon whispered, “They’ll talk.”

Odysseus kissed his collarbone. “Then let them speak in awe.”

---

⚠️ Plagiarism Warning:

This work is original and written by HAN ESPIRITU. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission. Plagiarizing or claiming this story as your own is strictly prohibited and will be reported.

[ersatz-ostrich]

See You Again

Chapter 3: Ten Years

Jason Todd x f!reader

Red Hood takes you to the Cave for treatment.

[A/N]: I'm so glad I gave this chapter a once-over before publishing it. I think I hammered out all 3,900-ish words of this chapter almost exclusively between the hours of 11 PM and 2 AM. I swear, this fic has me in a chokehold. Anyways, the plot thickens...and we uncover more of Jason and MC's shared history! Happy reading :)

Warnings: none

read here on ao3

<< previous || next >>

masterlist

Somewhere over Missouri

1:21:44 AM CT

“Red Hood, do you wanna tell me why you requested access to a Wayne Enterprises hangar at an R&D facility outside of San Diego?”

“Oracle, I’m in a hurry to get back to the Batcave. I need Alfred or whoever’s in the Cave to prepare the medbay for a patient with a potentially infectious virus.” 

“Hood, what’s your status?” Batman’s voice replaced Oracle’s. His voice, stern as always, carried a twinge of worry.

“I have a civilian patient with me right now. They're a target; they need to be treated under the radar.”

“I’ll have Alfred prepare a bed.” 

“Tell him that Y/N L/N’s coming back.”

A pause.

“Will do, Hood.” This time it was Oracle’s voice. “And try not to crash the experimental supersonic shuttle you just commandeered.”

“No promises.”

Red Hood turned his seat to face where you lay unconscious, strapped to one of the benches in the hold meant for military personnel. The shuttle wasn’t built for transporting incapacitated patients like yourself, so he had to improvise—something that he wished he didn’t have to do. Hell, he wished more than anything that he could have reunited with you in a different situation, one where your life wasn’t on the line, one where he didn’t have to hide behind a mask. He simply wasn’t ready for you to see him like this, not after you had gone about your life thinking that Jason Todd had died in a warehouse in the snowy outskirts of Sarajevo.

After you had passed out, he had rushed you away from the scene of the break-in, which was swarming with LAPD and government personnel, and driven out of the city with you in the backseat of the car he’d borrowed from Roy for the operation, probably breaking a few traffic laws in the process. Once he’d driven out of city limits and reached the open road, he pulled over and all but flung the backseat door open, your Styrofoam case full of vaccines and samples in his hands. He opened the case and found a mess of ice, vials, and sterile packs of syringes inside, jumbled from all of the rooftop grappling and swinging the two of you had done. 

“Vaccines are pink, viruses are clear…” He muttered to himself, picking up one of the vials and examining them under the lone streetlamp he had parked under. The vial had been labeled with the total volume and the correct dosage of the vaccine. Your penmanship, he noticed, was unmistakable, even after all of the years that had passed. Unpackaging the syringe, he dispensed the correct volume of the vaccine, flicking the syringe to dispel any air bubbles, and gingerly parted the collar of your PPE. “Shit…” The blackened, distended veins had extended further across your clavicle, tendrils crawling up your neck and around your shoulders. Grimacing, he injected the vaccine into your shoulder, packed up, and kept driving, racking his brain for the fastest way to get to the one place where he knew you could be treated. 

Now, he watched you, caught in a fever dream. You were so close to slipping away from him just as your trajectories had crossed.

“I won’t let you die, Y/N.” He whispered. “Fight it. Please. ” I can’t lose you. Not when I just got you back.

Gotham Academy

Ten Years Ago

You tapped your pencil against the thick textbook as you contemplated your last practice problem. The clock beside your dorm room bed read half past eleven, and the only light in your room came from your desk lamp, which bathed everything in a warm glow.

You were about to reach for your calculator when you heard a knock against the windowpane. You turned your head towards the sound and nearly fell out of your chair at the sight of Jason Todd waving at you through the glass. 

“What—Jason?” You hissed, rushing to open the window. “Do you know what time it is?!” Outside your window, Jason was perched atop the slanted roof, lounging as if he were sitting on a sofa rather than aging shingles. “How the hell did you get up here? You know this is the top floor, right?”

“I know. Whatcha studying for?” He replied coolly, unfazed by your scolding.

“Physics,” You answered begrudgingly, keeping your voice low. “I have a test tomorrow.”

“Physics?” Jason echoed. “So, all you gotta know is F equals MA and that’s it, right?”

“Yeah, right.” You replied jokingly. “Seriously, how did you slip away from Mr. Wayne this time?”

“He’s out of state on some business trip. Right now, it’s just me and Alfred.” 

“And does Alfred know what you’re up to?”

“...maybe.” Jason chuckled quietly. “Man, if he knows I ran off, I’m a dead man.”

“Chances are, he already knows. Guess this is the last time I’ll see you, Jailbird. Better start planning your funeral.” Jason’s grin grew wider at the nickname.

“Jailbird?”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’ll be grounded the instant you get back to Wayne Manor.” You made a show of turning away from the window, only looking back to whisper, “Farewell, Jason. I fear I may never see you again.” A beat of silence passed, and then you both collapsed into laughter, which you quickly muffled lest you both be caught by a nosy roommate or RA. After your fit had abated, Jason grasped your wrist through the open window with a warm smile.

“Seriously, though. I just wanted to see you again.” You couldn’t see the pink tint that crept onto his cheeks in the low light. You laughed softly, placing your other hand on his.

“You are one weird kid, Jason Todd.”

“Says the person who’s taking college-level physics as a sophomore.” He fired back.

“Says the person who climbed onto the roof of the girls’ dorm just to see me. You’re lucky I didn’t holler the second I saw you.” You looked past him to peer down at the scenery below. “How are you gonna get down?”

“Dunno. Same way I came up.” He answered with a shrug. “If I fall and die, I want white roses at my funeral.”

“Don’t you dare, Jason.”

Eight months. 

Eight months later, you were standing before a freshly turned plot in the Wayne family cemetery, tears streaming down your face.

“I’m very sorry, Miss L/N.” Soothed Alfred, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder as you collapsed upon the grass before Jason’s headstone.

“You meant the world to him, Y/N. I’m sorry.” From your blurred periphery, you saw Mr. Wayne, who was always so tall, so imposing, so confident , kneeling beside you. With his drawn expression and hunched posture, he looked defeated. He looked like the weight of Jason’s death had crushed his soul into the ground.

“White roses,” was all you could choke out in between hiccups. “He said he wanted white roses.” 

You were only fourteen when he died, already a sophomore at Gotham Academy. It was the peak of exam season. Finals, projects, and presentations crept nearer and you were constantly bombarded with the pressure to perform—the ‘gifted kid’, the star student, Gotham Academy’s promising STEM scholarship recipient—but you couldn’t ignore the hole that Jason Todd left. The feeling seemed to burrow into you, eat away at you, until there was nothing left but you and your thoughts and the shoebox of a dorm room that Jason used to sneak out of Wayne Manor to visit. Staring up at the ceiling from where you lay in your bed, you wished more than anything to hear the sound of Jason gently rapping his bruised knuckles against your windowpane and to see his grinning face again. 

Now, you were ensnared in the memory of that September night when he first appeared outside of your dorm window. You were staring at the same physics problems again, eyes swimming. The clock still read half past eleven. But this body was yours, ten years older than you were that night. 

You heard tapping on the windowpane. 

“Jason…?” You whispered, inching closer to the window. Your heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t aged a day. Your fingers quickly found the latch, but when you hoisted up the windowpane, you didn’t see fifteen-year-old Jason reaching for your hand. 

“Y/N.” Jason’s voice had become deeper and rougher, and the sound sent shocks down your spine. He was taller and stronger now; his teenage body had filled out to create a solid, muscular physique. His facial features, now decorated with scars, were more angular and weathered, and his jet-black hair bore a shock of white. And yet, he was still Jason; you could not deny it. You saw it in his smile, in the crease of his eyes. “Time to wake up.”

The Batcave

3:08:16 AM ET

The beep of the bedside monitor pierced the tense silence of the Batcave medbay. 

“How long does she have left, Alfred?”

“We’re not sure, Master Jason. The vaccine seems to have stopped the progression of the disease, but there may be some unforeseen side effects.” Jason sucked in a breath. 

“We’re looking into the documents from the Polestar program,” Bruce supplied. “Oracle was able to access CDC and STAR Labs databases to extract any relevant knowledge they might have.”

“If it helps, Y/N and her team were very thorough with their documentation of the behavior of the virus in their test subjects,” Oracle remarked through the comms. “From what I can tell, they believe the virus to have extraterrestrial origins. The most recent version of the vaccine to go through animal trials seems to function primarily by genetically modifying the vaccine to stop attacking host tissue and coexist in the body without causing further harm.” Upon hearing Oracle’s analysis, Bruce hummed.

“Is she gonna be okay?”

“Trials have shown that a side effect of the vaccine is that test subjects maintain some kind of ferromagnetic property. The animals they were testing were fairly small, so the magnetism wasn’t strong, but the researchers at STAR Labs believe that the strength of magnetism is proportional to the bodily volume of the subject.”

“Magnetic, huh?” Bruce and Alfred left for the Batcomputer while Jason remained by your bedside. Your breathing was unhurried and uninterrupted, and your expression was peaceful. Your respirator was forgotten somewhere in Jason’s borrowed car, and he had helped Alfred peel you out of your coveralls and secure you in one of the beds in the Batcave’s medbay. Watching over you, he noticed how much you had changed in the ten years that you were apart—you had changed your hairstyle, which had become disheveled from your escape in LA, and it made you look more mature. The circles under your eyes had darkened over the years, no doubt from all of the late nights you had studied until exhaustion. He felt a pang of something deep and sentimental—was it nostalgia?—when he caught sight of your beauty marks, right where he remembered them.

Knowing that you were stable reassured him slightly. Still, he couldn’t imagine the battle your body was fighting against the Polestar virus.

Then, you stirred. The tempo of the bedside monitor’s beeps started to climb.

“No, wait—” Bruce and Alfred rushed through the sliding doors of the medbay. Your heart rate continued to climb. Jason stared in shock as he saw the blackened veins underneath your skin begin to recede. “What’s going on?”

“We’ll run a diagnostic. Oracle—” Bruce was tapping away at a terminal in the medbay, attempting to analyze your vitals. 

“Cave, there seems to be an unusual reading coming from your location.” Bewildered, Jason glanced around. His gaze settled on some medical instrument—a handheld scanner of some kind—quivering atop the medbay counter. 

“Could it be…magnetism?” He picked up the scanner and examined it. The body of the tool seemed to be made primarily of steel. He stepped closer to your bedside and felt the tug of magnetism in his hand as he held the scanner closer to you. 

“Oracle, you were right. I think this virus is turning Y/N magnetic.” Bruce muttered. More and more of the steel equipment in the medbay seemed to be experiencing your magnetic pull. Meanwhile, your heart rate kept rising; one hundred and twenty, one hundred and thirty, one hundred and forty—

“We have to wake her up somehow!” Jason exclaimed. The metal machinery and structures around you groaned, straining under the pull of your magnetic field. Jason himself, covered in armor and weaponry made with magnetic alloys, felt himself being dragged towards you until the railings of the bed dug into his stomach. “She’s gonna die if this doesn’t stop!” 

“I’m searching for a way, Hood, stand by.” One hundred and fifty, one hundred and sixty beats per minute—

“Jason…” The very room seemed to shake. Then, as if an invisible fist had just released its crushing grip on the room, everything shuddered to a stop. The magnetic pull on Jason was released and he stumbled away from the hospital bed, stunned. The beep of the bedside heart monitor began to slow. “Jason, is that you?” Jason’s helmet clattered to the ground.

“It’s me, Y/N. It’s really me.” Your eyes fluttered open, and they were wet with tears. Jason tore off his domino mask and reached out to caress your face, wiping the tears that rolled down your cheeks. “I’ve got you.”

“Jason!” You cried out, shooting up to throw your arms around his neck. “Jason, I thought you were dead!” 

“Y/N…” 

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!” You shouted, pushing him back suddenly. “Jason Peter Todd, where the FUCK have you been? I spent YEARS mourning you, grieving for a part of me that I would never get back, and—” Your words dissolved into sobs, and you let Jason take you into his arms. “A-and now you’re back…”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I have a lot to explain.” 

“No, we have a lot to explain.” Bruce chimed in. “Y/N, I think you should know the truth about how Jason died.”

Wayne Manor

3:33:24 AM ET

Before he let Bruce and Jason explain everything to you, Alfred insisted on taking you up to the Manor to help you decompress and process events of the past few hours. When Alfred first pushed you out of the medbay in a wheelchair, you were astonished by the majestic sight of the Batcave—a place you thought to have existed only in urban myth. The very air seemed to hum with activity; you heard the distant chatter of various radio feeds; your skin was bathed in the cold glow of dozens of screens and electronics. The Bats’ job, it seemed, was never done. Twenty-four seven, there was always a threat to be addressed or a case to be investigated, and the Batcave was the beating heart, the nerve center, from which the Bats’ network emanated. You watched on with amazement, pride even, for the protectors of Gotham City—then, your blood ran cold as you considered what your presence in the Batcave implied about Jason and Bruce.

Sitting on the bed in a guest room on one of the upper floors of Wayne Manor, you rubbed your thumb along the rim of the glass of water in your hand. Your hands had become blackened by the virus, giving them a metallic sheen and feel. Thankfully, the vaccine seemed to have neutralized the virus; you no longer felt as if the virus was leaching out your vigor and the distended veins it had once pulsed through had just about returned to normal. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was the nature of your extremities—your hands and legs were utterly transformed up until your elbows and knees. You flexed your fingers experimentally and rubbed the pads of your fingers together. Your skin wasn’t quite like quicksilver—rather, it was a mysterious fabric, maintaining the flexibility, elasticity, and grippiness of normal human skin while glittering with the strength and resilience of metal. You clapped your hands; they sounded normal. You set your glass on the bedside table and swiftly knocked your knuckles on your glass, and it sang as if you had struck it with the handle of a spoon. 

The sound of someone knocking on the bedroom door drew you away from your experiments. You sat up, gathering the covers over yourself. Alfred had kindly offered you a change of comfortable sleepwear in exchange for the clothes you had been wearing under your PPE. 

“Come in,” You called out. Bruce entered, Jason trailing him. He had showered and changed out of his Red Hood armor. To you, he looked more youthful, dressed in a t-shirt and basketball shorts. He was beginning to remind you more and more of his teenage self. 

“Y/N. Are you comfortable?” Bruce asked.

“Yes,” You replied calmly.

“Are your…hands bothering you at all?”

“Not at all, actually. I was trying some things out, and—” You repeated your tests for the two, clapping your hands and then rapping your knuckles on your glass. “—I’ve had some interesting results.”

“Fascinating,” Bruce replied. “We’ll have to examine those further in the morning.” He took a seat in the armchair next to your bed, while Jason sat down on the bed, his weight sinking into the mattress and pulling the sheets with him. 

“I understand if it’s difficult for you to accept that after all of these years, Jason is alive,” Bruce began. “But there are some things we didn’t tell you.” 

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that I was Robin,” Jason answered. 

“It’s true,” Bruce affirmed. “I was—I am Batman. And he was Robin, my protégé. It’s one of the reasons why I adopted him.” He and Jason watched your expression as it turned from surprise to quiet acceptance.

“I see,” You murmured. “And Jason was in Sarajevo that night because…”

“The Joker captured my birth mother. He coerced her into baiting me into this warehouse, and—” Seeing Jason tense up, you reached out tentatively to run your fingers over his clenched fist. His shoulders relaxed, and he covered your hand with his.

“I’m sorry, Jason. You didn’t deserve to be deceived like that.”

“The Joker beat Jason to death and detonated the warehouse with him in it,” Bruce continued, his voice taut. His expression shadowed the one you saw on him the first day you visited Jason’s grave. “Jason died that night; that much is true. But something happened. Somebody stole Jason’s body and replaced it with a double when I went to recover his remains from Bosnia. They resurrected him, and he found his way back to Gotham.”

“Who was it?” You inquired.

“Ra’s Al Ghul, the Demon’s Head. I spent a few years training under his daughter, Talia Al Ghul, before returning to Gotham.” Jason’s expression darkened. “I was a different person then. I did despicable things…I hurt people.” Your metallic skin felt cool under his hands as his grasp tightened. “Back at Gotham Academy, we used to talk about the ways we could help people when we grew up. I…I feel like I broke that promise, Y/N. I’m a criminal and a vigilante. There’s so much blood on my hands.” You opened your mouth but made no motion to speak as you processed Jason’s words.

“I don’t know what Ra’s and Talia did to you. But the fact that you’re still here, still you , still healing after everything that has happened…I know I’m still struggling to come to terms with you coming back and everything you did after the fact. But I want to make up for all of the time we’ve lost. I want to be here with you, now.” Your voice quivered a little as you fought back tears. Impulsively, you slipped your hands from his and put your arms around him. You felt him tense up for a moment before relaxing into your touch—you figured he wasn’t used to your arms around him after all this time.

“I’m going to give you two some space,” Bruce announced. “You both should get some sleep.” After Bruce had shut the door behind him, you met Jason’s gaze. 

“After you came back…did you ever look for me?” You asked him, wiping stray tears from your face with the back of your hand. The texture of your skin felt odd against your cheek.

“It wasn’t hard to find your name in the scientific journals.” Jason responded with a sigh. “After Bruce took me back, he told me what you’d done after I died.”

“He funded my education. I attended Yale on his foundation’s scholarship. He supported me through grad school, too.” 

“I guess I never got to say how proud of you I am.” A small smile made its way onto Jason’s face. “I’ve met so many so-called geniuses, heroes and villains and otherwise, but the truly brilliant ones didn’t settle for their perceived intelligence. I’ll always respect you for working so hard to prove that you were more than just your intellect.”

“You know, we never got to graduate high school together,” You murmured. “I wish we could’ve. I would’ve settled for the Yale commencement, or even UCLA. Graduating from Gotham Academy felt so different without you there with me.” You shook your head. “Well, I know it would’ve been a long shot, anyways.”

“I wanted to be there for all of your achievements, but…”

“But you were an internationally wanted criminal,” You finished.

“Y’know, I tried.” Jason chuckled. “I don’t think you noticed me, though.”

“Wait.” Your eyes widened. “Brussels. You were there?” Jason’s expression turned sheepish.

“Yeah. I dyed the white streak out of my hair and got a fake ID and everything. I wasn’t expecting you to recognize me.”

“I had no idea…” You breathed. “That was my first ever biotech conference. You went to see my presentation?”

“Yeah,” Jason grinned. “You were amazing.” 

“And to think I didn’t even realize it was you…” And to think I went back to my hotel room and cried myself to sleep, thinking that your image had never stopped haunting me. You yawned, feeling your energy waning after your eventful night. “It’s late…I’m tired.” You reclined back on the bed. Your exhausted body seemed to melt into the expensive mattress.

“Get some rest, Y/N. You’ve had a long night.” Jason stood, but in a flash of panic and desperation, you caught his wrist and held on as if he was about to disappear into smoke.

“How about…could you just stay with me? Please?” Jason flushed an unexpected hue of pink. You quickly let go of him, feeling your face heat up to an equivalent shade. “I–I mean…you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

“No, I, uh—” Jason fumbled with his words. “It’s okay. I’ll stay.” He flicked off the overhead light and returned to your bedside. Sighing contentedly, you sunk further into the mattress, which dipped under Jason’s weight as he climbed onto the bed beside you.

“The last time we did this we were in tenth grade,” You whispered. “We went ice skating in downtown Gotham and then I slept over at the Manor.”

“Y’know, Bruce let me skip patrol that night so I could go ice skating with you.”

“Oh, yeah? We were out until the skating rink closed. And we were in separate rooms in the Manor, but I came over to yours because I said mine was cold,” You added. “I lied about it being drafty.”

“I knew it. You were just bored.”

“I knew you knew, Jason. If you hadn’t wanted me there, you would have called for Alfred.”

“Okay, you got me. Just go to sleep.”

“Right away, sir.” You giggled into your pillow. “Goodnight, Jason Todd.” He chuckled softly, a low rumble that struck you right in your aching, mending heart.

“Goodnight.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[A/N]: aaaa hope you guys enjoyed this new chapter! I'm a little worried that it's too OC-ish for a reader insert - I had a lot of fun designing the MC's backstory since it's such a big part of her relationship with Jason. Yes, MC is a sort of STEM prodigy (which can mean a lot in the DC sense, but in this case, she's just really good at science trust me bro). I fussed a lot over continuity and age gaps (eek!) and ended up settling with Jason having skipped a grade and MC having skipped two so that they were 15 and 14 respectively and in their sophomore year when Jason died. That way, MC would graduate high school at 16 and college at 20 (I originally wrote her going to Gotham U but then switched it to Yale, which in certain comic continuities, is Bruce's alma mater, and also because I worried that Gotham U or another Gotham university would have too much of a reputation for producing PhDs who became deranged Batman rogues) and earn her UCLA doctorate (bc STAR Labs' infectious diseases lab is in LA for some reason, thanks fandom wiki) at the astonishing age of 24 (or 25). That leaves time for a few months of work on the Polestar program straight out of grad school and for Jason to train/be brainwashed by the League of Shadows, become Red Hood, and do a bunch of other stuff first (like form the Outlaws). I worried that Jason and MC being 27-28 or older just wouldn't jive with the story or the relative ages of other characters, like Bruce or Dick. It doesn't help that Jason is apparently canonically 19 in the Wayne Family Adventures webcomic (have you even seen him in that comic?! That man is 21 at least. No way he's under twenty years of age...or maybe I'm just a terrible judge of biological age). Thanks for putting up with my deranged rambling! This was a pretty dialogue heavy chapter, which I'm not really used to writing. That being said, I hope you enjoyed reading, until next time! x

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

See You Again taglist:

@witchymomfrien

If you would like to join the taglist for this fic, @ me in the replies!

[andraaste]

I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction bonus chapter

New bonus chapter ! This one happens between chapters 25 and 26, but not only 🤭

BONUS CHAPTER (25.2) : Where do you know this lullaby from ?

Ashkore

For at least an hour I had listened to the wood of the walls of my cabin creak with each blow of the waves against the liner in an unbearable sound, this one weak enough to make me prick up my ears but so persistent that I had to use all my self control not to tear off the slats that covered them with my own hands.

And the Oracle knew I didn't have many.

Despite everything, I knew very well that if I had been clinging to this damn noise for such long minutes, it wasn't just out of pure masochism : this infernal sound was preventing me from drifting in the maze of my mind, and it was pitiful to see. Sitting on the edge of what served as my spare bed, my eyes remained resolutely fixed on my clenched fingers as I tried to stop the almost invisible - but nevertheless very present - tremors that shook them. In this bent position, legs apart, I had to offer a very pathetic sight to see.

With a sharp movement, but unfortunately not as assured as I would have liked, I took off my black gloves with the red symbols and threw them angrily on the dirty floor. I knew perfectly well what was going to happen. My old friend the anguish, even more treacherous and devious than me, had once again decided not to let me breathe, clearing her way with malicious pleasure into the hollow of my entrails.

Rising above me like a bad shadow, she wrapped her large hands, these even colder than my own ice, before coming to tighten them on me.

As always, my breath caught in my throat.

In a fit of panic, I dug my elbows hard into my thigh muscles as I curled into myself, probably offering a delectable view of my pitiful self as my fingers tangled frantically in my hair. Eyes wide, I tugged at my collar in the vain hope of freeing myself from its stranglehold, my ribcage swelling so frantically it was maddening.

But suddenly, a shy sound, muffled by the thickness of the wood, monopolized all my attention ; much more melodious than the previous one. Blocking the little air that was struggling to rush into my chest, the sound of my labored breathing suddenly stopped polluting my ears.

Before leaving me speechless.

« - Junyn dragon, úvaenu nah vauel »

My body felt like six tons when my arms almost let go, making me bend so close to my shoes that for a moment, I thought I had a weight on my back.

« - Meym mo payr key nu zeywu opuv waevuel »

It was not possible.

How the hell could she know that lullaby ?!

Hastily, I straightened up from the hard mattress with a dull crunch. Opening my door on the sly, I had only two big steps to take before finding myself in front of hers.

« - My cogoym ne julwm nah vbugyh »

Stop !

I didn't think for a second before turning the handle, rushing into what came closest to a semblance of personal space for her.

The voice dies immediately.

Instead, I came across two large purple eyes that flickered as they watched me, a delicate pink mouth forming an expression of surprise.

- Where... I started without continuing.

Damn, why couldn't I find my words ?

Surely realizing who it was, the young woman then looked at me with fear, her long eyelashes preventing me from detecting the semblance of curiosity that animated her.

She still waited patiently for me to finish my sentence, remaining in the same position in which I had surprised her : squatting in front of an old device that faeries had brought back from a mission on Earth. Time dragged on for a long time before I managed to regain my composure.

- Where do you know this lullaby from ?

Under my question and my inquisitive gaze, bordering on disapproving, the brunette blinked several times before finally understanding.

- It doesn't concern you, she said to me in a categorical tone.

I remained dumbfounded.

Sorry ?

Feeling the anger welling up inside me, I gripped her wrist tightly to force her to face me, putting more force into it than I wanted to.

- Don't you dare play that with me, little human, I won't repeat it. Where do you know this lullaby from ?!

Under the skin of her usually pallid face, I could make out the muscles in her jaw twitching as her cheeks gradually took on a rosy hue, probably as a result of the anger I also sensed rising in her.

- If you want to know it so much, it's Valkyon who taught it to me. He hums it often, mind you.

My blood only boiled. I should have guessed. As if this information had just burned me, I released it with a nimble gesture, causing her to fall back at the same time.

Like a perfect idiot, I couldn't help catching her abruptly, planting my hand between her loins. Once again stabilized on her feet, she pushed me roughly.

I acted like I hadn't noticed anything.

- Never sing it again.

Obviously not expecting this order, she jerked her head up in my direction, making me realize how much I was towering over her.

- I beg your pardon ?

It was my turn to grit my teeth. Why was she constantly trying to stand up to me ? Yet she knew full well that I could shorten her days with a simple snap of my fingers. She was so fragile.

Did humans have no survival instinct ?

This infuriated me.

- I'm telling you never to sing it again, I growled louder. Damn, are you deaf or are you doing it on purpose ?

Her cheeks flushed much more brightly, so much so that I wondered if she was angry or just hot.

- So I no longer have the right to anything here ? she suddenly lost her temper, taking me by surprise. You kidnap me, force me to follow you, hold me against a post, and now that I have the right to a modicum of privacy, you allow yourself to come in here and tell me to stop singing ?

It was obviously not the heat.

Unexpectedly, two hands with long thin fingers, bordering on graceful, pressed hard against my chest, causing me to take a step back in my astonishment. Not expecting me to back away, I saw a hint of surprise in her uniquely colored irises.

A mocking smile tugged my lips. If she wanted to play that...

Taking a liking to this new challenge, I leaned dangerously over her to wrap my fingers in one of her silky locks, whispering to her at the same time in a languorous voice :

- Even if I must admit that you're downright exciting when you get angry, I must warn you never to speak to me like that again, at the risk of having to crush this magnificent face under my feet as soon as I have any not needed anymore.

I savored for a last moment the feeling of fear that would run down her spine, and perhaps also the sweet smell of her skin so close to my lips, then straightened up quickly. Amused by this little nocturnal interview, I gave her a crooked smile before turning on my heels, slamming the door without even looking back.

Despite my threats, this idiot had resumed singing that damn lullaby every night that followed. And, although I'll never admit it, I listened to her every night, arms folded behind my head. By I don't know what magic, I think that Andraste's reassuring voice had ended up chasing away my precious friend's anguish, because as long as she tirelessly hummed these words that I had so far forgotten, she never came back see me.

This girl definitely had her own way.

But I think that's what I admired most about her.

*

Lance

I will never admit to Andraste that I watched her for such long minutes while she slept, she would most certainly be afraid if she found out and I couldn't blame her.

Because it was downright creepy.

Still, I couldn't get my eyes off her face, even with all the will in the world. Raising my fingers to her, I hesitated for a moment before carefully pushing back a dark lock that I brought behind her shoulder.

Her skin was so pale next to mine.

Lately, I've been reliving a lot of my memories in dreams. Memories that my memory had erased on its own, probably trying to make acceptable the idea that a monster like me could still be alive.

Many times, these reminiscences were harmless, but sometimes they were so vivid and realistic that I lost my breath again. But, this one... I couldn't help wondering if Andraste remembered that lullaby.

Because, coming out of her mouth, it was undeniably one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard.

Leaning over her, I kissed her temple lazily before pulling my arm back and standing up.

A lot of work awaited me.

(Chapter 26)

[starsfic]

Of Thrones Inherited, Chapter 1: Evidence

Summary: After weeks of attempts on Hunter's life and attempts to prove he is guilty of treason, Kikimora finally gains evidence. However, the resulting confrontation reveals that Belos is the opposite of angry.

Instead, he's rather pleased. For this aligns with the plans he has for the Boiling Isles.

Faced with no other options in order to have her own plans, Kikimora decides to take the weaker half of the duo out.

Notes: Inspired by this fic and this fic.

-_-

Weeks.

It had been weeks since the first attempt on the Golden Guard’s life. It had been weeks since Kikimora had started to suspect him of treason.

However, all her attempts to either kill or show the Emperor had met with failure from the meddlings of one Luz Noceda.

Her interruptions left Kikimora unable to give any evidence of Hunter’s treason to the Emperor. And it was well-known that the emperor did not take any accusations towards his nephew lightly.

But this time, Kikimora would give.

She watched the scene in her crystal ball. The Oracle magic she funneled into it provided a picture of her latest attempt.

Hunter was battling against a leviathan, a sister species to her missing hand dragon pet. She had made sure earlier to provoke it so it would interrupt the agent’s travels towards Kossary, forcing away any other coven members and forcing him to face it alone. On-ball, she watched as its tail spun out, striking him in the chest and sending him flying. When he hit the ground, his mask fell off and she could faintly see his wheeze in pain.

And then flames exploded against its face.

The human was here.

Kikimora watched as Noceda took advantage of the leviathan’s distraction to jump off the Owl Lady’s staff and hurry towards Hunter. She zoomed in as she helped him up. Unfortunately, the spy she was using to capture the scene failed to allow audio, but the sight of the fond smiles they flashed at each other and Hunter’s clear comfort as he leaned on her was enough.

Together, the two launched into battle against the creäture, Noceda dual-wielding the Owl Lady’s staff and some sort of cardinal palisman. Kikimora’s smile hid under her collar as the ball picked up on the clear ease the two had to fight together. At one point, Hunter even tossed Noceda his staff, allowing her to light several fire glyphs.

Eventually, the two seemed to have made some sort of plan. Noceda ran off as Hunter continued to fire blasts at the large creäture before turning and running. The ball refocused to show Noceda waving at the edge of a cliff. Hunter reached her and she grabbed his hand, pulling him out-of-the-way of the leviathan, over what must’ve been a glyph as it glowed blue.

The next moment, a large chunk of ice shot the leviathan into the sky.

Kikimora stopped the crystal ball right as Noceda pulled Hunter into a hug. Her smile grew, wide enough that it peeked over her collar.

She had her proof.

-_-

"The emperor requests your presence in the throne room."

Normally, this was a good thing. His uncle had a new task for him. Or he wanted to spend some time tinkering together, something they had done less and less of as the curse grew. But dread curled in Hunter's stomach at the positively gleeful way Kikimora said it. She sounded like she was expecting an execution.

Maybe she was.

His uncle had sent him to Kossary to make sure the Blights were doing their order in the plant they had there. Of course, the leviathan had slowed him down, and when he and Luz

What if it was about Luz?

...what if he had found out about Rascal?

Dread curled through him as he walked through the halls of the palace. Kikimora walked in front of him, an unbearably smug aura radiating off her. Finally, the doors to the throne room were in front of them.

They creaked open, revealing his uncle, sitting on his throne. There were no signs of the curse acting up. But there were also no guards. Hunter stepped inside and the doors swung shut. He glanced back to see Kikimora’s smile peek out…

And then he was alone with Emperor Belos.

Hunter strode forward, kneeling once he was at the proper place. He glared at the floor, feeling his heart race. “Uncle,” he said, hoping the panic wasn’t infecting his voice. “How may I serve you?”

“Kikimora’s told me something interesting, Hunter.” He stiffened, feeling his spine ache. “She told me that you have been… socializing with the human.” Footsteps. “Luz Noceda.” He flinched at her full name. “That she has been helping you and you have been helping her.” A hand rested on his head. “Is this true?”

Silence.

“Hunter.”

Tears pricked at his eyes.

“Tell me the truth…”

“Yes,” he admitted. The word was weak. “I have.” He knew engaging with the human was treason. His uncle hated the human for outsmarting him, destroying the door, and wielding wild magic. He would disown him, cast him out…

The fingers in his hair slowly started to run through his hair. “Very good.”

Hunter froze.

...what?

“What?”

“I have plans for the human,” Belos said, clear warmth in his voice. “Plans that involve the fate of the Boiling Isles.”

Hunter dared to look up.

“And your actions have proven I have made the right choice.”

[takaraphoenix]

WIP Tag Game

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs (or as many peeps as you want, really- ‘tis just for fun!) 

Been tagged by @justonemorechapternicercy​ ...and before that too, I know I glanced at it half-asleep not thaaat long ago, I apologize to whoever tagged me I am bad at keeping track of notifications I get past midnight xD”

Oookay, let’s sort ‘em by fandom though to make it a bit more organized! (Also so I can save myself from typing out the “OS - [fandom] -” parts of every title...)

DCMK:

KaiShin - The White Collar Phantom Thief

KaiShin - Detectives-in-Law

SaguShin - Time Ticks True

KaiShin - Meeting the Professor

AkaiShin - Oceanside Omega II

KaiShin - Role Reversal Rivalry

SaguShin - ABOverse

Shadowhunters:

Malace - Demon On Your Shoulder

Jalec Bingo: safe sex

Jalec Bingo: makeup sex

Jalec Bingo: pain play

Jalec Bingo: free space

Jalec Bingo: TWI AU

Jalec Bingo: meet cute

Jalec Bingo: cursed item

Jimonael - A Union For Peace

Malace - Sex Club Escapades - Bingo

Jalec - In the Wings of His Love - Bingo

Baiace - TAoJH - The Prince and the Spies

Heronlightstar - TAoJH - Alec’s Angel and Demon

Jeliornathan - TAoJH - The Dark Seelie Knight

Malace - The White Winged Warlock

Saiace - TAoJH

Velondalewood - TAoJH

Heronbanelightstar - TAoJH - A Suburban Nightmare

Reyhillbanewoodale - TAoJH

Jagnus - The High Warlock and the Herondale Heir

Japhael - The Light of His (After)Life

Jeliorn - The Royal Consort of the Seelie King

Jordace - TAoJH

Jorenzo - TAoJH

Velondale - Ice, Ice, Baby

Verlace - TAoJH

PJatO:

Jercico - The Legacy of the Big Three

Jacksolangelo - Three Is Not a Crowd

Jacksolangelo - Healing the Heart

Minorcy - aMAZEing Encounter

Tritollorcy - TAoPJ - Hail Apollo, Defender of the Sea

Chircy - TAoPJ - The Centaur’s Perfect Brood Mare

Tartarcy - TAoPJ - Consumed By Darkness

[too lazy to type em out but basically a document for a Tritercy fic with every single song title from the Little Mermaid animated series]

DC Comics:

Olicity - Green Arrow and Batgirl

The Flash: Legacy of a Speedster

Birds of Prey Present: Siren’s Song

The Flash: Rogue City

Justice League: Gods of Olympus

Birds of Prey Present: The Last Laugh

Batman & Robin: The Last (K)Night

Birds of Prey Present: Canaries’ Cry

Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow

Batwoman; Into Wonderland

Teen Titans: Rise of the Titans

Batwoman & the Supergirls

Birds of Prey: Oracle’s Vision

Green Arrow: Tales From the Quiver

Other Fandoms (most of these aside from KUWtS are teetering around the edge of abandoned, though I keep the files because I DO want to write/finish them one day):

BtVS - Spuffy - Keeping Up With the Scoobies

Jungle Book Zootopia - Sheregheera - Life in the Big City

Jungle Book - Sheregheera - Walt’s Zoo

HTTYD RotG - HiJack - Heroes of the Solar System

Merlin - Merwaine - Defying Destiny

Musketeers - OT4 - The Inseparables’ Omega

Crossovers:

Shadowhunters & Lucifer - Heronstar - Hell to Pay

Shadowhunters & PJO - Jacksangelondale - TAoJH - An Angel for the Demigods

Shadowhunters & Teen Wolf - Sterek - The Beacon Hills Institute

Taaaggging uuuh honestly, anyone who wants to do it, feel tagged by me!

[border-spam]

Leech Lord - Frost

They had an unspoken agreement, Ven and Troy.

Had for a long time, back since he'd taken The Oracle as an aide to that sponsorship meeting on Vigil-5.

A full night cycle travelling subspace in a ship escort had eased both of them into really talking. Well, that and the 30+ cocktails they must have managed on Maliwan's tab. The vessel was fully catered after all, would have been stupid to waste the gesture.

Troy had asked after months of rolling the question around the back of his mind, if Ven would tell him when deaths were close. Not for him of course, he knew it didn't work that way and whatever magical alien bullshit fueled the other man’s “unique” outlook swam into confused blurs if he focused on Siren markings in future threads, but for other people. People that mattered. Jak-Knife. Seifa... he'd tell him, right? He knew, right? Had looked ahead for everyone?

Ven winced back his 8th martini and stared into the glass like it might answer in his stead if he could bribe it with another shot of disgustingly overpriced spirits. First time Troy had ever seen the man squirm.

"...Yeah boss, I look. Tell myself I won't every time I meet someone new, but." he'd reached to refill his drink as he slumped back further into the transport ship's luxury armchair, just pure gin this time though - no room in his stomach to waste on mixers.

"...But I always do."

He swallowed the shake in his voice before he continued, eyes heavy as he refused to part them from the glass he nursed gently side to side.

"Can't not. How could I, if s-something happened to them and I could have stopped it and didn’t? Nahhhh."

The shot slipped down his throat in one smooth pour, and Troy had smirked at how much practice that must have taken as he rolled his own drink slowly in claws that left scratches across the crystal tumbler.

"But big guy, I can't tell you. I can't tell anyone, it's not how it works...  cause soon as I tell someone? It changes. The act of telling them changes the outcome, does that make s-sense? It's like... I'll see one thread clear, but soon as I make it real, soon as I put it into words? It's gone. They slip onto another and sometimes it's worse, even harder to avoid.” a discolored human finger jabbed accusingly in Troy’s direction from under the ridge of the Eridian arm’s hand shield. 

“The deal of uh.. the deal of speaking this shit. Sometimes t-that's enough to wipe it from existence completely." he finished with a wobble to that caramel smooth voice, shrinking back into the lavish chair and gesturing sloppily at the Maliwan branded service droid that had eagerly scuttled over with yet another bottle.

God-King Calypso nodded sagely, as if he had the slightest clue what Ven was talking about. He didn't. That wasn’t possible for someone who lived life moving in one direction. 

Ven's view of time was warped beyond what a human mind should be able to handle, and Troy knew there were times he couldn't. Where Eli would find him staring at nothing, muttering quietly to himself for hours as he got lost in the now and the then - stumbling through versions of reality that never happened and never would but were real in every way to his mind. He wouldn't wish that shit on anyone. He wouldn't wish it on someone he hated.

An unspoken agreement there and then, that Ven wouldn't tell, but he'd advise. He'd do his job. Troy wouldn't ask more of him. A friend shouldn't suffer to ease his nightmares.

Today was one of those days, a quick e-comm message in the early AM subtle enough for Troy to grasp without breaking their agreement.

Not today, boss. Keep them home.

So he had.

Jak-Knife's position at the head of the scheduled escort into Three Horns was cancelled, and Calypso had reissued them into training. They wouldn't question the change, they never did, and he wondered as he pulled the fur of his coat closer around his shoulders and shivered, if they knew too.

The barracks were so eerie this late into the night.

Elpis was just beginning to rise and frost still coating the grime of the Holy City like crushed diamond glinting in the flickering neon lights. It crunched under his boots as he quietly walked through the compound, breath billowing around his head in curling halos of steam that evaporated into the darkness.

All still asleep, cocooned in the Crusader barracks among clan and family. All bar God King Calypso, wrapped in a coat not thick enough to stop the bitter chill of the morning’s approach from creeping into his chest through the steel of his prosthetic's bracer.

He scuffed at a blood smear in the brick under his feet, dappled with twinkling ice.

Might be his.

He wondered if JK knew about these decisions, the unspoken agreement with Ven. They'd be angry, maybe. Was he robbing some great death in glory from them? Was he denying something sacred to Bandits that he didn't grasp right?

The same way he couldn't comprehend why there were graves of fallen Paladins so close by - lovingly tended to and decorated with trinkets they'd carried in life when he knew Bandits saw meat as only temporary and believed the soul carried on through belongings. The same way he didn't understand how a face worn as a mask could be someone else's, or a weapon scream with the war-cry of hundreds when it fired.

Did JK know what it meant when there was a sudden shift in their schedule on days they had been steeled for war?

Did they know he saw the way their shoulders would tense and nails would bite into their palm in frustration they couldn't put into words after a night of laughter and jokes with their marauders? 

Troy understood that all too well - the primal need to show you were powerful to people you knew loved you and who's words hadn't been designed to hurt, that sometimes you needed to remind the world you weren't soft in that way you worried it had begun to think you were, the bad way. That you could crunch bone and rip flesh with a body you could show gentleness with too. 

He understood that, the two sides of Jak-Knife that mirrored his own. The human and the other.

Did they know how often he let them win when he'd grapple with them in this arena on those days? Surrounded by ecstatic Crusaders lost in chants and battle cries as he'd hold back, leave openings, make mistakes, watch JK remind their warriors and themself of their physical threat as he fell, then take their offered hand when he lay panting through a bloodied split lip on that rough brick. Let them haul him to his feet with a slap of thanks to the meat of his shoulder and a distorted grunt through their mask that he knew meant so much.

He knew they let him win some days too.

On his bad days...

He sniffed, nose numb and red as the fur of his collar tickled it, shivering quietly in the thin light. Maybe that was his blood, maybe it was JK's.

Maybe really, there was no difference.

Troy breathed out a wave of foggy steam he’d not realised had been held in his lungs for so long - thinking. He needed to get back to the Cathedral, the world around him was starting to wake and he wasn't in the mood to wear his Godhood right now. He was too tired, and it was too heavy.

Not today, boss.

He turned and began to walk towards the compound gates, shifting his coat higher around his shoulders again. If Seifa was here he’d...

No. She wasn’t. Hadn’t been a long time now. Maybe Ven was still awake.

Impossible to stay cold around that man.

Ven belongs to @hieroglyphix​ , and JK to @godkingsanointed​

Asks are open!

[darkmagicattack]

@youtriggeredmytrapcard​ said: Ice cream meme: Cookies and Cream and Tuxedo Strawberry? Headcanon Meme: Ice Cream Flavors Edition

Cookies and Cream: a family headcanon.

AIGHT, buckle up. Time to get deep. Mahad’s parents were busy folks and they were often on the run, which left Mahad to fend for himself. Now, they weren’t bad parents as they raised him well and did their best to tend to his needs and teach him how to be a good kiddo. However, as he grew older (6-7 years old and up), they weren’t focusing on him as much. It’s almost as though all that parental love and care slowly started to fade away. They still loved him but since he’s nearing ten years old, they assumed he should learn to take things in his own hands and see how it is to be in the open world where not everything is as fair as it is when you’re home where you’re safe. Mahad didn’t have any companions at that time, so everything just seemed all too lonesome for a tiny kiddo. And he missed the protection and affection of his parents. He would think that this was normal as he is no longer a baby that requires loads of attention. But it didn’t help as he was pretty much absorbed into loneliness. So when he was around thirteen, he got to meet Atem (7 years old) and teeny Mana. (4 years old). Eventually they became friends. Mahad just then had started to feel like he’s not all too useful to his parents as well no matter how much he’d been training for the oracle position. He’s also been practicing his magic at that time. And when he was bitten by a snake, IF there was no one there to help he would have accepted his fate. BUT when Atem took action and saved him from the poison, Mahad felt that someone actually cares for him, deems him as worthy, and wants him by their side (Atem’s words). That is where he had sworn since that day that he would protect Atem no matter the risks, devoting everything to him. That in a way projects him missing the guardship of his parents, thus he instead chooses to guard Atem. Normally, one would expect that he turns cold or bitter from lack of love and care. But for Mahad, he doesn’t want anyone else to feel that way, so he projects the same thing towards others. It comes as an instinct to protect and be there when someone needs him the most. (Because his parents weren’t when he needed them) He’d also slowly began losing contact with his parents to the point that he didn’t know where they were and how they were. It remained that way until the end. He also began knowing his worth, getting a confidence boost as he became the Priest, the most powerful magician, and head of security of the Palace.

Tuxedo Strawberry: a well-dressed headcanon (any headcanon about clothes).

Mahad is laid-back about clothes. And so is Dark Magician (I mean he is stuck wearing only that armor). But he is quite fond of the white cloth + gold fashion. If Dark Magician were to choose his clothes, his aesthetic would remain purple but he would try different fashions. Hoodies would definitely be one of his favorites, and skinny jeans oR some random tight pants w/e (sneakers with jeans and boots with any other pants that mUST always be firmly around his leg). He also likes the goth/punk look, so he might invest in it as well. He is mostly fond of rings and finger accessories (e.g. claw rings which would look great if paired with the armor). He’d pass on collars (unless it’s the gold neck rings then that’s fine). Arm rings are fine. Necklaces are tricky, he probably won’t wear them because he would be too active (he’s fast and might move rapidly if he were to dodge attacks) and they would be bouncing on his chest. That’s gotta be annoying. He wants to try suits as well. Stylish, gothic black lurex and purple suit would be what he’d like himself in the most. Skulls… lots of skulls. Skull tie clip, skull-shaped buckle on a leather belt, and probably on the heel of the leather Oxfords. Combine it with the rings and it’s going to be perfect.

[ashveil-archives]

𝐂𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐬 𝐕𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐬 ; The Velvet Bond

"Do you wish to command me, my lord… or simply keep me caged in silk and gold?"

Alias: the moonbound servant | velvet clairvoyant | gold behind the veil

Race: Moon Elf (Astral Lineage)

Age: Appears early 20s — true age unknown

Pronouns: He/him

Alignment: Lawful Obedient (with sinful leanings)

Occupation: Royal concubine | Occult medium | Court shadow

💋 Physical Description

Height: 5'11"

Build: Lithe, toned, soft-skinned — scars hidden in intimate places

Hair: Platinum-blonde, often braided delicately by others

Eyes: Liquid gold, ember-flecked

Outfit: sheer onyx clothing that has a large opening to show his body underneath.

Other Features: His back is marked with arcane tattoos — flowing script and binding glyphs, only visible under moonlight or arousal.

💎 Personality

Outward: delicate yet eerily serene

Inward: secretly aches to be broken in, not broken

🌶 NSFW Notes

Orientation: Pansexual, with a strong appreciation for dominant lovers.

Kinks: Praise kink, Overstimulation, Restraints, Sensory deprivation, and Ownership kink.

🩸 Lore & Backstory

Once a gifted vessel in the temple of Selyra, Caelis was "rescued" (claimed) by Queen Lysanthe during a blood moon rite. He now serves Ashveil’s high court—his voice soft, steps silent, soul bound. His power is subtle and psychic, often employed in rituals or to whisper truths no one dares say aloud.

Worshipped. Touched. Owned.

Caelis wears nothing by accident: silks for sin, chokers for status, and the marks of his lieges like sacred ink. He knows your weaknesses. He dreams of being undone by them.

[akechicrimes]

Prompt 15 for ShuAke, please? (Your other answers are really really good, by the way.)

(aaaa THANK YOU yes of course!! also jsksjksjksjksjsj THIS PROMPT……. THANK YOU FOR THIS it was SO fun)

15. “Don’t tell me you’re fine, I can see the blood!”

akira has an adrenaline problem and is more reckless in sae’s casino that akechi expected. also akechi cares more about it than akechi expected.

***

The Thieves get overprotective of Joker in Sae’s casino, which is too bad, because it’s very big with many moving parts and it’s best for them to divide and conquer the place, which is how he explains it to them during a Thieves meeting that Akechi is not invited to. Also, when Joker splits them up into groups, Joker is sometimes paired up with only Crow.

The rest of the Thieves give each other unimpressed looks. “That’s… the opposite of reassuring,” Makoto says with a pained sigh.

“If anything happens, I’ll be fine. Plus, Futaba knows where I am at all times, and she can always reach me through the comms. I’ll say something if anything happens.”

Everyone gives each other such a significant look that Akira wonders if maybe the Thieves are having secret meetings that he isn’t invited to, either. But they don’t push him on it.

He asks Ryuji about it when everyone else has gone, Haru’s taken Morgana for the night, and it’s just the two of them in Akira’s attic. “We’re just… worried for you,” says Ryuji, scratching the back of his head. “The entire reason Akechi’s even here is to kill you, right? Guy’s a liar and probably a murderer and we don’t even know how dangerous he is. His Persona’s already crazy strong and Makoto thinks he’s got more tricks up his sleeve, too.”

Akira thought that through already. The probability is that Akechi can’t kill him until they’ve gotten to the end of the palace, and stolen Sae’s “heart” on the exact day that Akechi requested. On the other hand, it’s still just a probability. Maybe Akechi can kill him whenever he wants. “It’ll be fine,” says Akira.

“I mean, I know that,” says Ryuji, and sighs. “I guess… it’d be one thing if we just thought he might kill you the second we’re not lookin’, but I–I dunno. We were all worried ‘cause we thought that you kept pairing yourself up with Crow on purpose ‘cause you liked that he might…”

Ryuji trails away. “Uh, actually, never mind. Sounds dumb now that I say it aloud, honestly. Forget about it. See you tomorrow.”

“See you,” says Akira.

***

Akira Kurusu is a good boy, who lived in a good town, with a good family, with only good neighborhoods. There were never any bad neighborhoods to duck into and pick any fights with the wrong kind of people. There were never any bad bars to lose yourself in and make out with the wrong person. There were no criminals or thieves or so-called bad influences for a boy to get involved in.

Akira Kurusu is still a good boy. He lives in Tokyo now. He never finds himself so furious he can’t think, and he never heads to Mementos to punch shadows full of bullet holes, or (hopefully) get the shit kicked out of him. Akira Kurusu never scales the highest, tallest buildings in the Metaverse’s palaces, just to feel the ice-cold fear in his stomach hit him like a shot of vodka. Akira Kurusu never cuts it too close to the Palace deadline, just to feel the danger prickle on the back of his neck, or see the nervousness in his teammates’ eyes. He never makes an alliance with someone who doesn’t love him, just to wring some mutual benefit for the both of them like pulling blood from a stone.

Akira Kurusu never lurks on the school roof, or picks up shifts at Crossroads, or skulks in alleyways long after his bedtime, hoping for some douchebag to take a dislike to his face and give him a good reason to get some blood under his nails and feel alive for an hour. Whoever walks the Tokyo streets is some nameless, faceless specter, of no future and no past, to disappear when the sun rises. 

Akira Kurusu is a good boy who gets good grades and runs Sojiro’s coffee shop when Sojiro is out. His face is blank and impassive, and there’s definitely no grudges locked behind his teeth. He goes to school on time and answers all the questions right and speaks to no one. He doesn’t think about girls. He also doesn’t think about boys. 

Akira Kurusu is a good boy, who, one day at a TV station, met another good boy named Goro Akechi, who smiled politely and said all the right things, who never had a bad thought in his head or a fury in his throat. When Goro Akechi comes to set up camp in Leblanc, it is of course no problem, because Goro Akechi is a good boy who would never wait for hours just to see the whites of his prey’s eyes, and Akira Kurusu is a good boy who’s never done anything wrong, and never hungers for the sharp jolt of being pursued pressed like a blade against his neck. 

Because they are both two very good boys, it is never a threat when Goro Akechi smiles at him in the subway station, and Akira’s smile back to the quick heartbeat of adrenaline is never real.

***

Anyway, the next day a Ganesha throws Joker through a slot machine.

“Joker!” Crow is probably saying, although Joker can’t hear a whole lot while upside down and covered in casino chips and bits of machine parts. Joker appreciates the concern, though, considering that Joker’s just split up the group again, and it’s only Joker and Crow against this brick shithouse of an elephant god. When Joker springs back up, his coattails and bits of bloody chips go flying; his whole body is singing. Crow says, “Hamao–”

That’s Joker’s least favorite move. No fun when Crow’s Hamaons or Mudoons land right, and the shadow drops clean like a cut puppet, no blood, no mess, no struggle. “Hecantoncheires!” Joker interrupts, and feels another chunk of his life force get gouged out as payment for a Swift Strike. 

“Ganesha resists physical!” Crow snaps.

Joker pulls out his gun and unloads the whole clip and only stops when Crow kicks him out of the way of Ganesha’s angry swipe. “It’s weak to Psychokinesis, Joker! Finish this quickly!”

Trust Crow to have memorized all the shadows’ weaknesses. He sounds just like Queen does when Joker’s not taking it seriously enough for her. Joker pulls Kunishinada from his soul and casts a weak Psi, sweeping the shadow right off its massive feet to hit the ground with a floor-shaking crash. Joker pulls out his dagger. If Ganesha was going to beg or bargain, Joker’s not interested. He wants a good old-fashioned fight.

When Joker’s dagger slices through Ganesha’s fat stomach, Ganesha’s death throes slam a fist right into Joker’s back, crushing him and tearing Joker’s dagger straight through Ganesha’s body. Ganesha explodes into shadow dust and a shower of yen. 

When Joker stands back up, he can feel himself beaming like a maniac, and Crow seems to almost smile back just out of pure shock. And with the Ganesha gone, it’s just Joker and the last and only enemy that mattered in the middle of the casino floor, surrounded by the Sae’s machines chattering out numbers of the highest, highest stakes. Joker’s enemy is sizing Joker up in the wake of battle, examining the blood streaking down his face; Joker’s enemy is sweeping his body from head to toe with his dark red eyes, lingering at the cinch of Joker’s vest waist, the high collars. Joker’s enemy’s eyes are wide. 

“Gorgeous,” says Joker, and then collapses.

Crow’s over him in a second, but before he can say anything, Oracle’s voice comes over the line: “Joker? Your reading’s are a little wonky, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” says Joker. He sounds remarkably fine, actually, considering that his vision’s going a little grey.

“You’re not–”

Joker presses a finger to his own lips. Crow shuts up, his eyes glittering and rapt. “I’m fine,” says Joker again to Oracle. “It was just a skirmish with a shadow. Nothing big.”

“Uhhhhhh… Okay? You know where the safe room is if you need it? Noir’s not too far away if you need a hand, too.”

“Thanks, Oracle.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” says Oracle, which makes Crow’s lips purse for some reason. The line clicks off. 

“Don’t tell me you’re fine,” says Crow immediately. His voice is shaking.

“I am fine.”

“I can see the blood–!”

“That’s a flesh wound.”

“This is no time for jokes,” says Crow sharply.

“Worried?” asks Joker. His to-be murderer, fretting about death coming a little too soon for his tastes? Ah, his to-be murderer is tracing his gloved fingers by Joker’s exposed and open neck. 

Crow ignores him. “Robin Hood doesn’t know any healing spells. Can you heal yourself?”

“I’m out of magic.”

Crow looks like he’s trying very hard to be a good, straight-laced detective who doesn’t say “fuck” and also doesn’t panic. Crow is taking deep breaths, like he’s the one who go punched in the chest twice by a two-thousand pound elephant. “That was incredibly foolhardy of you.”

“It was just a bit of fun.”

“Pardon me for saying so, but what part about getting the shit kicked out of you was fun?”

Joker has the stupidest, goofiest smile on his face, he knows, because he’s half-drunk on all his wounds and, in his defense, there is a very pretty murderer with a sharp, sharp sword and gun that never misses staring down at him, their masks close enough to touch, Crow’s hands close enough to strangle him to death right there on the casino floor. Joker wants to see what would happen if Crow tried. “It’s not fun if it can’t at least kill you,” he says, more sincerely than he meant to. 

Crow’s throat works and swallows hard. His hands are tight around Joker’s chest. “I–think I have some medicine in my pocket,” he says suddenly, and tears his eyes away. It turns out that he actually does, surprisingly, in the form of one of Takemi’s pill packets and a crushed protein bar. Crow watches Joker carefully to make sure that Joker actually takes them both. He keeps watching everything Joker does, really, from the way Joker pulls the packet apart, to the tiny bites he takes, to his careful swallows. When Joker spits a wad of blood out to clear his throat, Crow stares at it like he’s never seen the color red before.

“Let’s go back to the others,” Crow says, when Joker’s finished regaining whatever strength he can. “We can hardly have the illustruous leader of the Phantom Thieves dying here.” And all the way back, Crow refuses to leave Joker’s side.

For Joker’s to-be murderer, Crow seems to care an awful lot about whether or not Joker lives or dies, Joker thinks. 

***

(i love procrastinating. send a prompt)

[leonthecardboardunicorn]

The Oracle Prince, Chapter 9

Pairing: Viggo/Liz

Summary: We’ve found the gems of the Dragonkin, but now Hawkeye has their eye on the treasures of the noble families. The Foundation Day royal ball seems like the perfect time. Luckily, we have the help of the crown prince- Viggo?!

First: Chapter One

Previous: Chapter Eight

"Your Majesty!" Daniel went pale as a ghost.

“Silence!” The king turned to his guards at once. “Inspect the passage. See if what he said is true. As for the rest of you, come to the throne room.”

I wasn't sure how long it was, waiting in the throne room, before the guard slipped in again. The king paced anxiously, and Daniel stood behind him.

“Well?”

“It is just as His Highness said. Many of the men we found were recognized criminals- members of the organization Hawkeye. And..” The king's guard paused, before he said, “And many have been recognized as Daniel's guards.”

“What?! How could this be? Hawkeye within our castle.”

"It's because they've had a man of the inside all of this time,” Viggo snarled. “Daniel's been working with them from the start!”

Your Majesty,” I said, “didn't you think it was weird that Daniel kept Viggo training so much? He must've known this would be the opportune moment to strike, when he would be at his most exhausted.”

Daniel went pale as a ghost. “Y-Your Majesty-”

“His desire was to bring destruction to Gedonelune,” Viggo cried, “using the six gems to tear us apart!”

"Y-Your Majesty!" Daniel cried.

"Enough!" He looked between us. "Tell me everything. From the start."

Finally, the truth came out. The king listened in silence as we told him about Cordelia, about the Dragonkin Ruins, about the attack in Queensblade, about the search for the gems within the court. Daniel stood silent behind him, his usually unshakeable confidence gone.

"To think that they would be lurking in this castle the whole time.."

"I-I had no idea about any of this," he said. "They must have been acting on their own!"

"Even if that is true," Viggo said, "why should we keep you around? Your men are traitors, and they're all you have." He grinned. "I'd be better off with another guardian that I can trust. And who is strong enough."

"Y-Your Majesty!"

"Unless, of course, you want to prove your strength for yourself?"

The king looked at him in alarm. "..What are you proposing?"

"I want him punished for what he put me through. Heck, I want to punch him myself," Viggo growled. "So I say we have one final match in three days. A fitting final to the tournament that he pushed so hard. Me versus him. If he wins, he can do as he likes. But if I win, I get full freedom. No more Oxford guards- and Daniel gets what's coming to him."

Viggo sighed as we left the throne room, slumping against the wall. “That was nervewracking..”

"I'm proud of you," I said honestly as I sat down beside him. "That was really amazing. You seemed so cool and confident, taking charge of yourself." I found myself gushing, but it didn't seem to matter, when I was with him.

After everything we'd been through, he'd changed. He'd found his moment- and struck. That was something worth the praise.

"Heh." His expression softened. "..I couldn't have done it without you. I probably would have just kept fighting them in that clearing. You gave me the idea.”

“I was only helping you. But..” Something was still bugging me. “Why did they attack you? You didn't have the gem.” I remembered the gem of fire on my belt. Luckily, Caesar still carried his.

“They were after this.” He pulled on something around his neck. “Remember when I said the treasures of the royal family are in one place? This is the key.”

“How strange.” I had seen it so many times, but I'd never realized it was a key.

“And.. that includes the key to awakening the Dragon of Time,” he said.

My heart caught in my throat. “What is it?”

“A belt. All of the gems are placed on it. Then they bring it to the Tower and.. well.”

I felt strange hearing his voice. 'I don't know what this is, but I want to stay with him.'

"They won't get ahold of it,” I assured him. “The battle's almost over. Freedom's not far behind."

"Just a little while longer. Just one more battle to go."

We had three days till the final battle. It wouldn't feel long at all.

That night, Viggo called for us to meet on the rooftop.

“It seems like a lot of the members of Hawkeye were captured,” he said, “but Jaden wasn't among them.”

My heart sank. “She must have fled..”

“And there's no doubt that she'll be helping Daniel in the match.” He took out his telescope. “I've been searching the stars for answers.”

"What did you see?"

"I saw shadows lurking in the dark. More than I could count. And I saw Jaden slipping something into his hand." Viggo folded his arms. "Though I couldn't make out what it was."

That's right. This wasn't just Viggo's burden to carry alone. We had to do our best for him too. "We can be searching through the tournament hall while you're fighting!" I said.

"That's right! We'll help you!"

"I've been waiting to get my hands on those of Hawkeye," Felix muttered.

"We'll sniff them out," Elias said.

I saw Viggo relax a little. And seeing him before us, I couldn't help but laugh a little.

"..What is it?"

"I think you're starting to look like a proper leader, Viggo."

The next morning, to my surprise, I found Viggo and Luca in the library.

“I thought that you'd be preparing for the battle,” I said lightly as I sat next to him.

“Something is still bugging me. We were searching for the records on the Orian family,” he said. “I wanted to see if Jaden might possess the gem of wind after all.”

“What did you find?”

He sighed. “Seems pretty likely to me.”

“The records don't go into specifics,” Luca said with a sigh, “but everything said they have a gem going back to the first king.”

My heart sank. “So it's possible that Jaden has the gem.”

“Or Dahlia,” Viggo said idly.

“What are you talking about? Dahlia died.”

“You mean, you didn't notice?” Viggo looked up in surprise. “That woman that we captured.. Jaden called her Dahlia back there.”

“Are you talking about Cordelia?”

“Yes. The resemblance was unmistakable too.” Trust Viggo to be the one to notice that.

My heart dropped. But suddenly a lot of things were making sense. “..Viggo, where is she now?”

As I pushed open the cell doors, I saw her. Her wrists were bound, but she was sitting against the wall. "I didn't think we'd see each other again so soon, dragon girl.” Her voice was cold as ice. "Are you happy to see me like this?"

"I just wanted to talk to you," I said. Truth be told, I felt nervous- but I couldn't show it.

I felt Viggo take my hand. He met my eyes, and it was like my worry faded. I couldn't be worried when he was by my side. I knew he'd protect me.

I took a deep breath.  "Randolph told me about you. A promising student at the academy, who gave everything up when Jaden brought you into Hawkeye. Why did you go with her? What could she have promised you?"

"That's none of your business."

"Give it up. Jaden already told us," Viggo said. "She's your sister, isn't she?"

That did it. "Shut up!" she snarled, lunging forward. "Shut up!"

"They told us the two of you were separated when your parents died. You had lost so much. But Jaden found you at the academy. She promised you the family that you never had. You gave everything up to follow her."

"Shut up!" she snarled, lashing out against her chains. Viggo stepped between us, shielding me. "You have no idea what it was like! An orphan, all alone in this world, without anybody to care, without so much as a name! All I had left was.." I saw her hand press against her collar, reaching for something that wasn't there. "All I had was..!"

My heart hurt for her, and I stepped forward without thinking. "Why do you think I don't understand? I know what it was like," I said gently. "I was an orphan too. I wished for someone to find me. I know how scared you must have been, how alone that you felt." I felt Viggo's hand tighten in mine. Cordelia stopped- and I could see that she was trembling. "I understand why you followed her into the dark. But she is not who you think she is,” I said. "She abandoned you-"

"She had to!" she snarled. "She had to leave me for the good of Hawkeye! I failed her! I knew this was the price that I paid! Leave me be!" she cried. "Leave me be!"

I could see it. No matter what I said here, nothing would reach her.

"Come on." Viggo guided my shoulder. "Let's go."

Finally, the last day of the tournament dawned.

Viggo was waiting outside the tournament hall. Despite his usual confidence, he seemed to waver. "You're here."

"I wanted to wish you good luck before the match."

This would be the most important battle of Viggo's life. His freedom was riding on this- as well as so much else. What could I possibly say to calm him?

"Viggo! If you win this match, I'll give you a kiss!"

What possessed me to say that? Was I wanting to kiss him?

He smiled, and his nerves seemed to steady. But that smile sent my heart racing. "That's reason enough for me."

Alfonse and I walked together through the tournament hall; I kept my wand at the ready.

'Whatever shadows are out there, I'm ready.'

We walked through the area, but Alfonse idly looked up. "Look. The match is about to start."

Daniel stood at one end of the hall. Despite his usual evidence, he seemed to be shaking. And Viggo stood at the other end, his pipe at the ready.

'He looks like his usual self now,' I thought.

"Begin!" And suddenly I couldn't tear my eyes away. Daniel leaped forward- and punched Viggo in the face!

Viggo stumbled back clutching his jaw, but I saw his eyes light up. "You punk." He smiled. "That's more like it. Pugnus Tempestus!"

His fist came down on Daniel over and over; the man was barely able to stagger to his feet, just barely able to dodge some of his hits.

The audience roared with cheers. Even I couldn't keep the smile off on my lips. 'Not so tough now! Daniel's probably not used to a fair fight.'

But I noticed Viggo drawing closer to him. "What is he doing?" Alfonse asked. "His magic should be enough to keep him at bay."

"It looks like I have no choice." I could just make out him reaching into his pocket-

"Viggo, watch out!"

Daniel threw something at the ground- and a huge cloud of smoke billowed out, consuming the battlefield.

"Viggo!"

"Stay back!" Alfonse grabbed me, pulling me back. I quickly covered my mouth to block out the smoke, but I still found myself looking desperately for Viggo. "I recognize this scent! This is..!"

'Viggo, please, be all right-'

"You're not getting away!" Viggo's voice boomed through the smoke. Mist seeped through the smoke, and I saw Viggo leaping towards him- until I could no longer see them in the smoke.

"We need to get him out of there now!"

Luca: Well, that was quite an exciting fight.

Albert: It's certainly more fun seeing Viggo fight than being the one to fight him.

Luca: And fun to see Daniel getting beat up too.

Albert: It would have been more fun to see his brother be the one in the fight. I would've paid to see that.

Luca: What happened to Lord Oxford anyway?

Albert: I.. don't know. Perhaps he's back at his mansion, fighting Hipogriffs?

Luca: That sounds a little scary.

Albert: Next time, Freedom.

[platonicone]

Devotion - Story of the Oracle and her Shield

Chapter 11 - Qualms of heart

Why do we do things even if it hurts us? I wonder…

Once she was done cleaning his wound, they resumed their journey. They did not know what dangers awaited them.

Neither dared to speak as each was consumed recollecting the events of the morning. The silence in the car was deafening.

Luna noticed Leon’s expressions and she could tell that he was troubled by the possible death of their peers. She too was distraught, but one thing she was good at was making other people forget about their sorrows. She made it a point to normalize the situation whenever possible.

Sulking on the events of the past would not help their current situation, so Luna decided the break the ice. “Should we stop at a nearby outpost to get cleaned up?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he responded briefly.

“Leon, hygiene is very important. The importance of brushing, flossing, and showering daily, cannot be overstated,” she narrated to him as if talking to a child. She tried to lighten the situation.

He let go of one of his hands from the steering for an epic facepalm. “I know that. I meant stopping at the outpost is not a good idea.”

She laughed before indulging him further. “Why do you think so?”

“When a fugitive is on the run, the first thing we do to track them down is to set a checkpoint at their basic necessities. Food, water, and shelter. If the Empire wants to find you, then they will certainly keep tabs on nearby outposts,” he elucidated, like a seasoned mercenary.

“Can’t we just use their amenities?” she complained.

“I don’t think it’s worth the risk. Besides, the nearest outpost is still a few miles away. It will be a while before we reach there,” he replied.

“Aww, I really wanted to freshen up,” she grumbled.

“It’s not exactly princess standard, but we are driving right next to the river,” he suggested, expecting an affirmative reply. He knew very well how to push her buttons. Anything he suggested that she couldn’t do because of her being a princess automatically became a dare for her.

“River would do just fine,” she replied, as expected. Leon’s lips automatically curled up in his silent victory.

“As you wish,” he said, looking for a decent spot to take a break.

After a while, they came to a secluded area where their car could easily be hidden in the bushes.

“Open the trunk, please,” she requested, and he obliged. She made her way to the trunk and started fumbling around with her bags.

“I am going to scout the area to make sure it is safe. Don’t venture too far from here. Call me if you need me,” he instructed.

“Yes, boss,” she replied playfully with a mock salute. Once he left, she went back to fishing her luggage.

He cleared out the area of a few stragglers Saberclaws.

After scouting the area thoroughly, he returned to the car. “It should be safe here for now. Right behind those rocks, there is a small waterfall in a secluded area. Even the water downstream from there is not too deep. Over there are some coconut palm trees right along the riverfront making it a suitable location to relax if you want,” he described, pointing at each location.

It wasn’t until he finished his scouting report that he saw Luna holding many things in her hands. She had a towel, travel kit, clothes, and a few other things. “Where are you going with all that?” he questioned, pointing at many things in her hand.

“Right behind those rocks there is a small waterfall in a secluded area,” she said mimicking his voice. “I am going to go there to brush my teeth, take a bath, and get changed.”

It was time for another facepalm. “If you haven’t noticed we are on the run for our lives,” he said seriously.

“If you haven’t noticed, I am still in my nightdress. I don’t want to die wearing a chocobo pajama.” Somehow her tone left no room for further argument.

“You have strange priorities,” he commented, shaking his head.

“Now I’ll go take a bath over there and you stand here and watch guard,” she commanded.

“No.”

“Good,” she said before realizing that he had not agreed to her terms. “What do you mean, no?”

“It means I am not going to stand here to watch guard,” he asserted, as his eyes scanned the area once more. “I will stand by that rock.”

“You pervert, you just want to be close enough so you can look,” she accused, narrowing her eyes.

He gave himself a facepalm before explaining his rationale. “I just want to be close enough so I can hear you scream. There is a waterfall over there, and if you haven’t noticed it generates a lot of noise. If something were to happen and if you were to scream, I won’t hear it all the way out here. If I stand over there, then I can at least hear you or warn you if required.”

“Okay, that makes sense,” she admitted sheepishly.

They made their way towards the waterfall, making small talks. “If you need me, just yell ice-cream,” he suggested.

“Ice-cream?” she asked.

“Yes, that’s our code word. I’ll come charging in if you say the code word.”

“Why can’t I just yell help like a normal person?”

“You could,” he said with a shrug. “But it's not fun.”

“You have a very weird idea of fun,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Once Leon reached his designated location he announced, “I guess I can use this time to do my daily exercise.” He looked at a branch of a nearby tree and wondered if he could use it for pull-ups.

“Alright, and remember no peeking,” she said in a playful voice.

“If you say it one more time, then I’ll make it a point to look,” he warned.

She pulled an imaginary zipper on her lips.

She disappeared from sight as Leon got busy exercising. Exercise and training were two of his favorite things. He is usually very focused during these activities and often loses track of time. However, today, his mind kept on thinking about the events that had transpired so far. But if there was one thing he prides on, that was his discipline. The more his mind wandered, the harder he trained. He avoided all distraction; he worked out as a man possessed.

A familiar voice fake coughed to break his concentration. “Do you train this rigorously every day?”

He stopped doing his pushups and looked at the friendly intruder. She wore a carmine-pink and white top held up by a string that wraps around her neck. Underneath the top, she wore a double layer flare skirt. The top layer was light pink with a white stripe while the bottom layer was plain white. She wore paler brown boots. Her long hair was styled in a braid down her back, with curls on either side of her face, framing her face. A red ribbon tied her hair together. She looked beautiful.

“Yes. I train like this even when I am sick. The discipline of mind and body is essential for a soldier,” he remarked, catching his breath, getting back on his feet.

“Impressive. I meditate and pray every day. The discipline of mind and soul is essential for an Oracle,” she responded, mirroring his statement.

“I see. Meditation is very good to focus your mind. Perhaps you can teach me your meditation technique?” he requested, wiping off the sweat from his forehead.

“I can teach you, but not until you take a bath first,” she said pinching her nose playfully.

“As you wish,” he said, as he gathered all his belongings. “Your turn to watch guard now.”

“No”

“Huh?”

“It’s my time to meditate and pray. She will watch guard,” Luna stated, pointing at Pryna at a distance.

He looked at Pryna and thought of his own pal, ‘I haven’t seen Umbra in a while.’

He nodded at Luna and made his way to his bath.

A few minutes into the meditation, Luna felt a sudden chill. She opened her eyes and was greeted by the friendly face of Genitana.

“My lady, I have come to caution you,” Gentiana stated with her eyes closed. Luna got very attentive.

“A human heart can be very treacherous. Desires not tamed can lead one astray.”

Luna knew what Gentiana was referring to. “I am committed to my cause, rest assured,” she declared with a steely resolve.

“Of that, I have little doubt. My concern is not of your goals, but your heart.”

“What of it?”

“The bond of the Oracle and her Shield has grown beyond friendship. Should this bond continue to grow unchecked, it will lead to misery and pain. When this bond is severed, it will leave behind two broken hearts: yours and his.”

“What would you have me do?”

“That is not for me to decide. Be very cautious of where your heart leads you. That is all I came to say.”

Luna nodded and Gentiana disappeared from her sight.

Luna knew that she would have to address her feelings for Leon at some point. Just not right now. She shut out any Leon and Noctis related thoughts and returned to her meditation.

After finishing his morning rituals, he came back to see her sitting still in meditation, breathing evenly and deeply. He sat quietly next to her, waiting for her to wake up.

She opened her eyes and saw him sitting next to her with his legs crossed. She noticed he was wearing a high collar sleeveless indigo shirt, black pants and boots, and black cloth covering his left leg and arm. He had a shoulder pauldron, and his chest was covered by two straps, held in place by a lion-like badge. “I am sorry. I did not realize that you were back. How long were you waiting?”

“Just a few minutes. Didn’t want to disturb you from your meditation,” he responded, getting up.

“Thank you. That is very considerate of you,” she replied, grabbing his hand to stand up.

“Shall we go?” he asked.

“No, not before we capture this moment,” she said with a smile. “Give me your phone.”

She got his phone and took a selfie to capture their journey. It was almost noontime and her stomach growled demanding attention.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“A little,” she replied.

“Hmm, we did not stock up on food. We have some chips, cookies, and soda in the car. Or we can find something in the wild to eat,” he wondered, stroking his chin thinking.

“I don’t want any junk food. But what can we get out here?” she wondered.

“I know just the thing that you would like,” he remarked, taking the lead.

After jumping through a few rocks and stepping over a few bushes, they finally made it to their desired location.

“When I came here earlier, I saw coconut palm trees. So, would you like some coconut water?” he offered.

“I would love it,” she confessed, getting excited.

“Why don’t you go get the straws from the car, I’ll work on getting the coconut,” he proposed the plan.

“You got it,” she agreed cheerfully, making her way to the car.

They meet up at the agreed site and Leon had two coconuts in his either hand. He had his pants rolled up to his knees and was barefoot, as his boots were tossed at some distance. He motioned her to follow him.

He sat by the river with his feet dipping in water. The stream of water splashed at his feet, causing rippled downstream. Luna removed her shoes and joined him. She swung her legs freely in water like a child, causing a bigger splash.

Leon had prepped the coconut prior to her arrival. He poked a hole in it with his dagger and inserted the straw and offered it to Luna.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile. He nodded and continued poking a hole through another coconut; this one was for himself.

“Do you always carry that dagger with you? I noticed you had it back when we fought against Titan,” she asked curiously, looking at the dagger.

“It’s a survival knife. A dear friend of mine gave it to me as our parting gift. She said I should hold on to it so we have a reason to meet again. It’s a shame I don’t remember her anymore. I’ve been carrying it with me ever since. It has gotten me out of tough situations many times.”

“Interesting story,” she commented, before sipping her coconut.

They were sitting under the light shade of coconut palm trees, sipping coconut. Their legs freely swung in the lukewarm water. The birds sang melodious tunes and gentle breezes danced around them, providing a soothing atmosphere. To think that they were running away for their lives just a few hours ago seemed like a distant memory. Luna took their customary selfie capturing this perfect moment.

He had offered to go, but she insisted on staying there for a few more minutes.

“Leon, I can’t do this anymore. I am tired of seeing people die for my sake. I am tired to see you getting hurt for my sake. It is one thing for me to sacrifice everything I have to protect the world, but I can’t bear to watch others sacrificing themselves for me.”

“People have not sacrificed their lives for you; they did it for a cause they believed in. The only way to honor their sacrifice is to keep going on this path,” he encouraged.

“The path that I walk on only leads to more despair and dismay,” she sighed, looking at her distorted reflection in the water.

“That may be so, but it’s a worthy price for a brighter future.”

“Yeah,” she whispered quietly.

Luna hadn’t said anything for a while. She seemed distracted; he noticed.

“Everything okay?” he asked with concern.

“Leon, what would happen to us once this is over?”

He took a deep breath and begin to answer. “You will get married to your prince charming and live happily ever after. I will go back to my time and will try to pick up the pieces and make something out of it.”

“No, I mean, what would happen to us?” she choked, placing her left hand on his right hand.

Luna was torn by her current predicament. She cared about Leon deeply that much she knew. But how deep were her feelings for him, she did not know. Perhaps she knew but was too stubborn to admit it.

With their nascent relationship, Leon knew they needed to have this conversation sometime. He just didn’t think it would be today. They were more than friends, even Leon could tell. His loyalty to her was unquestioning but was it out of duty, honor, or feelings, he did not know. Perhaps he knew but did not have the courage to admit it.

“We,” he paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “We will become memories. Our time together will become past and we will reflect on it either fondly or with regret.”

“I don’t want this to end. I don’t want this to become a fragment of a forgotten memory.”

“I don’t think we have a choice in that,” Leon replied solemnly.

“I know,” she sighed with resignation. “Such is our fate,” she radiated sadness with every word.

‘What we have is something pure and beautiful. Anything further than this will just lead to more heartache.’ He decided it would be best for them to keep their distance to avoid any further attachment. But his walls crumble as soon as he saw water forming at the edge of her eyes.

He lifted her chin and made her look into his eyes. “We decide our fate by the choices we make and the actions we take. Sometimes circumstances dictate our choices, but that is okay, not everything has to go according to our wishes. It is precisely when things don’t go our way that we yearn, learn, adapt, improve, improvise, and grow. It is in this struggle that our conviction, courage, character, resilience, grit, and our bonds are tested. It is in this struggle that you realize what is worth fighting for and how much you are willing to sacrifice for it. No goal can be achieved without sacrifice. For a goal as noble as yours, saving the world from eternal darkness, if you have to sacrifice your freedom to choose, then don’t have second thoughts.”

‘I have lived most of my life like a prisoner in my own castle. I don’t care about losing my freedom. If I walk on the path I am supposed to, then I might save the world, but I will lose you in the process!’

For the first time in her life, she was not content by simply doing what was supposed to do. She loved Noctis because it was her duty. She loved Leon because she wanted to. She felt torn between her duty and her heart.

“Leon, I don’t think I have the courage to sacrifice what I am asked for,” she confessed averting her gaze.

“Luna, you are a lot stronger than you think you are. In fact, you are one of the most courageous people I have ever known. At a young age, you lost your parents, your brother defected, your kingdom lost, you were a prisoner in your own castle, and in spite of all that you never gave up. You traveled around the world, giving hope to people when you had none. You put a smile on the face of people whenever you went even though you had lost yours. You healed people even when you were hurt the most. If that is not courage, then I don’t know what is.”

‘I did all that because back then I had nothing to lose. Now I am afraid of losing you. I think I should be blunt and just say it, he is really not getting this.’

“I am neither loyal to my duties nor to my heart. It is not fair to him and it sure as hell is not fair to you. I am a horrible person,” she spoke as tears streamed down her face.

Before she could speak any further, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder and continued to sob.

‘To belong to someone you can never be with and forgo the one you want to be with, such is my fate,’ she thought.

He could not bear to see her sad, so he tried to cheer her up. “Someday when I look back at our time together, I don’t want to look at it with regret. We can’t control what happens to us in the future, but we can choose what we do now. So, let’s make the best out of what we have right now. If we are to be memories, then let's make the best memories together.”

He knew fully well that he would come to regret this advice. The only thing ‘making the best of their time’ would bring him is pain. The more they stayed together, the more they liked each other and the more difficult it would be to stay apart. But if his pain is the price for her happiness, then he would gladly pay it.

His suggestion seem to briefly bring a smile back on her face. “It is so unlike you to cheer someone up, but you still did it for me, and for that, I am grateful to you,” she acknowledged, looking up at him. He just nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

“I don’t like to see you cry,” he confessed, releasing her from his hug.

“Then I promise not to cry,” she assured, wiping her tears. ‘I promise not to cry in front of you at least.’

They went back to sipping his coconut as silence accompanied them once again. It was their conscious choice not to think about the past or the future and enjoy what they had now. They resumed their journey after their long break.

They made a stop at Meldacio Hunter HQ for a delivery. Knowing that they won’t be able to say at an outpost for a while, and sleeping under the stars might be their only option, Luna purchased some groceries when Leon was busy running errands.

When Leon came back, he saw Luna wearing a cap and sunglasses. “How do I look?” she eagerly asked, as he approached the car.

“Beautiful as always,” words came out of his mouth unfiltered.

She immediately blushed at his honest response. He wished he had timed it.

“What brought about this change?” he questioned, sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Just wanted to blend in with everyone else. Also, for those who don’t know me so well, it would make a little harder to identify me in this,” she gave her rationale.

“Now you are starting to think like a fugitive on the run. I am proud of you,” he remarked casually, as he started the car.

They continued their journey with minimal hostility for now. As their car ride started getting longer, a pattern emerged. Luna would often read a book while Leon drove silently. Sometimes they would turn on the radio to listen to the news or songs. Their ride was usually quiet unless Luna initiated some conversation.

“Leon, do you miss home?” she asked unprompted.

“How can I miss something I don’t even remember?” he stated, eyes still glued to the road. “Do you?”

“Yes, I do miss my home. I miss the people of our palace and our town. I miss my bed. I miss my sylleblossom,” she listed all the things she missed. “I wonder if Maria is watering them regularly.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be home soon. You just need to finish these trials,” he suggested.

“I am not so sure about that. Once the trials are done, I don’t even know what will happen to me,” she whispered softly, looking in the distance.

“Why do you say that?” he asked. ‘Once again, she is talking with a sense of finality. What does she know that I don’t? What is she not telling me?’

“It’s nothing. Let’s not talk about it,” she averted, ending the conversation abruptly.

Looking at her pained expression, he decided not to push the topic any further.

Not wanting to spend too much time in public, they had grabbed some food on the go. They stopped by an old abandoned farmhouse to take a break and eat their lunch.

They sat on a broken bench side by side as they unpacked their sandwiches.

“Leon, what’s your favorite dish?” she asked, as she carefully took out peppers from her sandwich.

“I forgot the name. It’s that sweet you made for us at Lestallum,” he replied, carefully picking out olives from his sandwich.

“Memory lane pastry,” she recalled immediately.

“Yes, that. It was amazing,” he exclaimed, before taking a bite out of his sandwich.

“I am glad you liked it. I will make it for you again,” she offered, after chewing.

“You don’t like peppers?” he asked.

“I do, but there are too many in here,” she stated.

“Pass it on, I’ll take it,” he proposed.

“What did olives ever do to you?” she asked.

“Just don’t like them,” he said plainly.

“Can I have them?” she requested.

“Absolutely,” he gladly agreed.

“What is your favorite dish?” he asked.

“I enjoy falafel,” she remarked, after thinking.

“Your favorite drink?” she asked.

“Pina colada,” he replied enthusiastically.

“I don't like it at all," she said immediately. "However, you seem to like coconut-based flavors, don’t you?” she remarked, noticing the pattern.

“I guess I do,” he confessed. “Your favorite drink?” he inquired.

“Mango shake,” she replied gleefully. “Let me guess, your favorite ice-cream is Coconut chocolate?”

“Yes. And yours is Cookies and cream?” he guessed.

“Nope. My favorite ice-cream is pineapple orange. Maria at our manor makes this amazing ice-cream,” she recalled fondly.

“You know so much about me and I feel like I don’t know anything about you,” he stated disappointingly.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get there,” she encouraged.

They finished their meal in idle conversations like this. Once done, they made their way back to their car while having a playful banter. Ever since Luna broke down and poured her heart out, everything felt slightly different. Even though they tried their best to keep everything normal, there was always an underlying pain that accompanied their every conversation now.

Their journey continued as clouds gathered above. Leon retracted the previously open roof back to enclose the open car. Within moments rain started pouring. Luna was busy reading one of the books Lina had left in the car, ‘The Legend of Vascaroon’. Leon played some music at a very low volume and occasionally tapped his fingers along with the beats.

She reclined her seat back, taking a break from the reading.

“Coffee?” she asked.

“Sure, but do we have any?”

“I got one can of Ebony Coffee at our last stop,” she revealed, reclining her chair back up so she can reach the glove compartment in front of her.

“You are the best. I was starting to feel a bit sleepy,” he admitted.

“I wasn’t sure if you would like it or not, so I only got one,” she said, opening the can and handing it to him.

“Thanks!” he took a sip of it and it was truly great coffee. “This is fantastic, you should try it too,” he suggested, offering her the can.

She was hesitant at first, unsure of what to do. There were out of straws and there was only one can. Drinking from the top would be risky in a moving car. After evaluating all her options, she grabbed the can and took a sip from it directly. She had never shared food like this with anyone else before. It felt odd and comfortable at the same time.

But one sip of coffee made her forget all that. “Wow, this is good. We need to stock up on this.”

“I 100% agree.”

They each took a sip alternatively and quickly finished off Ebony, longing for more.

Longing for something they can't have seemed like the theme of their life.

Author's notes

The answer from the last chapter: Lina is a White SeeD who reads book to the children on the White SeeD ship.

This chapter's question: What is significant about "The Legend of Vascaroon" book and Survival knife?

Please leave a comment if you've enjoyed the story so far. I would love to hear your thoughts. Thanks :)

[cerillosvillage]

Rate My Closet: Ithelweex #374376

@ithelweex

Welcome back to RATE MY CLOSET, the fashion show ranked number one amongst silk-haters. Today we’re visiting the Twisting Crescendo to check out Ithelweex’s closet. Will it lead us to a crescendo of our own, or give us fashion blue-balls? I’m sorry, that was an absolutely horrible joke, let’s just get on with things. 

I’m going to be honest I had to click to the next dragon, then back to Euphoria, then back twice before I could even figure out what was going on in this outfit. It’s just... so confusing. None of the pieces coalesce. The Prismatic Crystalscales are only part of the outfit that actual work. Now, I know what you’re going for here - this is prime Lisa Frank aesthetic. But you need to play up those soft pastels. A Vintage Starsilk Wingdrape, Pastel Rosethorn Collar, and Desert Dynasty Cuffs would all serve her better than what she’s currently got going on. 

WOOF, Evershine is a mess, but I love a challenge. First off, that Twilight Oracle Guise is the wrong shade of blue for her, and it needs to go. The Twilight Rose Thorn stuff is... well, it can stay, but it’s on thin fucking ice. Consider the Nebula Starsilk Circlet, Tigerlily Flowerfall, Twice-Dyed Mantle, and any of the Brilliant Healer accessories. 

Does anyone else think about the ‘shrubbery’ bit from Monty Python and the Holy Grail when looking at Dylana, or is it just me? Look, the Leafy Gladeboughs are a hard piece of apparel to work with, but the main way they work is through contrast. Tarnish is just too close in color to the Gladeboughs to work here, Dylana looks less like a Nature rep and more like a poorly trimmed hedge. It’s tempting to use festival apparel for flight reps, but it’s really not necessary. Some Poisonous Grove pieces would work a bit better here, as the green is brighter and will provide more of a ‘pop’. 

[askthegreenguys]

“Como que ‘practical for battle’ I was like, ten!”

“Why does everyone fixate on the no pants thing? Hyrule is hot in the summer!”

//Then why are you wearing a long sleeve?

“You stay out of this!”

“Meh, I’m not gonna bother, I guess a 6 is fine. Also it’s ocarina...”

*flexes* “Yeahhh seven years really makes a difference, huh?”

“Literally still me... hence why the outfit is mostly the same...”

//...

“What’s that look for?”

//I just realized I’ve been drawing you wrong FOR SIX YEARS. You’re supposed to use your Oracles appearance and I didn’t realize the collar was different from the ALttP one.

“Ha! Take that haters!”

“The conductor’s outfit is pretty snazzy isn’t it? Why is simplicity suddenly a pro though... a really elaborate outfit wouldn’t have worked with Brown’s art style I don’t think...”

“Hey, leave Ezlo out of it, wearing him was the easiest way to just keep him with me! I have a normal hat, see?!”

“Hey, they left us out! That’s not nice, we’ve got all different colors too!”

*sighs* “You get used to it, kiddo...”

*preens* “Thank ya kindly Miss Ice Cream.”

“Twilight, you were cool up until the point when you opened your mouth. Also hey I have earrings too!”

“Heh, I’ll take it. Twilight has mail too, just so you know, the rings are just smaller than mine.”

***BONUS***

“Obviously you’re ignoring Tri Force Heroes, because he had some rather nice outfits there. I won’t fight you on the last comment though, Art could do with a dash of humility every now and again...”

“Oh, nuh-uh, you did not just give Scarfy the best score! He looks like a twink with no common sense, one of these days some enterprising bokoblin is going to get the best of him just by giving that damn scarf of his a good tug!”

“I give him a solid 5. The hat alone is worth three, at least and I don’t give a darn how much the Great Fairy upgraded yer clothes, git some damn armor ya ninny.”

//Hey I for one like the rubber armor (although it can’t be comfortable yikes)

[takaraphoenix]

Phoe’s Advent Calendar Project: Day 11

Oooh, this one was fun. @Kai-is-a-nemo who I can not link? Why not? requested an odd combination of words. So, enjoy.

Title: Advent Calendar Project – Rock-Solid Confession

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians / Heroes of Olympus

Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Rick Riordan for he created the awesomeness that is Nico di Angelo. And everything else related to Percy Jackson and the Olympians / Heroes of Olympus. Aside from the Gods, they belong to the old Greeks. This fanfiction and its OCs on the other hand are entirely mine. No money is made with this, though reviews are more than welcomed.

Warnings: shounen-ai, fluff, cuddles, accidental confession

Main Pairing: Nico/Percy

Percy Jackson Characters: Perseus Jackson, Nico di Angelo, Will Solace

Summary: Camp is trying a new tradition. New Year's resolutions, written on stones and thrown into the lake. Percy likes looking at them during his dives and finds one that is a very clear love-confession to him. From Nico.

Links: FFNet | AO3

Rock-Solid Confession

Camp Half-Blood had started a new traditions this year. One of the new campers had brought it to them. He used to do this with his mortal family – they used to live at a lake. Writing their New Year's resolutions onto a flat rock and throwing it into the lake. All of camp had gladly participated, because with the end of the Giant War, they all were looking forward to a peaceful new year.

Percy liked them. He liked looking at them. It was the middle of January and most of the lake was frozen solid. Percy was the only one swimming in it. The others liked to throw snowballs at him whenever he dove in. But somehow, Percy had taken to ice-baths to ground himself. He hid in the dark, cold water when memories and flashbacks became too much. And ever since the stones were down there, Percy had something solid to distract him too. He liked to look through them, liked to read the resolutions, the hopes and dreams. This collection of wishes for a better future.

Some were really funny and sweet. Others made him sad and nostalgic.

But today, Percy found a very special stone.

"Finally fall out of love with Percy Jackson and become his friend."

Percy blinked as he stared at the stone. He didn't know what to do with that. He took the stone with him, he could just not leave it there. Someone was in love with him? Really? The last three people who had been in love with him had not ended well. Annabeth had fallen in love with Piper while Percy had been away. Rachel had become the virgin oracle of Delphi. Calypso had literally cursed him. So who in their right mind would fall in love with him?

/break\

Nico was laying sprawled out on a bed in the infirmary. Will was occasionally throwing something at Nico. It wasn't Nico's fault though. He had taken to hiding in here as though it was a great escape. Will was now his friend and Will had promised to help Nico. With settling with his sexuality and also with his long-lasting feelings for Percy. Though so far Will had been useless.

"Aside from dragging me to cafés, you have done nothing", muttered Nico.

"I introduced you to a total of four gay guys who were into you", drawled Will unimpressed. "You have barely even glanced at them and afterward, I had to listen to you comparing them to Percy. It's not my fault that you are so deeply gone on Percy that you can't even see other options."

Nico glowered at the blonde and turned away, blushing a bit. Okay, so maybe Will really couldn't help him if he wasn't fully ready to move on. Urgh. It wasn't his fault Percy was perfect.

"He—ey. Oh. Nico. You're here", stated Percy surprised as he entered. "You're here... a lot."

"Stockholm syndrome", drawled Nico dryly. "He kept me captive in here until I stayed willingly."

Will threw a pencil at him. Nico couldn't blame him this time around. He sighed and sat up, glaring down at the list on his lap. He had been working on this. Will had made him do this. A list of things that Nico wanted to see in the world, things he wanted to do. To get him out of his hiding hole in the underworld. He was now actually considering a future and what he wanted from life.

"Your handwriting", sputtered Percy all of a sudden, staring doe-eyed at Nico's list.

"Uhm... Yeah?", grunted Nico very confused, watching how Will handed Percy nectar.

"I know that handwriting", stated Percy, slipping a hand into his back-pocket.

Nico frowned confused and blushed as Percy bent over, resting his chin on Nico's shoulder to look over at the handwriting. Percy was so close, Nico could smell all that sea-breeze scent and feel the soft tickling of fluffy black hair against his cheek. Nico's heart was racing.

"But... you said it was just a crush and that you're over it", whispered Percy confused.

Nico looked as confused, but then Percy pulled a flat stone out of his pocket and laid it down on top of Nico's list. Nico's heart stopped. That was the stone he had thrown into the lake on New Year's Eve. The one where he had written down his feelings for Percy. Why did Percy have it?

"I found this at the bottom of the lake when I was diving", drawled Percy, frowning. "And I've been thinking about who would be in love with me for like two weeks now. But... you..."

"Oh, for the love of the gods", sighed Will frustrated. "I'll leave. I wanted to go on a date with Jake anyway. You two. Just... kiss. Please. For the sake of everyone involved."

Nico's blush intensified as he turned to look at Percy, who... was also blushing. Wait. What?

"I've been thinking about you a lot since you told me you used to have a crush on me and I kind of started seeing you as... as... not the ten year old little boy I first met but as someone who is actually like... a possible romantic interest", confessed Percy flustered.

"...What? You just said words, but they made no sense", grunted Nico with a confused frown.

"I like you. A lot", admitted Percy, cheeks dark-red.

"That's impossible", snorted Nico, grasping the stone he had written on.

"I could kiss you if that helps prove it?", offered Percy daringly, glaring at Nico.

"Sure. Show me", snorted Nico, squinting at Percy in challenge.

Horrifyingly enough, Percy grabbed him by his collar and pulled him down into a kiss. Nico's brain shut down. Percy's lips were plush and soft and tasted like strawberries. Percy was clinging onto him for dear life and his tongue traced Nico's lips and Nico's brain officially died. He violently pushed Percy away, leading to Percy crashing onto the floor. Nico looked at him in mortification.

"Oh gods", muttered Nico traumatized. "Y—You k—kissed me. You kissed me. Why would you?!"

"Because I like you. And damn, I really liked kissing you", hummed Percy as he gathered himself up from the ground. "Also, ouch. So... no to more kissing then, huh?"

Percy looked like a kicked kitten as he grabbed the flat stone, tracing the writing on it. Nico took a deep breath as he gathered all the courage that he had and grabbed Percy by the collar to pull him back down into a deep kiss. Percy grunted surprised and held onto Nico's shoulders.

"Now I'm confused", admitted Percy as they broke apart.

"I love you", whispered Nico breathlessly. "I love you so much. I love you. I've loved you for years and I still love you and I might just always love you but you confuse me so much and... I..."

"Okay", nodded Percy, fingers playing with Nico's curls. "Good. I like you a lot and I... might fall in love with you, if we're... together. So, we're boyfriends now? More kissing?"

"Boyfriends. More kissing", agreed Nico, pulling Percy right back in.

~*~ The End ~*~