#glad you like it. i cast spell of one million kisses

[daisychainsandbowties]

I wish to convey my unhinged love of child of Hades Lilith... this is communicated best by biting you? I am biting you. I bite you till I draw blood then I bite you some more, such is my love of Lilith.

child of hades lilith was possibly my best idea ever (along with giving her a red lightsaber) she’s just perfect she’s out there dressed all in black she’s got her sunglasses and a snake ate her phone and she’s ready to lay down and die for anyone who gives her one scrap of affection.

she’s living in a lean-to outside her dad’s house (hell) she’s got a sword that can eat monsters. she can commune with spirits but it’s gross and she has a gameboy advanced demigod version with her precious charizard and the dragonair she refuses to evolve like she’s so cringefail wet with ichor and polluted death-river water i’m obsessed with her

oh and let’s not forget that her best friend in the world is a three-headed dog who can eat the souls of the dead (lilith feeds him honey cakes)

[hisokakissmeplz]

Can I have a knight kurapika saving female reader from yandere warlock theif chrollo you can add nsfw if you want and nen

light nsfw afab reader

You kissed him goodbye with a sorrowful smile. He had to go, no matter how much you both wanted him to stay. Kurapika adorned his Knight's cloak and chestplate amour, the metal cold against your chest as you hugged him and sent him off on his way.

Unbeknownst to you, the man Kurapika was hunting, a thieving warlock watched from afar.

Chrollo had been watching you since his last mission. A simple heist that he almost failed because he couldn't keep his eyes of you.

Something about how you swayed your hips as you walked or how your eyes lit up with emotion drove Chrollo insane.

This was his chance, his chance to finally take you as his. To steal you away from that stingy little knight.

He summoned his bandit book like he had a million times before, casting a bewitching spell he conjured up the image of a hurt kitten. Knowing that you were too sweet and whole hearted to leave a hurt kitten alone in the cool autumn air.

The kitten hollered only a few moments before you came rushing out the door and to the rescue.

But Chrollo was waiting for you.

His arms wrapped tightly around you, restraining almost all movements as you desperately tried to wiggle free.

Tired of your struggling, he casted a sleeping spell over you.

Waking up, your eyes began to adjust to the damp and erie shack you were in. You began to struggle against the chains holding you there.

A smooth and soft voice rang through your ears.

"Darling, I'm so glad you're awake."

His voice held no malice, but you could feel the dangerous aura oozing from him.

He stepped into the light and only then could you make out the delicate, yet handsome features of your capturer.

Chrollo, the theiving warlock who Kurapika left you to hunt. If he had only stayed a little longer. You thought as you struggled once more against the chains.

"It's pointless, my dear."

Your capturer's voice rang out again through the grimy old building.

"They're nen chains, much like the ones your precious knight in shining amour uses. They're simply unbreakable."

Chrollo began to walk closer. His footsteps echoed through the walls, sending shivers down your spine with every step.

"Do you know how long I've waited for this? To finally have you."

Closer.

"To see you, your pretty little eyes with that determined and optimistic look."

Standing in front of you he kneeled down to whisper in your ear.

"You think he's going to save you, don't you?"

He took his finger and slid it between the chains over your mouth, pulling them loose so you could speak.

"You won't, he won't let you get away with this!"

You spat at him with as much anger as you could muster.

"Oh darling, perhaps I need to persuade you."

He stayed kneeling beside you, his finger coming up to twist around a lock of your hair.

"Then maybe you'll see my side of things."

His other hand crept dangerously close to your chest.

You squirmed against the chains, pulling away from him.

"Darling, please don't pull away. I only wish to make you feel good."

His fingertips brushed gently against your collar bones.

"Please just give me a chance, a chance to show you how much better I can treat you."

His cold fingertips against your bare neck and jaw as well as his warm breath fanning across you ear sent jolts down to your core.

You don't know why you agreed, something about the suave in his voice and the pleading tone he took made you curious. It made your head spin.

You nodded slowly and he wasted no time letting his hands slip into your blouse. His cold hands brushed against your bare nipples and you moaned out loud at the sensation.

"Oh God, you sound so perfect. Such a shame that little knight has to keep you all for himself."

His hands groped even harder at your chest.

Your face flushed and Chrollo groaned at the sight. He finally got to touch you, after waiting and watching for so long.

The sound of glass shattering broke your feelings of bliss.

"Chrollo."

The familiar voice called out from behind you.

Thank god he was behind you, otherwise he would have seen the look of pure lust painted across your face.

Shaking it all away you called out desperately for him.

"Kurapika! Kurapika I'm over here!"

You squirmed against the chains harshly and Chrollo smirked at you before standing up to face Kurapika.

"Sir Kurapika, might we discuss this elsewhere? I wouldn't want to offend the little lady."

Kurapika must of silently agreed because you heard their footsteps drift into the other room.

You could hear arguing then what had to be an altercation by the sound of it.

You shut your eyes tightly, praying to whatever god that would listen, Kurapika would be okay.

It must've worked because there he kneeled, loosening your chains and pulling you free.

"Are you alright, my love?"

You nodded and leaned against him as he help you stand up.

"Let's just go home."

Although you were shaken by the experience, you couldn't help but wonder about Chrollo.

okay that's all sorry it's super short

[purlturtle]

Character ask game, 25, for HG and Myka. (haven't been in the fandom for a minute, hope I spelled Myka's name right)

25: What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

(all questions here)

Oh that's a tricky one, because my memory isn't good 😅 I'm gonna think back real hard, but I can't promise it won't be colored by present feelings!

So I watched Warehouse because I saw it on the list of things that Kate Mulgrew had recently done, and I loved her in Voyager, and so I checked Warehouse out - but from the very beginning; yep, I'm that kind of person. I want to have ALLLLL the context 😅

And I was *immediately* taken by Myka. I latched on to her so hard. SO HARD. Immediate blorbo, as the kids say today. Luckily, that was 20....11? I think? So there was a good number of episodes already out, and I just inhaled them. I liked Pete well enough, especially since he was good for Myka's closed-off-ness; even the pilot established that, but Myka was front and goddamn center for me.

I wasn't watching these together with other fans, by the way. I wasn't *in* any fandom then; if I enjoyed something, I was enjoying it on my own. I didn't even know about fan fiction, although I did know about conventions - but only for Star Trek? Anyway yeah, that all changed with Warehouse, but I digress.

When Helena appeared on screen for the first time, I *immediately* saw the chemistry between the two of them, never mind that kiss that H.G. gave Pete. I do remember being stunned like Myka at the reveal of who H.G. Wells really was! And then For The Team happened and I was FUCKING SOLD.

But even before that shipping, I loved H.G. as a character: a smart woman out of Victorian age into current time, beautiful, angry, hurting - oh I wanted to see more of her, wanted to have her as a regular cast member, *knew* there would be a heel turn somewhere (well, probably more of a wishful thinking situation but I was RIGHT!)

Just like Myka's smarts and emotional closed-off-ness, Helena's smarts and her very big very open wound immediately made me latch on to her too. And the fact that they are both absolutely stunning in their own way didn't hurt at all! (I still have a crush on both of them 😂)

Today, as I have written over a million words exploring both of their characters (*coughhumblebragcough*), I still love them more than any other fictional character. They are truly my One True Pairing in the deepest sense of the word; no other couple comes close, and I cannot ship them with any others (except perhaps clones of themselves or each other, but I digress again). I am obsessed with them. I feel like I learn something new about them every time I sit down to write, every time I talk with someone about them - and I am SO fucking glad that there are still people who want to talk about them.

Instinct in particular (the episode I mean) makes me fucking FERAL because I understand both of them so well. God, it just tears at my heartstrings in the best worst way.

Thank you for asking, and allowing me to gush about these two! ♥️

[verdant-mischief]

His Brightest Star

Remus is lying awake, staring up at the ceiling, listening to Peter shift restlessly around in his bed and James turn the pages of his book. His eyes feel heavy, the exhaustion from a week of classes and studying weighing down on him, but he doesn´t want to fall asleep. At least not yet. His gaze shifts from the ceiling to the window, where a million stars light up the night sky.

He traces the constellations with his eyes, after years of Astronomy classes knowing them by heart. There´s Orion, the hunter, the most obvious one with his belt, right next to it the V-shape that forms Taurus´ head and the faint stars of the Pleaides cluster and when he turns his head just so, he can see Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. A small smile appears on his face, and he tears his gaze away from the window, looking over at his Sirius, lying just a few metres away. It´s too dark to see more than an outline of a body beneath a blanket, but he can still feel his heart starting to beat faster, a warm feeling blooming in his chest.

While Peter has finally stopped turning and is now snoring softly, James is still reading, and Remus starts considering using a sleeping spell on him. Maybe he´s steal one of the sleeping potions next time he has detention. A moment later though, James finally puts his book down and with a whispered Nox the soft glow of light disappears. Soon he can hear his deep and regular breaths and Remus figures that he has finally fallen asleep. He turns back onto his side, staring at the bed next to his. Sirius doesn´t move, though, and after another minute Remus almost believes that he has fallen asleep already. The thought makes his heart drop, and he has to fight against the disappointment he feels rising inside him. He should be glad that Sirius is getting some sleep at last. Lately there have been far too many nights he´d spent lying away, unable to fall asleep, the little sleep he managed to get restless and troubled. Still, Remus has gotten used to having Sirius next to him, wrapped around him while he falls asleep and despite the exhaustion from before, he finds it hard to fall asleep now. His thoughts keep spiralling, like they so often do when he´s alone in the dark, and he is about to just get up and go for a midnight walk, when he hears the rustling of sheets and a moment later naked feet hitting the ground. Remus almost doesn´t dare turn back around, not quite convinced that his mind isn´t playing tricks on him or that this isn´t some kind of dream. But then he hears footsteps coming closer to his bed and a moment later he can feel someone hovering over him.

“Remus, are you still awake?” Sirius´s whispered voice asks, and Remus can feel a smile forming on his lips. He shifts around, looking up at Sirius, his skin even paler in the dim light of the moon. With his black hair falling into his face, he almost looks like a ghost, and for a second Remus doubts if he isn´t a figment of his imagination after all, but then he smiles, looking as beautiful and alive as ever, and the spell is broken. Remus lifts his blanket and Sirius doesn´t waste any time before climbing into the bed, bringing a wave of cold night air with him. Goosebumps rise on Remus´ skin as Sirius´s legs tangle with his and his hands find their way to his face, his fingers freezing cold. Sirius leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to Remus´ lips and if he shivers, they can both pretend it´s from the cold and nothing more.

“Almost thought you´d stand me up, Black.”

Remus can see Sirius´ lips turn up into a grin, his eyes sparkling.

“I wouldn´t dare, Lupin. I´m far too scared Potter would snatch you away from me.”

At that Remus can´t help but laugh, clutching his hands to his mouth to stifle the noise. He quickly whispers “Sonoro Quiescis”, casting a silencing spell over his bed as not to wake the others. He feels the outside world dull ever so slightly and finally finds himself able to relax. Now it´s only Sirius and him and Remus would never admit it, but those stolen hours between sleep and waking are his favourite moments.

“You´re an idiot, you know that, right?”

Sirius chuckles softly and kisses him again, once again taking Remus´ breath away.

“You keep telling me.”

Remus rolls his eyes, but can´t quite keep the fond smile off his face.

“You keep giving me reasons to do so.”

Sirius smirks.

“So, no need to worry about James and you flying off into the sunset then? Holding hands and leaving me behind?”

All Remus can do is shake his head.

“I don´t even know if you´d be more jealous of James or me in this scenario.”

Sirius lets out a laugh, beaming at Remus.

“What you are telling me is that I do need to be worried.”

Remus doesn´t even dignify that with an answer, instead pulling Sirius closer and kissing him, hands buried in his hair. He feels Sirius melt in his arms and when they part there´s a slightly dazed look on his face and even in the dim moonlight Remus can see the red tint of his cheeks, his hair an utter mess. Remus reaches up and brushes one of the hair strands out of Sirius´ face, trailing his finger down his neck. He can feel Sirius take a shaky breath, still staring at him like a deer in the headlights.

The words “I love you. Merlin, do you have any idea how deeply I´m in love with you, Sirius Black?” flicker through his mind, but he can´t say them. Not now, maybe never. Instead, he presses one last kiss to Sirius´ lips, before whispering: “We should really go to sleep.”

“You´re so boring, Lupin,” Sirius gives back, but curls up in his arms, nonetheless, fitting right into his embrace as if he was made to be there, two puzzle pieces, fitting perfectly together. In a few hours Remus will wake up and shake Sirius awake, who will steal into his own bed again, unseen and unheard, like he was never here at all, like it was all just a dream, but for now Remus gets to hold him, and fall asleep listening to his heart beating slow and steady, and he wouldn´t trade this for anything in the world.

[cower-before-power]

Slippery When Wet: Part 2

Summary: An untimely accident in the shower leaves you injured and in need of rescue. Lucky for you, the object of your affections is more than willing to help.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

TW: swearing, nudity, implied sexual content, description of injury (nothing graphic), unintentional voyeurism? (idk i mean like voyeurism in the name of helping i’m not sure how to say it ha), lots of dick talk, prolly really bad sex jokes

Link to A03 here

PART 1 HERE

A/N: First of all, THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO READ, LIKED, REBLOGGED AND COMMENTED ON PART 1. You are all amazing, I am so glad you are enjoying this silly little venture Gojo has dragged me on. Again, thank you so much to @ghost-party for her beta skills, you da best! I hope Part 2 makes you all happy :) please enjoy, sweet potatoes!

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You shouldn’t look. Not because you don’t want to, but if you do you’ll know what is absolutely not warming your bed at night and then you’ll probably just feel worse. But, you were overwhelmingly curious. Just a quick look couldn’t hurt.

Right?

You peek through your fingers, just at his upper half. The sight makes you curse softly under your breath. Of course he’s absolutely beautiful out of clothes, did you really expect anything less?

“If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll get dressed,” he says, “just thought this would help you out.”

Help you out? Good grief this is going to be the star of your late night fantasies for months. Because instead of dreaming it up, you now have the real thing to recall.

“No,” you take a deep breath and drop your hands. “I’m fine.”

Are you though? He’s built to perfection, checking off all the boxes on your “Things I find physically attractive” checklist. You marvel at this long column of his throat, sweeping down into a set of collarbones that would make models die of envy. His chest is hairless (did he wax or was it just naturally that way?), miles of smooth skin and muscle that your fingers were just itching to trace.

Your eyes trail down past his stomach, briefly cataloging the very nice set of abs, before settling on what you were the most curious about.

The snort of laughter escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“Excuse me, did you just look at my dick and laugh?” He asks accusingly, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you giggle at the disgruntled expression on his face. “It’s just, I’ve always wondered if the carpet matched the drapes since I assumed you dye your hair. Guess I was wrong.”

For the first time since you’ve known him, Gojo Satoru visibly deflates.

“That’s what you’ve thought about?” His voice is full of frustrated disbelief. “My pubic hair?”

You can’t stop giggling. “You can’t blame a girl for being curious! Are you sure you shouldn’t get rid of it though? Doesn’t the white make people think they’re boning an old man?”

“The utter disrespect,” he gasps, shaking his head. “I can assure you that is the last thing on their minds when I’m working my magic.”

You wonder why you aren’t feeling more flustered. The fun and teasing atmosphere feels almost refreshing after the intense back and forth that was just occurring.

“What, you casting spells for dry weather?”

“Oh, you are evil!” He moans, then looks down at himself. “Don’t listen to her, big guy. You know what you can do.”

“For fuck’s sake, don’t talk to it,” you roll your eyes, trying not to grin. “And don’t oversell the merchandise. It’s average, at best.”

(It isn’t. It’s probably the nicest looking one you’ve ever seen. But him and his astronomical ego do not need to know that)

Gojo grabs his chest as if you’ve physically wounded him. “Ouch! Shots fired, target annihilated!”

“You’re such a drama queen,” you sigh. You wonder if he notices the quiet fondness in your voice.

He opens his mouth as if to retaliate, but then suddenly shuts it. A look comes over his face as if he’s just remembered something very interesting and important.

“Hey,” he says, and you watch his mouth spread into a smile. “You said you’d wondered if the carpet matched the drapes. That means you definitely imagined me naked at least once.”

And your blush is back.

“What of it?” You huff, cross your arms and looking away. “It’s only natural. I’ve thought of lots of people naked.”

“Do you ever imagine sleeping with me?”

The question causes you to choke on your breath.

“What-why would you ask that?”

“Inquiring minds want to know.”

You take a look at him, standing naked and unashamed in front of you. His smile is different; there’s a sultry edge to it you’ve never seen before.

“Maybe inquiring minds should stuff it,” you stick out your tongue. Immature, but he’s got you feeling all funny now.

“Well, I’ve thought about it,” he says. “I’ve thought about it quite a lot, actually.”

Your heart misses a beat in your chest.

“You have?” Your voice squeaks as you force the words out.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” He asks, tilting his head like a curious puppy.

You consider the question. You’ve got insecurities, but you know you are a decent looking person. And despite his flightiness about many things, Gojo has actually never given you the impression that he’s shallow in that way.

“I don’t know,” you say truthfully. “I guess I just never considered the possibility that you were interested in me in that way.”

He sighs. “Pumpkin, I’m not blind. You are stupidly attractive. Every time we’re out in Tokyo you’ve got a million guys and gals staring at you.”

“I just always assumed they were staring at your and your stupid blindfold,” you scrub at your cheeks with your palms, trying to rid yourself of some of the perplexing confusion you feel swirling inside you. “How come you’ve never made a move?”

“Would you have wanted me to?”

You want to shout at him, to say of course yes a thousand times yes, but you pause. You realize you’ve never given him any signals, any hint that he was more than just your often annoying friend. Sure, you blushed at his silly flirting, but so did lots of people.

You shift back through your interactions, all the missions, the late night hang outs, the strolls through the city. Nowhere can you find any instant where your ever expanding feelings might have risen to the surface. But still, would your seeming indifference deter him? He was a very self assured man, after all.

“You have confidence coming out your ass, it’s hard to believe you wouldn’t make a move anyways, just to see,” you say instead.

His whole demeanor softens. “I didn’t want to fuck anything up.”

Oh.

OH.

And you know exactly what he means. It’s why you’ve never said anything, why you forced your desires deep down into the pit of your being when in his presence.

It seems even the strongest shaman could be afraid of something.

“It’s not just about fucking, is it?” You ask, feeling your whole body start to tremble.

“It was never just about fucking,” he replies, and it’s like the universe explodes before your very eyes. “Why do you think I spend all my free time with you?”

“To annoy me?” You croak feebly. “To eat all my snacks? To enjoy torturing me by spoiling the end to every movie we watch?”

He chuckles. “Just side bonuses. Being with you is the real prize, pumpkin.”

“Oh,” you whisper, and your brain whirs like an overworked laptop. You’re having trouble processing that this is actually happening, that the man you’ve been pining after for what feels like forever is really standing there, confessing his own feelings.

Buck ass naked.

“You’ve got two options right now,” Gojo takes a step closer to you, and you shiver at the dominant aura that suddenly swirls around him. “Either I get dressed and we put today behind us, or I come over there and kiss you until you can’t remember your own name. Make your choice.”

Was there even a choice? There was only one option. A slow, warm feeling blooms in the middle of your chest and spreads outwards, dousing your whole shaking body in molten yearning. It’s not a new feeling, but the sensations are different. Because now you can give in to it.

“Kiss me,” you blurt out, breathless and giddy. “Get the fuck over here and kiss me.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

A flash of a savage grin, the soft thump of footsteps and then you are numb to everything but him.

He tastes like sugary coffee and chapstick, lips hard and hot against yours as he kisses you like he’ll die if he stops. He’s everywhere at once, in all your senses, drowning you in his onslaught of desirous fervour. It’s not a timid kiss of new sweethearts; it’s a passionate embrace of long overdue lovers.

Your hands run over every inch of him they can reach, mapping the ridges and valleys of his exposed skin. His own slip beneath your shirt to spread across your back, crushing you to him with a grip of iron. It’s not enough; you want them everywhere, you want him everywhere, until he’s branded onto your body. Until you no longer know where you end and he begins. Until he’s sunken himself into your very bones.

You need to breathe- you pull away with a gasp, one gossamer thread of saliva lazily trailing after you.

“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” You pant, digging your nails into his arms. He’s unwilling to keep his mouth off you, now pressing scalding kisses along your jaw.

“Blame it on mutual stupidity,” he sighs into your skin, teeth slightly grazing the spot just below your ear. “Let’s make up for lost time, eh?”

“I’m game,” you say, a soft whine leaving your lips as he works steadily on what is sure to become a bruise.

“Good,” he murmurs, swiping his tongue across the blossoming mark before leaning back to smirk at you. “Have to make you take back all your snarky comments about me and my game.”

You giggle. “Oh, so you’re saying it won’t be as dry as a desert ‘round here?”

“Well let me just check tonight’s weather report,” he laughs, grinning cheekily as he slips a hand down between your legs, brushing gently over the front of your underwear. You bite your lip, grip on his biceps tightening.

“Ladies and gentleman, we’re in for a wet night,” he says in what you assume is his best weatherman voice. “Expect a great deal of precipitation, more so than what’s already accumulated. Perhaps we’ll even see some flooding. We’re talking possibly record setting levels here.”

You snort with laughter, pushing at him slightly. “You are such an idiot. Just shut up and put your money where your mouth is.”

“Oh, I intend to put my mouth in a lot of different places,” he removes his hand, snapping the elastic band of your underwear against your hip as he goes. “I know I just got you into these, but shall I undress you now?”

“Yes please,” you nod eagerly, already wiggling out of your shirt. He quickly helps remove the offending garment, but in all the lust and excitement you’ve forgotten about your shoulder, and you moan in pain when you jostle it.

“Owwwwwwie, stupid shoulder!”

“Shhh, pumpkin,” Gojo coos gently, leaning down to pepper the area with kisses. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m going to take such good care of you.”

You feel yourself melt at the sudden tender display, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his luscious hair as he continues to smother your bruised shoulder in affection. “You already are, Satoru.”

The first name slips out unexpectedly, but you like the way it rolls off your tongue. He seems to as well, judging by the pleased noise that rumbles from his chest.

“Well, allow me to continue then,” he purrs, and his lips leave your shoulder to capture yours in another toe curling kiss. You press yourself to him, the feel of his bare skin against yours sending a thrill shooting down your spine.

An idea suddenly pops into your head.

“I never got to finish my shower,” you break your kiss to speak, looking up at him under your lashes.

He catches on immediately, his smile once again turning primal. It makes your knees weak and your gut clench in anticipation.

“Maybe you should help me, since I’m injured and all,” you push yourself even closer to him, shivering at the feeling of his not-so-average excitement pressing against your belly.

“Hmmmm, I could do that,” he’s already got his fingers hooked in your underwear, slowly starting to push them down your hips. “But what if you slip again?”

“Well, you’ll just have to catch me then,” you wink at him. “With your dick.”

He roars with laughter, and your heart has never been more full.

“Oh, I’ll do more than just catch you, pumpkin,” he growls playfully, and before you can blink he’s rid you of your bottoms and swept you up into his arms. “I’m going to absolutely wreck you.”

You reach up to kiss him as he pounds towards the bathroom, your blood on fire and only one thought in your head.

Bless that stupid, slippery, wonderful bar of soap.

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Taglist: @satorudicks @sara-nyaa @dixonsbugaboo @fandomtrash100 @oikusa-snow @okemis @kuxredere @mylittleteddybear @the-fandoms-georgie @inaflashimagine @crapimahuman @elenapri0502 @fragments-of-aria @bollywoodghoul @wrdro @kiasnotforever @disregardedbymybias @lavihs @euniartsu @satjsstuff @lycorizzz @fushigurosimp @levisbrat1 @bxstboy-tetsu @one-leaf-grimoire @glxar (sorry i just tagged everyone who asked and commented haha, bold means I couldn’t tag you sorry!)

[lixiepeach]

Red Moon, Part 24

Summary: Hana’s life was planned out perfectly. She would marry the pack alpha, become Luna and do her duties. But the appearance of a mysterious stranger turns her life inside out she finds herself outcast and alone. Will she find her new home in Chan and his pack of strays? Will she find what she’s been looking for all along in the mysterious alpha? Or will everything crumble under her again?

Warnings: magical stuff, some serious traumatic memories, cheating, light gore, violence, blood, talks of murdering children.

A/N: Hehehehe. Also, 10 million karma to whoever can figure out the reference

Part 23 | MASTERLIST

Hana grips Chan’s hand as they approach the house. BamBam is in front of them, walking with Hyunjin. As soon as Hana had told the pack what she was going to do, Hyunjin had refused to let her do it without him being there. Chan had refused to let her do it, initially, but Hana needed to know. She needed answers, and she couldn’t get them without help. 

BamBam knocks on the door and it swings right open, the four wolves going inside. BamBam greets the older male first, bowing to him. He’s very nice looking for someone who was probably twice her age, once again confirming Hana’s theory that all magical practitioners were beautiful. BamBam introduces them to Jung Ji-Hoon, someone he had met while studying magic as a boy. Hana meets his gaze, realizing he’s staring right at her. 

“It’s been a very long time since I saw you last, Park Hana.” He says, approaching her. 

“You’ve met me before?” 

“Never formally. But I was around your age the last time I saw you. That is the night you wish to remember, I’m assuming.” 

Hana nods. “I can’t remember anything. They all said I was there when my parents died, but I can’t remember any of it.” 

He nods slowly. “I know. That was a strong spell she cast. She did it to save you.” 

“It was magic that made her forget?” Hyunjin asks. 

Ji-Hoon nods. “Yes.” He places a hand on top of Hana’s head for a moment, warmth racing through her before it disappears. “I can undo it. The witch who cast the spell was the one who trained me.” 

“How dangerous is it?” Chan asks, holding Hana’s hand protectively. 

Ji-Hoon smiles at him. “All magic is dangerous. I can perform this successfully, but it will have to be done delicately and with great care.” 

He leads them back into his house. There’s a circle of candles on the floor surrounding a sleeping pad. Hana can see the edges of symbols under the pad, her stomach starting to twist nervously. It would be worth it. 

“Here.” Ji-Hoon hands her a mug of brown liquid. “This will help relax your body and your mind. The less you can move and resist, the less there is that can go wrong.” He turns to the three other wolves, motioning to the bench in the corner. “If you are insistent on staying in the room, you can sit there. There must be rules in place for you. There can be no interruptions. No matter what happens, you cannot stop this once I’ve started. Attempting to stop it could damage her mind at the very least, or kill her.” He looks at Chan pointedly. 

Chan swallows the lump in his throat, nodding. He was glad for the two other wolves beside him. He kisses Hana one more time, holding her for a moment. “I’m right here.” 

She nods, squeezing his hand before laying down on the sleeping pad as Ji-Hoon directs. The candles around the bed light with a wave of his hand, Hana taking a deep breath. She begins to feel drowsy as Ji-Hoon kneels over her head. She feels sleepy and warm, her body relaxing. 

“You can feel it now, yes?” Ji-Hoon asks, Hana only able to grunt in response, her brain fogging as the magic relaxes her. 

“I’m going to start now.” Ji-Hoon places his hands on her head. “No matter what happens, I cannot stop.” 

Hana feels a pressure start to build in her head. It’s uncomfortable, feeling like her brain is being compressed. The pressure is pulsing behind her eyes with the beat of her heart, slow and steady. Her body jerks as something pokes at her brain, digging its way in. She can feel it, searching its way through until it hits the wall blocking the memories. Hana’s body jerks again as it begins digging, the energy working its way through the wall, breaking it down piece by piece. 

Hana gasps, body tensing like a board as the wall gives, her eyes flying open but she’s not in Ji-Hoon’s house anymore. 

********

“What do you expect me to do?” Youngjae’s father yells. “She’s killing our pack.” 

“You don’t know that.” Hana’s father says, unfazed by the angry alpha. “We have no proof the witch is responsible for anything that’s happened. We’ve had a dry winter and spring. Of course the crops are dying. It’s the hottest year we’ve had in seventy years. You need to start considering that maybe we can’t be as self-sufficient as you want us to be.” 

“The witch has something to do with this. She’s cursed us.” 

“You don’t know that.” Hana’s father says. “Other packs in the area could be having the same problems but we wouldn’t know because you insisted on cutting us off from everyone!” 

“Because we can’t trust them! We can’t trust anyone but ourselves!” 

“Those packs are not a danger to us! We once had a treaty with them, we can do it again. If they wanted to attack us, they would have already.” 

“No! We have to think about the good of the pack.” 

“I am. We cannot continue on this way.” 

“There is no other way!” 

“Rest, Dae-Jung. I will tell the council there is no decision yet.” 

“You will not.” The alpha’s voice rings through the house. “I have made my decision. We will hunt the witch.” 

“I cannot stand by and let this happen. You want to kill an innocent woman over claims that have no proof?”

“She is a witch. She is hardly innocent.” 

“Magical practitioners are not evil. Yes, there are bad ones, but she has never come into our territory, never openly threatened us. She has no reason to have done this. You need to start thinking of other things that could be causing this to happen instead of blaming it on something you are irrationally afraid of. Dae-Jung, you're sounding mad. The council will not approve.” 

“They will approve because I am their alpha and the do as I say.” 

Hana’s father shakes his head, turning towards the door. “I will not let you do this.” 

“I know.” Youngjae’s father says, stopping her father in his tracks, hand on the doorknob. “I know the truth. Three years ago you would not have stood against me in this. You would have gladly hunted with me. But yet you protect this witch. I know why. I know Bora is not Hana’s mother.” 

Her father stiffens. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“She’s already starting to show signs. I can see it in her. As Pack Alpha-” 

“No!” Hana’s father roars, turning on his alpha. “You will not lay a hand on my child.” 

“I have no choice. Our laws are strict for a reason. She is a danger and I have to put the safety of the pack as priority.” 

“You’re speaking of murdering a child!” 

“She’s no child. She’s a monster.” 

“You speak of murdering an innocent child who has caused no one harm. Who is the monster here?” 

“Get out of my way.” 

“No.” Her father stands nose to nose with his alpha. “I will not allow you to threaten my family.” 

“Associating yourself with witchcraft is a crime. I have no choice. Don’t make me do this.” Youngjae’s father pleads. 

“You threaten my family openly. You spit claims with no evidence. Who is going to believe you? Hana is my child. There is no doubting that.” 

“But can you prove she is also Bora’s? When she gets older, when she begins to show her true self? How will those claims hold up then? I have to do what’s best for the pack.” Youngjae’s father goes to step around her father, but he shoves him back. 

“I cannot let you kill my daughter.” 

“Please.” Youngjae’s father pleads. “For the pack.” 

Her father refuses to move, digging his heels in as Youngjae’s father lunges at him, sending him backwards through the door. 

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

Noises are exploding around her. She’s crying, clinging to the stuffed bear in her arms. There’s blood on it, but it’s not hers. She’s held tightly to someone’s chest. They smell like flowers. It’s a comforting scent. A familiar scent. The woman holding her is running, breath ragged as she pushes herself forward. 

Two wolves are fighting, growling and snapping, going for each other’s throats. The smaller wolf is at a disadvantage, blood soaking his white coat from scratches and bites that mar his body. 

“Dae-Jung! No!” A woman screams. 

There’s a harsh yelp, the woman holding her faltering for just a moment. She races towards the trees to the figure standing just on the edge of the forest. 

“Please.” The woman holding her pleads. “You have to take her. He’s going to kill her.” 

There’s a second of hesitation before she’s removed from the woman’s arms, her tiny hands reaching out towards the smaller woman. 

“Momma!” She calls, reaching out for the woman as she backs away. A tear slides down her face before she turns, running back towards the fight. 

Her mother shifts, grey coat shining in the firelight. She jumps between the two wolves, going for the larger tan wolf. It all happens so fast, the large wolf hitting her mother instead of her father. There’s a cry that dies into a whimper, then to nothing. Her mother’s body is still on the ground, the entire clearing silent. 

Her father is shaky as he rises, hackles raised, teeth bared in rage. The tan wolf takes a step back in warning. If her father attacks, he won’t have a choice. Her father doesn’t heed that warning, going right for the tan wolf’s throat. The larger wolf is faster, teeth sinking into her father’s throat first. A spray of blood flies through the air before her father’s body goes limp, the skin of his throat dropping from the mouth of the tan wolf. 

Hana is crying, clutching to the woman that’s holding her. The woman is shaking in rage, the hand that’s not holding her raising, a blinding light erupting from her. 

“You are a fool, Dae-Jung. For the innocent blood you have spilled tonight there will be a curse upon this land and your family. If you kill this child your pack will die. You will suffer and rot slowly until the very last wolf dies. Your ground will yield no crops. You will be cut off, alone and helpless to the plague that will burn through your pack killing every last wolf pup left. This child is the only one that can break that curse. Kill her, you consign yourselves to death.” 

The tan wolf bares his teeth, letting out a deep growl at the witch. 

“Sweet child.” The woman whispers as the tan wolf stalks towards them. “My sweet child. You will find your way to the one you are meant to be with. Whether in this life or the next. Sleep. It will all be over shortly.” Hana feels sleepy, the bloodied bear dropping from her arms as she slips into darkness. 

The woman turns, barely having set her down before she’s pulled into the clearing by Youngjae’s father. The witch puts up a fight but she is outnumbered, the council members and Youngjae’s father ripping her apart. 

Youngjae’s father turns to a sleeping Hana, his bloodied face wracked with sadness and pity as he stalks over to her. 

“Stop!” A voice cries out, the same one that had screamed earlier. Youngjae’s mother. The pack Luna is standing between Hana and Youngjae’s father, her own husband. 

Youngjae’s father seems shocked at this, even the council startled by the omega’s boldness to come between her alpha and his duties. Youngjae’s father shifts back into his human form, the wolves behind him stepping back out of respect. 

“You have no right.” Youngjae’s father says. 

“Neither did you. You killed her parents because they interfered. She’s a child, Dae. She hasn’t even shifted yet. You have no reason to go murdering an innocent child simply because of the actions of her parents. You heard the curse the witch placed upon this pack. If you kill this child, you kill the pack. I am your Luna. I have every right to disagree with you. You’ve spilled enough blood tonight. Let the child live for the good of the pack. ” 

Youngjae’s father looks conflicted. “What if the witch was bluffing? What if there is no curse and she simply made us think so to save the life of her child? I cannot let the girl live. She goes against our very laws.” 

“No one knows but us. No one else has to know.” 

“Then what do you supposed we do? If she grows up and remembers?” 

“Then we will have to face those consequences when they arrive. We will raise her. Tell everyone it was an accident that killed the Parks. She will marry Youngjae when they are older to keep her in the pack. Keep the pack from dying.” 

“What if Youngjae finds his mate?” 

“Then she will marry another. Her survival is key. For the good of the pack.” 

Youngjae’s father steps up to his wife, looking at her long and hard for a moment before nodding. “For the good of the pack.” 

**********

“Chan!” Hana is screaming, sobs leaving her lips as she reaches for her alpha. The pain in her head is intense, body shaking as she cries. BamBam and Hyunjin let him go as Ji-Hoon gives the okay, letting him go to his Luna.

“I’m here.” Chan takes her hand. “I’m right here.”

“He killed them!” She sobs, brain replaying the memories over and over. “He killed my parents!” 

**********

Hana sits on the couch, curled into Chan’s side. There’s a mug of tea in her hands, a blanket tucked around her. Hyunjin is pressed against her other side, BamBam sitting next to him. Ji-Hoon is standing in front of the fire, watching the flames. 

“Your father met Yu-Jun by accident.” He starts. “Four years before that night. He was patrolling the borders at night, and she was out picking herbs near the territory line. Any of the others would have taunted her, chased her even. But he didn’t. He fell in love. They met in secret in the dead of night, not only because he was already mated, but because she was a witch. I had been with her since I was a boy. She had taken me in when I first began showing signs and taught me. I remember her leaving at night, sneaking off and then returning early. I followed her one night, I saw them together. She knew you would be a wolf as soon as she knew she was pregnant. Wolf genes are dominant, any child born of a wolf will be a wolf, regardless of the other parent.She thought it would be safer for you to be with a pack, so she sent you with your father. Bora, your father’s mate, had been ill. She blamed it on the pregnancy, faked that you were hers to keep you safe. Yu-Jun didn’t think Dae-Jung would be able to tell so soon. She thought you would have time, perhaps you would grow without that part of her.” 

Ji-Hoon moves away from the fire, taking a seat in the chair across from them. He looks at her for a long moment, tears still falling down her cheeks. 

“I was there that night. Your father had planned it all. He knew Dae-Jung was becoming suspicious of him. Of you. He was going to take you and Bora and leave the pack. He had planned it. Dae-Jung was getting increasingly paranoid. He blamed their woes on Yu-Jun. The entire valley was feeling the effects of that year, though. Your father had planned to have Bora sneak away with Yu-Jun in case things went wrong. He didn’t know Dae-Jung already knew. That he was planning on killing you. Your father didn’t have a choice. Anything he could do to give Bora more time to escape. Any chance he could give you to survive. But things went very wrong. She told me not to interfere. Things had to play out the way they were meant to. I hated her for commanding that of me. I wanted to kill him for killing Yu-Jun, but I knew I couldn’t reveal myself. It would have been a death sentence. I knew you would be safe. Dae-Jung and his Luna would take you in, raise you. I knew Yu-Jun had blocked those memories, suppressed anything that could reveal your true heritage to keep you safe.” 

Ji-Hoon gets up, digging through a drawer in the side table for a moment. Hana tries to process everything. It all made sense to her now. Why Youngjae’s parents had been so eager to raise her, why everyone had been so insistent she marry Youngjae, and then Dong-Ho. It hadn’t been for her. It had never been for her. It had always been for the pack. 

“Here.” Ji-Hoon hands Chan a picture frame, Chan handing it to her. 

She lets out a choked sob. Youngjae’s mother had given her a photo of her parents when she was young. It was the only memory she had of them. The photo in her hands now is of her real parents: her father and the witch. Everything she knew had been a lie. They had lied to her, her whole life they had lied to her. Part of her is glad Youngjae’s parents are dead. 

“Keep it.” Ji-Hoon says as Hana goes to hand the picture back. “I don’t know why I kept it all these years. Well, I know now why I kept it.” 

“Thank you.” Hana says, tucking the picture frame against her chest. “For everything. For doing this. I don’t...I don’t know what I expected to be hidden.” 

“No one does. I’m sorry yours had to be so traumatic.” 

“I’m glad I know now. I needed to know.” 

*******

Chan walks Hana back towards the car, BamBam saying his goodbyes to Ji-Hoon. Hana is still shaken, the memories fresh on her mind and she knows they’re going to stay that way. She wants to sleep, wants to ignore the mess of emotions flooding through her. She wants to cry again, she wants to shift and run away, she wants to find Mountainside again and tell Youngjae, make the council members pay for everything they had done. But most of all, she wants to be close to Chan. She wants her alpha to wrap her in his arms and keep her away from the horrible things going through her mind. 

Ji-Hoon grabs Hyunjin’s shoulder before he can step off the porch, leaning in close to the young beta’s ear. “If it starts to happen,” he slips a piece of paper into Hyunjin’s hand. “Don’t hesitate to call me.” 

NEXT

[heyheyloki]

Bulletproof

Summary: Derek comes back from a case were he got shot in his bullet-proof vest. 

Derek Morgan x M!Reader

Word Count: 1332

You knew he would be okay, but you couldn’t help but worry like every other case. You knew the risks of being out on the field and so did he. It was a dangerous job, but you understood why he did it. Honestly, you really couldn’t see him do any other profession. 

Personally, you couldn’t handle a job like that. So much death and sadness, it was way too much for your brain to handle. So, you helped from the sidelines with Penelope. You were good at what you did, hell, you were close to Garcia when it came to that skill-set that was vital to the team.

This case to you was just icky in general, the unsub was a cruel and twisted son of a bitch. You thought about any angle you could, were he would go, what he would do. It was safe to say that the team relied on you with that kind of instinct since you also had the skill-set of a profiler close to Rossi and Spencer when it came to accuracy. Though, today, it seemed like your fatal mistake was not counting in the factor of how he would go out. When you learned he went out shooting, you didn’t flinch. It happened once in a while, but no one got hurt. 

Your other mistake. How close your team would be to the unsub when they got to the guy. This time they didn’t have car doors to shield themselves with or the upper-hand in the situation. This time, they were close and they were huddled together. When you had gotten word that the suspect shoot his gun, unfazed. When you got the word that he had shot Derek Morgan, your boyfriend, your body went cold. 

Your thoughts were racing at millions of miles an hour. Your shoes clanking onto the tile floor with hard, running steps as you ran to Derek’s office. In the doorway, you began to catch your breath as you made sure to paint his image in your mind. He was alive. He was breathing. He was okay. 

“H-Hey.” You called out as you gasped for air. 

He turned around swiftly as soon as your voice rang in his ears. 

You noticed he was holding onto his stomach, your lips frowning automatically. You walked up to him, his body leaning against his desk as it seemed he was physically weaker than normal after a case. Your worries grew and it showed in your voice when you said, “When did you get back? No one told me when you all got back, only that you got shot.”

He held his free hand up to you in a calming manner, telling you to slow down before he worded out calmly, “I’m fine.”

You stared in disbelief, complete panic rushing through you as you ranted out, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t take into account so many other factors that I normally do and it got you hurt. Like, shot in the stomach hurt.”

He stared up at you, his gaze calm and comfortable as they rested on your face. “Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. I got shot in my bulletproof vest, baby boy. It’s just a couple bruises, it’s okay.”

You gave him a still expression for a moment, your eyes bouncing from his eyes to his stomach over and over again. “It’s not a bulletproof vest if you get hurt. It’s bullet resistant.”

He let a small smile fall on his lips at your words before his hand reached down to the bottom of his shirt, his hand moving up next to his handsome face while his shirt followed suit. Seriously, this man should seriously stop being unpredictable. It’s gonna give you a heart attack one of these days.

“I am just fine.” He hummed out, his voice a bit more teasing than comforting. “See? It’s just a couple of bruises.”

It was true that there was no bullet wounds necessarily, but the white bandage that wrapped around his body and covered his abs wasn’t exactly convincing you it was ‘just a couple of bruises’ either.

“You’re such a bad liar.” You hissed out, watching as his small smile turned into one of those brightly lit ones just at the sound of your voice. You sighed, letting him have this one but also taking something for yourself as you admired his body. You always did tend to praise him about in shape he was, and let’s say that it gave him such a massive ego boost that he couldn’t stop talking about it for a straight week. 

You raised your hand up and allowed your finger tips to brush against the white fabric. “How long do you have to be all wrapped up like this?”

“I don’t know.” He sang out as you missed his other hand that slowly snaked towards your waist. “A few days, maybe.”

“Okay,” you hummed, taking a final deep breath in and out.

“You relaxed now?” He questioned honestly.

“Yeah, I’m relaxed.” You confirmed. “Hey, if you need someone to help change the bandages or whatever, I’m here.”

Your words were meant in a kind way, nothing suggestive behind your tone of voice at all to suggest otherwise. Still, Derek had his way of twisting it into what he wish he heard. With a swift movement, he pulled you closer, his strong hand resting on your lower back. A small gasp left your lips as you gazed down at the smiling man, his eyes loving and playful as they danced with your own. 

“I’m glad your okay.” You said, your words tugging on Derek’s heart strings more than you would ever know.

“Hey, I know you don’t like what I do, but I’m always safe. I’ll always be safe, for you.” He said, his truthful words casting a spell on your body.

Slowly, you started to lean down. You watched as Derek’s eyes fluttered close, waiting patiently for you to move closer to his lips. You could feel your lover’s lips brush against yours, his minty breath hitting your sense of smell like a truck. As much as you wanted to give him one of your famous welcome back kisses, you just wanted to make sure you weren’t dreaming. It got to you more than you let on, seriously, if you ever made a mistake like that again and someone actually got hurt or worse, died, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. And if it just so happened to be Derek, you would be more than heartbroken. It would be like a part of you died with him, a part that you would never be able to recover. 

Just as you were about to give both you and him what you were waiting for, a voice entered your hearing.

“Hey, you guys--oh!”

You quickly separated from Derek, and while you wanted to take a step back, his hand wouldn’t let you. Seriously, maybe you should get a bit stronger so you can get away in situations like this. Both of you turned your gaze from each other to JJ who stood near the door.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” She hummed out as she stared between Derek and you with a surprised look in her eyes. It was noted that Derek and you never usually interact like a couple when it’s working hours, some mild flirting here and there, sure, but nothing like this.

“You’re fine,” you uttered under your breath as your gaze moved around more than a bouncy ball in a small room. 

JJ smirked as she and Derek exchanged joyous glances. “Hotch wants us at the round table.”

Both Derek and you watched as JJ gave a closed lipped smile before walking out, leaving the both of you alone again. Derek took this as his chance to steal a quick kiss from you before letting you got and walking out, you following behind him with a heated face and sweaty palms. Seriously, this dude kept you on your toes so much you have no idea what you’re gonna do with him.

[i-rely-on-you]

Never Alone

She could see Rosalind standing there in the light of the flames beneath her. The roaring fire casting shadows over the woman making her appear to be even more fanatic than she already was.  

Farah could see the fire burning and the embers that were once the foundation of a whole city crumbling under the weight of the blaze that was Rosalinds destruction.  

The woman in question had heard her approach and turned her head to the side eyeing her menacingly. The grin on the older woman’s face positively feral. “Farah I am so glad you could join us.” her old mentor sneered.  

She couldn’t say anything, she had no words to say, no air to form them and breathe them into life. She felt suffocated. The smoke billowing up from the ashes of the destroyed city at her feet.  

But it wasn’t a city at all. The ruins shifted beneath her watchful eyes and turned into her beloved school. Alfea lay crumbled at their feet, it’s carcass spewing flames into the night.  

A voice pulled her out of her horrid observation.  

“Why don’t you come join us by the fire Farah. It is so nice and warm. Isn’t it darling?” with that the older woman turned fully towards her revealing herself to Farah.  

The sight had her blood running cold. Her breathing stopped and she couldn’t do so much as let out a silent cry.  

There in Rosalinds arms was her daughter.  

She was covered in soot, a dirty nappy being the only thing she had on for clothes. The once white cloth soiled with fluids she couldn’t name and burned in places.  

Her face was puffy and red, covered in blotches and what appeared to be blistering skin all across her tiny body.  

Her beautiful grey stormy eyes usually so much like her fathers were dull and lifeless, filled with tears.  

Farah couldn’t scream. There was not a single noise coming out of her open mouth. All she could do was look at her baby girl in the arms of her greatest nightmare.  

She felt tears running down her face, dripping to the dry ground beneath her as she crumbled to her knees. Reaching out her arms in a silent cry she tried to get closer to her daughter but with each foot she managed to crawl, they seemed to get farther and farther away until it looked like they were hovering over the raging fire eating up the ruins beneath them.  

Rosalind watched her crawl and her smile got even wider splitting her face at the corners of her mouth revealing sharp black teeth littering her charred gums. She let out a sinister sounding howl like a belting laugh.  

“Why so sour dear. We are having fun. Come join us in the fire Farah.” she boomed before they plummeted into the flames below. Rosalinds echoing laughter the only sound she could hear and suddenly there was another noise.

It was terrible and heart wrenching. It was a sobbing scream, choking up on its tears before they could fully form.  

With a start she shot up in bed, a scream dying on her lips. Her sobs heaving her body, making her choke on her own breath. Trying to gulp air into her lungs through the burning tears and snivelling of her nose, another scream clawed it’s way up her throat. And suddenly all the air left in her lungs got released and she screamed out loud, her power shattering everything in her near vicinity. Potted plants exploding sending dirt and soil everywhere. Glasses, vases and bowls shattering into a million pieces and being flung from the places they had stood.  

An energy field around her building up so fast it pushed her from her bed sending her tumbling to the floor with the force of it.  

And with the sharp pain of glass shards sinking into her skin she suddenly came back to herself. Looking around wildly Farah felt her lungs burning as they were filling with gulping breaths again. Noticing movement to her left she looked into the direction of the foot of the bed where Saul was crawling out from his crouched position behind the bed post.  

His hair was disheveled and he had a small cut on his cheek that led a small trail of blood down his face. He looked at her with big eyes trying to gauge her reaction and started to crawl toward her on all fours. Once he reached her side he touched her carefully not to move too abruptly. Laying his hand on her arm he took her raised hands and pulled them down so he could move into her body, encompassing her form in his.  

Her sobs wrecked her body in big convulsing tremors shaking her whole frame. Saul pulled her more into himself so that she was sitting in his lap heaving and crying and silently screaming into his shoulder. Her mouth was hanging open but no words would leave her lips. He had his hand in her hair, soothing noises passing through the air between them as he tried to shush her, rocking them from side to side gently. His other hand had wound itself around her back, rubbing soft circles into her heated flesh.  

She felt clammy and feverish to the touch and she was sweating profusely, her forehead covered in a thin sheen of sweat, her shirt sticking to her body.  

Slowly words started to register in her mind and she realised, it was Saul who was murmuring in her ear. “It’s alright Farah. I got you. Shhh Farah it’s alright I’m here. Shhh sweetheart breathe with me shhh breathe Farah. Breathe with me.” At that Farah tried to concentrate on his breathing, as he was leading an example for her to follow. It didn’t take long for her breathing to regulate itself into a semi normal rhythm again. Her breath puffing out of her in strong gasps while Saul was still rocking them from side to side. Whispering sweet nothings into her ear and encouraging her to breathe with him still. “That’s it darling just breathe with me, breathe. That’s it.”  

He stroked his hand down her back making her register the cold and wet state of her shirt still clinging to her back. It was making her shiver while small sobs where still rocking her body from time to time. Pushing herself away from him a little she looked into his huge eyes scanning her face for injuries. His hands coming up to stroke her face and pushing her hair out of her eyes to get a better view of her. “Are you alright?” he breathed across her face making her relish in the warm breeze. Nodding she lowered her forehead to his T-shirt clad chest and rested her head there for a moment. Feeling him grasp her head in both of his hands, fingers carding through her tangled hair, he took ahold of her and pressed his face into her crown kissing her where his lips met her scalp.

They just sat there and breathed, calming themselves for a moment, synchronising their breathing to each other’s heart beat coming down from their high together.  

“I couldn’t wake you.” he murmured it so softly into her hair she still winced when the words hit her ears. “I couldn’t do anything you had your shield up before I could even scramble out of the bed fully.” she let out a pained moan but he hushed her immediately. “I wanted to grab you but I wasn’t fast enough dear, I’m so sorry. You were building so fast I just wasn’t quick enough.” Shaking her head she dislodged herself from his grasp and looked into his soulful eyes. The depth in his grey orbs so deep, she wanted to lose herself in them but she took his face in her own hands and shook her head again before kissing him on the mouth, silencing him. She peppered his face with tiny loving pecks, kissing anywhere she could reach in slow deliberate touches. It wasn’t sexual but more of a reassuring manner. He was here. He got her out. It was alright. They made it.  

She stopped kissing him. Stilling her movements slowly she put her forehead to his again, just breathing with him in their shared space her legs still entangled with his, where he had pulled her over him in the desperate attempt to feel her close.  

There were shards of glass sticking to their bodies at odd places and mud caking their legs where they had crawled towards each other but they didn’t care. They clung to each other like their lives depended on it.  

Maybe they did.  

She pushed herself away from him again, eyes wild, a thought striking her in that moment. “Fae!” Scrambling to her feet Farah got up on shaky legs trying to stand. Saul reached for her again, trying to halt her in her movement. “She’s fine Farah she’s sleeping.” His words coming out rushed she could hear the sincerity in them but she had to make sure. “I need to see her!” Farah stumbled, her legs not fully supporting her weight yet, having sat in that crouched position on the cold floor for so long. Saul having scrambled to his feet as soon as she had tried to get up was next to her in an instant winding his arms around her middle keeping her steady. Pulling her to his body, holding her close, helping her settle her feet beneath her in some form of order. Setting one foot in front of the other with her he helped her walk the distance to the adjacent room. “Steady dear we’re almost there. I got you love.” He breathed into her hair as he was trying to keep her upright. Walking shakily like a newborn foal she managed to grasp the doorframe leading to the next door nursery.  

Upon entering the room her eyes fell on the crib and the infant peacefully sleeping in her closed off bubble, which her mother created for her each evening to keep noises from the outside from reaching her sensitive ears.  

Her spell had done it’s job marvellously seeing as the baby was still slumbering, blissfully unaware of the destruction having taken place next door.  

Seeing her daughter made Farah blow out a harsh breath she had been holding. Saul managed to get her close to the bassinet before she sagged in on herself again lowering her body to the floor in front of the wooden bars. Reaching her trembling hand through her own spell she stroked one tiny finger of the curled up hand lying closest to her.  

The baby didn’t even stir at the touch. Her little chest rising and falling with her strong breathing. The smell of clean and warm infant permeating the air. That unmistakable baby scent calming Farah’s nerves instantly. Dropping her head to the bars she grasped onto the wood with both her hands before turning back around, sinking into the waiting arms of her lover.  

Saul knew of the terrors that plagued his partners mind. Knew of the destruction she had seen and lived through. He had been there with her when it happened. But as much as he loved their daughter he didn’t think he could even fathom what Farah must’ve gone through before they were able to defeat Rosalind. The pain and fear she must’ve felt. Not knowing if her unborn child growing within her would even see the light of day. Living each day in fear of losing her to her mortal enemy.  

The day they had killed their old mentor was the day Farah had started to breathe again. Had started to live again. A life without fear. A life without having to look over her shoulder every single moment expecting that monster to be there to take her happiness away in an instant.  

The woman coming apart in his arms right now had lived through hell before they had been able to bring down Rosalind for good. And it had taken its toll on her. The emotional scarring still very much visible on Farah.  

This was the first time a nightmare had shaken her this badly, had her magic spike so unawares of its owner before. Had taken her so much by surprise.  

He stroked her hair out of her tear stained face and made her look at him before speaking softly to her, “Let’s get cleaned up huh? Up you go, come on.” And with that he pulled her up to her feet before half carrying half pushing her towards their en suite bathroom.  

Upon entering he switched on the lights, bathing them in the harsh brightness of the small room. He navigated the spent woman in his arms to the edge of the tub where he set her down gently before taking her cold hands in his own, kissing them softly. Kneeling there in front of her, up close, he could see the dark circles under her eyes making her appear even more haunted than she already was. He placed one of his hands on her cheek making her look at him, trying to get her to focus on his face. “We’re going to get cleaned up and then we are crashing in the nursery for the night, how does that sound?” Catching her eye he waited for her to nod her approval of his plan before he began undressing her slowly and carefully as not to spook her further.  

When she was fully undressed he reached behind her to turn on the shower to a warm temperature, as warm as he could stand it and shucked his own clothes quickly. Taking her by the hands again he helped her get into the shower and turned her back into the spray of water letting her melt into his front. He began to clean her hair and massaged her scalp with her shampoo and conditioner before carefully soaping her whole body up being mindful of little cuts as he went. When he was done with her he turned her around and away from him to face the spray for a second to clean himself up very quickly. He would’ve been concerned at her silence if it wasn’t for the fact that she seemed to enjoy the shower immensely. Humming to herself as her body warmed up under the steady flow of water.  

As soon as he finished cleaning himself he turned her around gently again and shut off the water.  

Helping her step out of the shower he grabbed a clean fluffy towel from the nearby stand and wrapped her up quickly before pulling another towel off the rack for himself. He wrapped his towel around his waist quickly and started to rub at her shoulders gently. When he was satisfied and thought her dry enough he lead her by the hand to take a seat on the little sofa in the baby’s room. He waited until she had sat down on the cushions before he crouched down at her eye level. “Are you still cold?” he inquired lowly regarding her intently. Shaking her head negative she replied with a low but steady “No.” giving him a soft smile. Seeing this made him smile softly in return before he started whispering “I will get us something to sleep in very quickly alright? You just sit here and look at her okay?” He nodded in the direction of the crib next to them making her follow his line of vision before settling on their daughter again.  

Putting a hand out to balance on the edge of the bars she smiled at their daughter still sleeping peacefully.  

He waited for her nod before he ventured into the battlefield that was their bedroom to gather comfortable clothes for them to sleep in. In less than twenty seconds he was back at her side and dropped a few articles of sleepwear onto the couch next to her. He took the towel she was still clutching to her chest from her hands and began to dress her carefully. Taking the towel to softly massage any residual water out of her dripping hair he finished his work with a kiss to her nose making her wrinkle it up in amusement.  

He noticed the look in her eyes had changed from that far away stare to something resembling deep and pure contentment. Dropping a kiss to her head he stepped back a little to pull on a soft pair of flannels and a T-shirt before taking both their towels and throwing them into the hamper in the corner of the room.  

Motioning for her to lie down on the couch he took the blanket draped over the back of said furniture to lay across her body. Once settled he asked quietly “Want me to get her?”  

Smiling lovingly she nodded, a twinkle in her eyes showing how much she wanted to hold their daughter right now.  

Saul went over to the bassinet and stroked their little girls head softly before reaching down to pick her up carefully.  

Bringing her over he set her down in her mother’s arms gingerly before lowering himself to the couch slowly. Taking the corner of the blanket he draped it around them like a cocoon, their little bundle of joy already having fallen back asleep between them.  

Saul had placed himself on the edge of the sofa with his back toward the door as if shielding his little family with his broad shoulders.  

Farah relished in the fact that this attentive man had chosen her as his partner. Looking up at him with a grateful expression on her face she was about to tell him how much she loved him for taking care of her when he reached across their daughter to curl a strand of hair behind her ear, fixing her with a look of utter devotion. Scooting closer he put his face as close to hers as the little body between them would allow before saying “I love you Farah.” He had said it so softly it almost brought tears to her eyes.  

Pulling their daughter closer to her chest she reached out one hand to settle it on his chest before quietly responding “There are no words in this realm suitable enough to describe how much I love you Saul.”  

Giving her a broad smile of his own he inched a little closer to peck her on the forehead softly, snaking his arm across her ribs, creating a small tent for their infant child. His other arm wormed it’s way under Farah’s neck so that his biceps made up a soft pillow to lay her head on.  

Laying like this Farah could relax fully, body and soul. The soft breathing of her baby and the strong heartbeat of her love under her palm making her close her eyes drowsily.  

Yes, it was true.  

She was one of the most powerful fairies in all of Solaria. If not the whole of the Otherworld. But lying here like this on the edge of slumber, made her realise again how insignificant her powers really were in comparison to the love and strength of the man lying with her.  

Without him she would not have made it this far. She would’ve perished at the hands of their old tormenter. She would have failed a thousand times over had it not been for him. Her anchor to this world. Her faith in life. Her hope.  

They would be alright. She could see it now.  

She knew this for a fact because of him. Her love.  

He would catch her if she fell and pick her back up again no matter how often she stumbled.  

And she would give him all her love in return.  

For as long as he would have her.  

For eternity.  

fin

@chibsytelford guuuuuurl I went full on masochist in this one 🙈

[thdorkmagnet]

Moments in a New World

Hey everyone!! Happy one year anniversary of the “Cleaved” finale and belated Starco day!!! Can't believe it's already been a year! It's still so fresh in my mind it might as well have been yesterday. Star vs has been a huge part of my life for five years now and I hope it continues to be well into the future and that others continue to like and enjoy this series and the fans who help keep it alive and kicking!!

Anyways, I have a little something here for the occasion that I hope and think you'll like. Just a sappy, fluffy Starco story about their lives after the finale. You know the drill. So now I'll leave you to it!! Please enjoy!!

Disclaimer: Star vs and all its characters belong to Daron Nefcy and Disney. All rights go to them.

More post-Earthni fics: Marco's Birthday Blowup Blast, Starco Wedding

One Minute After Cleaving

Star and Marco stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, standing mere inches apart as their eyes gleamed with love and unparalleled joy as they were reunited once more. The world only consisted of the two of them, the sounds of chaos drowned out in the background, their new collided world an afterthought for the young couple, all that mattered was that they were together again, face to face, able to get lost in each other's shimmering eyes. The two had been completely silent save for a simple greeting, both teens too chocked up to produce any word more than “Hey” or “Hi”.

But finally it was as if the spell was broken, Marco inexplicably flinging his arms around the girl, bringing her into a tight hug that he never wanted to end, burying his head into her shoulder as his body shook with relief.

“Marco,” Star whispered out, surprised by the boy's sudden action.

“I thought I-” the hooded teen began, his voice choked and tight, like he was fighting back tears with every word, his grip on Star's small frame tightening. “I thought you were- you were-” Marco let out a shaky breath, unable to even finish the horrifying sentence.

“Shhh,” Star soothed, rubbing her arms up and down his back as tears gently dripped from her blue orbs. “It's okay. I'm here, I've got you and I'm never letting you go again.”

Marco let out what sounded like a cross between a chuckle and a sob as tears now ran down his own cheeks, dripping onto his girlfriend's shoulder, though neither of them cared. “Please don't ever scare me like that again.”

Star giggled before sniffing, finally pulling away as she rubbed tears out of her eyes with the back of her hand. “I won't. Trust me that was probably the most afraid I've ever been in my life!”

“More afraid than that time you got stuck inside of Toffee?” Marco asked, a smile on his face despite the red swelling in his eyes and the tearstains on his cheeks.

Star nodded. “Definitely... but it's a close second.”

The two shared a laugh together, letting all the anxiety and worry that had been plaguing them melt off until only their love remained. Finally, Marco paused, staring thoughtfully at the ground, before meeting his girlfriend's eye again, whispering under his breath, “I love you.”

Star smiled softly at her Marco, repeating in a chocked tone, “I love you, too.”

Then, without warning, Marco moved in for a kiss, catching Star's lips between his own as he poured every inch of his heart and self into the simple affectionate act. Star smiled against him, before closing her eyes and letting it deepen, a spark rising up in her as she cherished this precious moment with the love of her life and Marco happily doing the same. While all around them, the two worlds of Earth and Mewni collided into a beautiful chaos, as the first day of a new world began.

One Day After Cleaving

Star and Marco sat side by side on the couch in the Diaz's living room, as they stared blankly at the TV, watching as the news crew filmed random situations happening all over Earthni: an apartment complex covered in webs from a giant spider, warnicorns and piggoats blocking traffic on busy crossroads, giant Monster footprints crushing poor Principal Skeeves's car. And there were many, many more of these images, all accompanied by the confused ramblings of a startled news crew, struggled to make sense of it all, stuttering out halfhearted explanations and theories. Eventually, Eclipsa appeared on the screen, providing an explanation for this bizarre new world that had been formed, speaking clearly and calmly into the microphone being offered her by a wide-eyed news anchor, who kept casting weary glances at Globgore, who stood at his wife's side. 

Star bit her lip, letting out a low groan as she slumped over some on the couch. Marco looked over to his girlfriend with a puzzled look, before spotting the worry etched into her features and asked, “Hey, you want me to turn this off?”

“What's the point?” Star mumbled out, crossing her arms in front of her chest. 

Marco, sensing how serious this all was picked up the remote and turned off the TV before directing his full attention onto his girlfriend. “Star, c'mon talk to me, what's wrong?”

Star sighed, before giving her boyfriend a lost look, saying brokenheartedly, “I don't know, it just feels like we made things worse instead of better.”

“Do you... regret what we did?” Marco asked nervously, not quite sure if he could stand knowing the answer.

Star shook her head. “No. I'm glad we did what we did,” the blond stated no hesitation in her tone as she gave her boyfriend a small smile. But it quickly turned to a sad frown as she added, “I guess I just thought destroying the magic would fix everything. But things are just as crazy now as they were before, maybe even crazier! How are we gonna fix this?”

Marco put a hand on his girlfriend's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze as he smiled reassuringly down at her. “We'll figure it out, we always do.”

“Uh, did you not see the news report, Marco,” Star asked sarcastically. “Everyone is freaking out!”

Marco laughed, before saying, “Well yeah, it's only been a day, Star, of course they're freaking out. They just need time to adjust is all.” The boy put an arm around his girlfriend's waist, causing both of them to blush a deep red. But the boy added in a confident tone, “They'll come around once they get used to all this, trust me.”

Star raised a skeptical eyebrow at her boyfriend, before asking, “How can you be so sure?”

Marco shrugged, fixing his girlfriend with a loving stare as he said, “Well see, a few years ago, this crazy, magical princess came crashing into my world out of nowhere and I thought that she was gonna ruin my life or something.” 

Star laughed, before playfully elbowing her boyfriend in the ribs, “Heeeyy.” 

Marco smiled, but continued, “But then, the craziest thing happened, I discovered I loved spending time with her and being near her...” Star blushed, staring shyly into Marco's brown orbs as he continued. “And that the magical chaos that I was so afraid was gonna ruin my life, ended up changing it and me for the better. I wouldn't be the same without her and I wouldn't change a single minute of it, no matter how weird or wild it got.”

“Me either,” Star said, moving so her back now rested on his side, giving the arm now wrapped around her frame a tight squeeze. 

“So, you see, if this safe kid could learn to embrace Mewni and all its strangeness, than anyone can,” Marco finished, placing a gentle peck at the top of her head.

Star nodded, letting out a content sigh as she nuzzled Marco's form with the back of her head (causing the boy to blush like crazy), replying softly, “Yeah, I guess you're right.” 

One Month After Cleaving

Marco lay awake in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't know how late it was, though he guessed easily after midnight, yet sleep still continued to evade him. Not that he was actively trying to fall asleep, the concept of a good night's rest about as far from his mind as possible, not when he had a million other things on his mind to worry about, his thoughts running wild and refusing to release him from their cruel hold.

The nights were always the hardest for him, during the day it was easy to distract himself, his life full and busy since Earthni had come to be. He was constantly coming and going from meetings and speeches as he, Star, Moon, and Eclipsa worked hard to create peace amongst the three races that now dwelled on this dimension, trying to appease everyone to the best of their abilities, trying to set up boundaries, a new ruling system and constitution, and most importantly making sure everyone would be considered equal in their new home. All of this alone was exhausting but add in spending time with his friends, taking care of his new baby sister, and regular dates with Star and Marco barely had time to breath, much less think.

So at night, when everything finally quieted down and there was nothing but him and the empty silence of his room, that was when the flashbacks would start. He would lay there for hours on end thinking about that day in the Realm of Magic, the fear and sorrow he had felt when the two had separated for what might have been forever. How, in his moment of despair, he had been incapable of returning to Earth, planning on going to Mewni, to Star, only to find his only way back was now closed, leaving him stranded and alone. He remembered how relieved he had been to see Star, to hug her and cling to her for what might have been the end, only to be separated from her once more.

He could still feel his desperation as he raced across town to the portal, to the last chance he had of being with the one he loved again, only to have his final hope shattered and destroyed in a massive explosion, his own stupid legs incapable of reaching the portal in time.

The boy shuddered, letting out a shaky sigh, as he rolled over onto his side. Every night it was the same thing, Marco would lie there and think about how he almost lost his soulmate, his love, his Star forever. About how close he had come to losing his better half. What would his life even be like without Star in it? He dreaded to think about it and yet, he couldn't quite stifle the thoughts in his head... or the occasional nightmare he had about said topic.

Marco blinked away the few stray tears, before rolling over yet again, staring at his wall as he debated getting up and getting a glass of milk or something. It beat laying there in misery, right?

Suddenly, though Marco was pulled from his depressing thoughts as he heard his door gently squeaking open and a small ray of light shining through the crack, blinding the boy for a moment. Marco sat up, looking in shock at the doorway as a head pocked through the entrance, staring at him with startling blue orbs that made his heart dance.

“Star?” Marco asked, his voice tight and he coughed once to clear it. He moved so he was now sitting off the edge watching as Star slowly sauntered over to him, ignoring how adorable she looked in her nightgown. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Couldn't sleep,” Star admitted, staring down at her hands instead of Marco, biting her lip as her eyes filled with worry. Marco didn't even have to ask to know just what was bothering his girlfriend, her expression a perfect match to his.

“Me either,” Marco confessed, giving her a small smile as he patted a spot next to him on the bed. The girl plopped down beside him, bringing her bare knees up to her chest as the two stared off into space. They let out a simultaneous sigh, but made no other attempts at conversation, simply resigning themselves to their uncomfortable thoughts.

“Will we ever stop doing this?” Star finally asked, her voice so low and soft Marco barely heard it.

“We will,” Marco said as comfortingly as possible. “It's just gonna take a while, it's not gonna happen overnight.”

“I wish it did,” Star grumbled bitterly.

Marco put a hand on top of Star's. “Believe me, I do too.” The two finally locked eyes, as Marco gave his girlfriend a loving smile. “But it'll get easier, I promise.”

Star grinned back, before saying, “Well until it does, I'll be here for you, whenever you need me.”

Marco chuckled a little, before adding, “Me too.” And then he planted the softest kiss on Star's forehead.

“Well I better be getting back to bed,” Star said, reluctantly rising up off the soft mattress, walking slowly toward the door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Marco replied, watching with suppressed sadness as his girlfriend left his room. The moment she was gone and the door closed, Marco let out a breath to sooth his nerves. It's okay, she's only going to her room, it's right down the hall, she's not going away forever, he reassured himself, using the breathing technique Sensai had taught him. You don't need to get her. You don't need to get her.

You need to get her. Marco whimpered as the panic set in and the boy was unable to stop himself as he jumped to his feet, running to the door and throwing it open, already calling out for his girlfriend. “Star!”

The boy froze as he came face to face with Star who hadn't moved an inch since closing the door, just standing silently out in the hallway unable to return to her own room. Marco panted as he stared into Star's startled eyes and he quickly gasped out, “I need you here with me, I don't want to be alone.”

“Me too!” Star squeaked out, the worry on her face clear.

“You wanna sleep in my room tonight?”

“Yes, please!”

Star quickly wrapped her arms around her boyfriend's neck, practically hanging off him as Marco pushed the door closed with his foot, slowly shuffling them over to the bed. The boy laid down, pulling Star with him so she was now laying on top of him, Star gently laying her head on his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat sooth her. Marco pulled the covers up over them, before wrapping his arms around his girlfriend's waist.

“Comfortable?” he asked and Star nodded.

“Mm-hmm,” she replied sweetly.

“Good,” Marco said, kissing the top of her head and causing his girlfriend to grin ear to ear.

The two settled down deeper into their warm sheets, their minds finally calm enough to allow them to rest. The two were asleep within minutes, snoring softly as they held onto one another, dreaming pleasant dreams, safe and secure in the knowledge that against all odds, they were together.

One Year After Cleaving

The loud sound of clashing could be heard echoing through the treetops, alerting everyone to the violent struggle taking place as Star and Marco were engaged in combat with Earthni's most wanted criminal: Mina. The woman, despite no longer having magic, was still putting up quite the fight, even though she was more of a nuisance for the veteran fighters than an actual threat. The crazy woman, armed with a broad sword, was swinging recklessly at them in the hopes of maiming one of her two opponents. While Star and Marco flowed around her attacks with precision and grace, their movements near synchronized, almost as if they were of the same mind.

Marco would do most of the countering for the two, since he was armed with the sword Star had gotten for him for this birthday earlier that year. Which left Star open to lash out at Mina with a brutal kick, her karate lessons from Marco paying off well, her foot practically a lethal weapon at this point. Mina seemed to be growing more and more reckless with every second that passed, clearly running out of steam as she struggled to hold the two off, growling in anger as she lashed out at them. It was obvious the fight was soon drawing to a close.

In a last desperate attempt she tried stabbing at Star, Marco quickly sliding into his girlfriend's rescue, his sword clanging loudly against Mina's, as he held her at bay. Star took this opportunity to strike, ducking low under Marco's arm and catching Mina by surprise as she suddenly rose to full height and punched Mina smack in the face.

The woman cried out in pain, stumbling back away from the two and dropping her sword. Star and Marco shared a look before running at her as one and swinging their legs around and kicking her square in the chest as one, sending Mina flying back and nearly into the rushing river behind her.

Star and Marco panted, the boy sheathing his sword, their exhaustion only as relevant as the joyful smiles on their faces as they shared a loving look. It felt great to be fighting together again like old times, it reminded them of why they fell in love in the first place.

Mina rose awkwardly to her feet, swaying unevenly as she shouted out, “Hey what gives, why are you attacking me, anyways? I didn't do nothin' wrong. Just wait till I tell the proper authorities you two attacked a helpless old lady!”

Star and Marco rolled their eyes, the blond arguing, “Mina, give it up already, we know you've been trying to poison the Monster's water supply.”

“Yeah, we already have multiple eyewitnesses,” Marco added.

Mina crossed her arms, childishly turning her head away from them. “I don't know what you're talking about,” she denied.

The two gave her a deadpanned stare as Marco pointed out, “We can see the vat of toxic waste behind you.”

Mina froze, turning to where a vat sat beside her, green smoke coming out of the top, with a massive symbol for 'biohazzard' was on the front. She scoffed, waving a dismissive hand at the two, before claiming, “Big deal. You monster smoochers can't stop me with your puny fighting technique, I was Queen Solaria's most trusted general, I don't go down so easily!”

“Oh, you mean the queen who helped us destroy the magic to take down you!” Star taunted.

Mina's eyebrow twitched, before exclaiming, “That was probably just a fake you made to fool me with your magic! Oh yeah, I'm onto you, I saw through your act in a heartbeat cause my mind is magic-proof, you see.” She pointed at her head with a superior grin.

“Could have fooled me,” Marco muttered under his breath.

“Now then, if you'll excuse me, I have a river to poison.” With that, Mina blew a sharp whistle, Manfred emerging from the trees a second later. “Manfred, hurry up and knock this over for me, I got two nuisances to take care of.”

“Yes, Lady Mina,” Manfred replied, already pushing on the large container, bringing it closer and closer to the river bed.

Star and Marco gasped, before turning to each other, the boy saying quickly, “You get Mina, I'll stop Manfred.”

Star nodded. “Sounds good.”

With that the two rushed at Mina, the boy in the lead, his sword already raised to strike. Mina, who had picked hers back up, rose to counter him, only to freeze in surprise as the boy dropped his sword.

Just before it hit the ground, Star slid out from under Marco's legs, catching the sword and bouncing to her feet, knocking Mina's sword out of her hands, with a single swing.

Marco altered course, running around the two and now headed for Manfred. Once he was close, he lashed out with a kick, being sure to get at an angle he wouldn't accidentally knock the waste into the river. The man went down with a hurt grunt, laying in a bruised heap on the floor, as Marco towered over him, a hand on the poisonous container to keep it steady.

He looked over to Star who was making quick work of Mina and allowed a grin to spread across his face at how beautiful she looked in combat. Finally, the crazy lady gave up, running for the treetops as she shouted to her partner, “Manfred, let's get out of here!”

“Yes, milady,” the man replied, rising shakily to his feet and running after Mina. Once the two reached the treeline, Mina turned and declared, “You may have won this round, monster smoochers, but next time I'll beat'cha,  I'll beat you all!” She raised an angry fist at them before disappearing from sight with a sinister cackle.

Star and Marco stared blankly at the treeline, before Marco turned to Star and asked, “Should we be worried about that?”

“Marco, it's Mina,” his girlfriend reminded him. “She threatens us every other day.”

“True,” the boy said with a quick nod.

“We should probably call Eclipsa, though and let her know the water is safe,” Star suggested.

“Yeah,” Marco agreed, digging into his pocket for his phone. “Not to mention picking up this toxic waste.” But as the boy turned on his phone, he gasped in shock.

“What, what is it?” Star asked nervously, instantly hovering closer to him with worry.

Marco let out a disappointed sigh, before showing her his phone or more importantly the time display. “It's after six, we'll never make it to the restaurant in time,” the hooded teen muttered sadly.

“Oh no,” Star said in dismay, but seeing the sorrowful look on her boyfriend's face she quickly added, “I'm sorry Marco.” She placed a comforting hand on Marco's shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look. “I know you really wanted to take me.”

“Well yeah,” the boy muttered, sulking as he stared at his feet. “It's our one year anniversary, I wanted to make it special. I even payed big money to hook us up with a table at Chez Platypus. But now it looks like our whole date is ruined.”

Star gently cupped his face in her hand, turning it so he could face her, giving him a bright, loving smile. “Marco, nothing's ruined,” she told him and the boy's eyes widened in surprise.

“Wait, really?” he asked, almost in disbelief she felt that way.

“Of course,” his girlfriend told him, her confident tone causing all his insides to dance. “Sure it would be cool to eat in some fancy restaurant, but all I really want is to spend time with my best friend. I don't care how we spend it, so long as we spend it together.”

Marco smiled, tenderly grabbing her wrists as he stared at his wonderful girlfriend. She was so good to him. There was no way he deserved to be dating someone as cool as Star. And the fact that he was made him happier than anything in the entire world.

“So,” Star continued, finally pulling her hands away from his face. “How about we call Eclipsa, head back to your place, and watch a bunch of cheesy movies and eat nachos until we puke?”

Marco laughed, putting his arm around his girlfriend, the girl hugging his small frame. “Nothing could make me happier,” the boy replied, as he led Star away to finish their date.

Three Years After the Cleaving

Star and Marco sat on the roof of the Diaz's home, a picnic blanket sprawled out underneath, an opened basket beside them and a plate of half eaten eggs next to them.  Star leaned her head against Marco's shoulder, sighing in contentment as the young couple watched the sun setting on the horizon. "Its beautiful," Star whispered and Marco nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, it is," the boy agreed softly.

Star snuggled a little deeper into Marco's arm, her mind reminiscing the wonderful day the two had spent together, saying out loud, "I don't think today could get any better."

Marco hid a smile, the bubbly eagerness in his chest almost making him float. He was about to prove her wrong. What Star didn't know was that he had a very special surprise for his girlfriend in store. So as subtly as he could he reached over to the plate of eggs and lightly tapped them with his hand causing them to slip off the roof and onto the ground, shattering. 

Star looked down in surprise while Marco let out a fake gasp. "Oh no, our roof eggs!" He said, making his voice sound as disappointed as possible. He clicked his tongue, before turning to Star and asking, "Think you can get some more from the basket?"

"Sure," Star said pleasantly, pulling away from her bestie so she could dig around in the basket. "Hmmm," she muttered in concentration. "I'm not seeing it."

"Check the bottom," Marco suggested, barely able to suppress the excited squeak in his voice, a wide smile on his face. 

Star obeyed, rooting around at the bottom of the basket, only for her fingers to brush up against something. Star paused, an eyebrow slowly raising as she looked over to her boyfriend, who was grinning ear to ear as he watched Star, the mischievous look on his face, telling her this had to be his doing. The blond pulled out the small object from the basket and examined it closely for a minute. It was a small velvet box and her mouth dropped open at the sight of it, looking over to Marco with a hopeful expression.

He gave her the tiniest of nods, saying in anticipation, "Why don't you open it up?"

Star grinned and instantly flipped the top open, gasping at what she saw inside. Sitting a tiny pillow was a golden ring with a diamond cut clearly in the center. A hand went to her mouth as tears began welling up in her eyes, muttering out in a chocked tone, "Is this- Are you- Are we really gonna-" 

Marco gently took Stars hand, wrapping his own around hers, as he said in a loving tone, "Yep. Sorry I can't get down on one knee but I though this was the best way to ask." He sucked in a deep breath, gathering his nerves before blurting out, "Star Butterfly, will you marry me?"

Star smiled at the proposal, her eyes shimmering with unparalleled joy, but to Marco's surprise, her answer was simply, "No fair."

"Huh?" Marco replied in confusion, a sudden fear rushing through him. Did I do something wrong? Am I rushing things?  Does she not want to? 

The blond reached into her small cloud purse, pulling out a matching velvet box to his. She waved it around in the air for a moment, shooting him a wink as she explained, "I was going to wait until after dinner, but you beat me to the punch." 

Marco stared at her silently for a second before bursting into laughter, which Star soon shared, tears welling up in their eyes but not quite falling. 

"Now what am I supposed to get you for our anniversary," Star said with a fake huff, her cheeks puffing up in the cutest way.

"Well, you saying yes would be nice," Marco said in a flirting tone.

  Star smiled, moving so their faces were mere inches apart, her fingers gently tracing lines on the front of his hood. "I'll say yes, only if you do," she offered, giving him the gentlest kiss on the lips.

Marco nodded, his cheeks painted pink from the kiss. "On the count of three?" he asked and Star grinned and nodded vigorously. 

"One...." the two said as one, their eyes shimmering with expectation. "Two... THREE!" 

Star and Marco sucked in deep breaths, before pumping their fists in the air and screaming, "Of course I'll marry you!" 

The two just smiled at each other for a moment as the tears finally burst free from their eyes, flowing down their cheeks in streams. Star laughed, throwing her arms around her now-fiance, nearly causing Marco to slide off the roof, his free arm gripping the siding in desperation. "Ah, Star, careful!" the boy screamed in panic.

"Who cares about being careful when I'm going to marry the guy of my dreams!" The blond squealed. 

Marco just laughed clinging onto his girlfriend, listening as she spoke a mile a minute, going on and on about their future wedding plans and how incredible everything was and how much she loved him, while he simply smiled and enjoyed this precious moment with the love of his life.

Five Years After Cleaving

Star and Marco sat across from each other, eating their dinner in silence, enjoying their time together and the delicious food in front of them. It was a simple dinner of just tacos from Britta's but they both were enjoying their meal immensely. It was once again their anniversary but the two had agreed to keep things simple this time, no gifts, no extravagant restaurants, just some take-out and maybe watching a movie or two. Too bad they were both terrible at keeping that promise, both having surprises lined up for their significant other.

Marco looked up from his taco to stare at his loving wife, mesmerized by her beauty even as she stuffed what had to be at least her third taco down her throat, his heart overflowing with love over how adorable Star was. And he couldn't help himself as he laughed at the sight of his wife's puffed up cheeks from cramming yet another taco whole into her mouth, chewing loudly. “Geez, Star, you sure have been eating a lot lately,” he commented playfully. “What are you planning on hibernating this year?”

Star swallowed before sarcastically rolling her eyes and saying, “Oh ha ha, very funny.” She stuck her tongue out at her husband, who laughed again and she soon was giggling along with him. Finally, once the two calmed down, Star quickly asked, “Hey can you pass me the syrup?”

An eyebrow immediately shot up as Marco asked, “Syrup, what do you need that for?”

“My tacos, silly,” Star replied with a scoff, as if the answer should be obvious.

Marco looked confused and slightly disgusted for a second before shrugging and standing up to get her the bottle. The moment the syrup was in her hands, Star was licking her lips and pouring endless amounts of the sugary substance all over her tacos, bathing them in an unhealthy layer of sticky maple. Marco could only watch in awe, he had seen Star have some bizarre food combinations before but this had to take the cake. Finally, once Star had what she believed to be a proper amount of syrup covered tacos, she quickly wolfed them down without a care, her hands soon dripping with syrup.

Marco, after a few seconds of watching her, pushed his plate away, no longer interested in eating as he watched his wife scarfing down more and more tacos until there wasn't a single left on the table.

The two cleaned up the kitchen in record time, working together to form the ultimate cleaning duo, and in less than two minutes the two collapsed on the living room couch, holding their full bellies and groaning in both discomfort and satisfaction. The two sat back to back on the sofa, staring off into space as Star said, “That was delicious! What was a great idea for dinner, Marco!!”

“Thanks,” the boy said brightly. “I mean you can't go wrong with Britta's Tacos!”

“Agreed,” Star said sitting up. She gave her husband a loving smile as she said, “This has been a great date so far! I'm glad we decided to keep things simple for once. Don't want a repeat of last year's anniversary.”

The two shuddered in unison at the memory, Marco nervously whispering, “Soo many pig-goats. I can still see their eyes.”

“It took them a week to put out the fire,” Star added, her own eyes distant and disturbed.

“I told you making it a double date with Tom and Janna was a bad idea,” Marco pointed out, his voice still in a dazed monotone.

But the two seemed to instantly snap out of it, after that, as Star added in her typically cheerful demeanor, “Buutt at least this year we both got to have a great anniversary without causing permanent damage to the city.”

Marco chuckled, before agreeing, “Yeah.” He paused for a moment before, adding sheepishly, “Uh but I do have a bit of a confession to make.”

Star gave him a confused look, watching as he rubbed at the back of his neck in that adorable way he always did whenever he was embarrassed about something. “What's that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Marco coughed into his hand. “Okay, I know we said no gifts... but I couldn't help myself. I got you something,” he admitted, flashing her an apologetic grin.

But Star just smiled lovingly at her husband, taking his hands into her own as she said, “Aww, Marco you are so sweet! Of course I don't mind.” She hid her mischievous grin as she added cryptically, “Besides, I may have gotten you a little something myself.”

“Guess neither of us could resist, huh?” Marco joked, laughing at their inability to resist spoiling the other.

“Nope, guess not,” Star said, laughing along with her husband, doing her best to hide the knowing glint in her eyes. She wanted to keep her surprise secret right until the last second. Marco could read her like a book most times, if she showed too much emotion she'd give it away before it was time.

“I bet my gift is better than yours,” Marco said in challenge and Star gave him a playful smirk.

“Oh yeah, well prove it then, Mr. Diaz,” the blond replied. I seriously doubt that, she couldn't help but think to herself.

The young man gave his wife a confident smirk, slowly pulling his hands out of his pocket, while muttering, “Booooossshh.” Once, the gift was in sight, Star gasped, a hand flying to her mouth as she whispered, “Oh Marco.”

It was a locket in the perfect shape of a heart, dangling from a golden chain. The inside of the locket was opened, revealing a very familiar picture fit neatly inside: the Beach Day photo. The two smiling faces of their teenage selves, looking happy and blissful together enough to bring tears to her eyes at the wonderful memory. She grabbed the necklace out of her husband's hands in a second, examining it closely as she said in a chocked tone, “It's beautiful.”

“You like it?” Marco asked softly, a feeling of immense joy for making his Star smile like that filling his being and making his insides flutter.

She locked eyes with him, her familiar blue piercing his soul and making permanent residence in his melted heart. “I love it,” she said sweetly.

“I thought you might,” he said, moving over to help put the necklace on, Star moving her long hair out of the way as he did. “Well, nobody knows me better than you,” the blond replied flirtingly and Marco nearly fumbled with the clasp as blood pooled into his flushed cheeks. Once the boy was finished with the necklace, he sat back with a nod of satisfaction, saying, “There, perfect.”

“I hope you know I'm never taking his off, ever,” Star commented, wrapping a hand around the golden heart.

Marco laughed. “I figured as much.” He winked at her adding confidently, “Let's see you top that.”

Star inwardly smirked. Oh just wait and see, Diaz. “I'll try my best,” she said in a fake disheartened tone, putting a hand dramatically to her forehead.

Marco laughed again, before asking impatiently, “Okay but seriously, enough of the suspense already, what'd ya get me?”

“Welll I wasn't the only one who made it,” Star said cryptically. “Let's just say it was a... joint effort.” She winked at him and her husband, to her amusement, only cocked his head cutely to the side.

“Huh? What's that supposed to mean?” Marco asked, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion and Star could almost gush over how adorable her husband looked in that moment.

But instead of answering, Star just gently grabbed his hand and placed it over her belly, giving him a knowing and hinting smile.

Marco's eyes darted from his wife's face to her belly than back to her face than to her belly again as his look of confusion slowly turned into realization and then to shock as his mouth fell open in disbelief. He gave Star a hopeful look, as he stuttered out, “Wait, y-you mean y-y-your gonna...”

Star's smile was incapable of growing any wider as she nodded, squealing out, “Yes! We're gonna have a baby, Marco!”

A look of pure joy crossed her husband's face, goofy grin on his face as he stared thoughtfully into the distance. “I'm-I'm gonna be a dad!” he muttered breathlessly.

“And I'm gonna be a mom!” Star shouted enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around him in a bone-crushing hug. “Aren't you excited, Marco?! We're gonna be parents!”

“Uh yeah! Of course I'm excited!” Marco screamed and the two immediately hopped off the couch, jumping up and down as they still clung to each other in a tight hug. “We're gonna be parents! We're gonna be parents!” the two screamed as one. Eventually, Marco lifted Star off the ground and began twirling her around in a circle the two giggling in delight all the while.

But suddenly, Marco stopped, a look of fear crossing his face as he said, “Oh my gosh, Star! I'm so sorry!” He gently set her back down, before asking in a nervous ramble, “Are you okay? Did I hurt the baby? Do you need anything?”

“Marco,” Star spoke up, putting a hand on his cheek, instantly stilling his fears with a warm smile. “It's fine.”

Marco nodded, still looking so completely overwhelmed with emotion, his smile bright and infectious, his eyes filled with protective instincts for his wife and unborn child with tears brimming at the very corner of his vision. Star sat back down on the couch, pulling Marco with her, not releasing his hands for anything. “Everything's gonna be just fine, okay?”

Marco nodded, his eyes drifting down to his wife's stomach unable to keep his eyes off of it now, so many emotions flowing through him at once he nearly lost his breath. “I was wrong, Star,” Marco said, his voice chocked with emotion. “I couldn't have asked for a greater gift. This... this is the happiest day of my life.”

Star smiled, leaning over and planting a loving kiss to his lips. “Diddo,” she said sweetly as she pressed their foreheads together. The two stayed like that for a moment, before Marco asked, “Star?”

“Yeah?”

“Can-Can I feel?” he asked softly, almost nervously.

Star laughed. “Duh, of course you can, silly,” Star said, pulling away and leaning back so Marco could feel her belly. The boy reached out a shaky hand, setting it gingerly, if not hesitantly down on his wife's stomach. For a few second, Marco just sat there in awe, his eyes shimmering as he stared at Star's belly. He slowly grew more confident as he lay his head against it, his heart swelling with joy as he curled up in Star's lap.

Star just smiled down at her husband, running a hand through his soft, brown hair, her own heart almost bursting at this point.

“I didn't think it was possible,” the boy said in a breathless sigh.

“What was possible?” Star asked curiously.

“To love you any more than I already did,” Marco replied, in the softest, most tender voice Star had ever heard and her heart melted, her cheeks flushing against her will.

Star smiled wrapping her arms around her husband's neck and burying her face into his hair, chuckling softly as she just whispered out, “You dork.”

And the two, soon to be three of them, stayed just like that for what felt like an eternity.

Ten Years After Cleaving

Four-year-old Illumina Angela Diaz-Butterfly slowly crept down the stairs, listening to the sound of her parents chatting in the kitchen of their home. She peeked her head in, seeing her dad hard at work on their dinner, while her mom sat on the counter, the two laughing at some unheard joke. This was their typical routine every evening and sometimes every meal, and as Illumina snuck closer she could see that they were too deep in their conversation to notice her, causing the four-year-old to smile. Perfect.

She eyed her target hungrily, a plate of freshly baked cookies sitting out on a tray opposite her parents and licked her lips in want. Illumina slowly tip-toed over to the plate, keeping a weary eye on her parents in case they spotted her. But as she got closer, her attention was grabbed by the tray of sweets and a hand slowly rose to snatch one up.

“Illy,” came a scolding tone and the little girl flinched. She turned to see her mom and dad had spotted her, her father giving her a stern look, his hands on his hips. “Illy, were you about to eat a cookie without permission?”

Illumina quickly shook her head, giving her dad the most innocent smile she could. “I just wanted a teeny tiny one,” the little girl said with a begging pout.

Marco's eyebrow slowly raised, as he asked knowingly, “And how many have you already had?”

The girl shrugged, before admitting softly, “Umm, maybe one or two.”

“Illy, you know dinner is gonna be soon,” Marco reminded her in a semi-stern voice, trying to reason with his child. “And three cookies is way too much sugar for you.”

“But if your good and eat all your vegetables we'll think about letting you have one more after dinner,” Star spoke up, giving her daughter a bright grin.

“Yeah,” Marco agreed with a nod, smiling proudly at his wife, before turning his attention back to his daughter. “How does that sound, Illy?”

“Okay, I guess,” the little girl muttered sourly.

“That's my girl,” Marco praised, giving Illumina a warm grin. He quickly directed his attention back on the meal he was preparing, stuffing on his oven mitts and sliding the pan into the oven to cook.

The moment her husband's back was turned, Star leaned over and picked up a cookie, shoving it into her daughter’s hands. “Quick before he sees you,” she whispered and Illumina nodded before running off.

Marco watched his daughter run out of the room, before fixing his wife with an accusing glare, while she whistled innocently, staring up at the ceiling. “You know I saw that right?” he asked Star.

“I don't know what your talking about,” Star said with a shrug, feigning ignorance.

Marco sighed, but couldn't stop himself from grinning. He couldn't stay mad at the love of his life, Star had him wrapped around her finger and they both knew it. “You're gonna end up giving her a cavity, y'know,” he said, giving his wife a playful smile.

“No way, if she gets one it'll be your fault for not stopping me,” Star argued, her voice light and bubbly.

Marco rolled his eyes, before saying in a fake annoyed tone, “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Come on, you know you love it,” Star said with a teasing wink.

“Yeah, I do,” Marco admitted, before wrapping an arm around his wife's waist, pulling her closer. Star just laughed, before the two's lips meeting in a passionate, if not playful kiss. The two stayed like that for at least a minute before the smoke detector started going off in the background and Illumina's voice called from upstairs, “Mom, dad, I smell smoke!”

Marco gasped and pulled away rushing over to the oven as he yelled in panic, “Oh no, my casserole!”

…

Marco managed to recover the casserole without it ending up too burnt and the family happily enjoyed their dinner, Star and Marco listening as little Illumina described her fun time being babysat while her parents were out of their date.

“It was soo much cool, mom and dad!” Illumina exclaimed, her eyes shining with joy as she practically bounced in her seat. “Aunt Janna showed me a bunch of card tricks and then Uncle Tom set them on fire by accident.”

Star nodded. “That sounds like Tom, alright,” she said cheerfully.

“Yeah and then Aunt Janna showed me how to scam suckers out of their cash,” the little girl added innocently and Marco nearly chocked on his water, Star having to pat his back to try and keep him from chocking.

“She did what?!” Marco exclaimed, slamming his cup down on the table.

“No, no, it's okay,” Illumina reassured her dad. “She said that they were a bunch of criminals anyways, so it was fine. Besides, she said if things got really bad she would just have Uncle Tom set everything on fire to cover our tracks!”

Marco face-palmed groaning in disbelief. “Janna, whhhyy?!” the boy muttered, before slamming his head down on the table.

“Well what did you expect, asking those two to babysit Illumina?” Star asked in a clear I-told-you-so tone.

“We didn't have many other options, Star,” Marco pointed out bitterly.

“Look, Marco's it's fine, it could have been a lot worse,” Star reminded him, grabbing his hand and giving it a small squeeze.

“Mommy, daddy, how come you never make me Mewman-man cakes? Gradma Eclipsa and Grampy Globgore let me have it all the time when they babysit and Grampy even let me have the head because he said that's the most delicious part!” Illumina suddenly blurted out, lost in her own little world as she finished her plate.

Star and Marco shared a quick look, before the latter said dryly, “So agree to only ever let Jackie and Chloe babysit her?”

“Agreed,” the blond said with a nod.

Illumina suddenly spoke up again, pushing her plate away before asking, “Daddy I ate all my vegetables, can I please have another cookie now?”

Marco shook his head, saying, “I don't know Illumina, four cookies is way too many.”

“Yeah, I think we should wait until tomorrow for another one,” Star agreed.

“But I reallly want it! I promise I'll be good, please, please, please?!” Illimina begged, giving her parents a pouting lip and shimmering, hopeful eyes.

Star and Marco stared blankly into their daughter's pleading eyes, feeling their resolve instantly crack and they shared a quick look before Marco said, “Just make sure to brush your teeth, afterwards.”

…

Later that night, in Illumina's room the girl's gentle snoring and soft breathing indicated to the two parents their daughter was truly asleep and they shared a quick smile. Marco turned off the lamp on Illumina's dresser, as well as switching on Illumina's night light (since she had grown an irrational fear of the dark recently) while Star made sure Illumina was nice and tucked in, pulling the covers up to her daughter's chin. Star and Marco took turns planting a kiss on their daughter's forehead, before quietly exiting the room, Star turning for only a moment to whisper softly, “Goodnight Illumina.”

Marco gently shut the door and the two let out a relieved sigh in the safety of the hallway, the two leaning up against the wall, exhausted. “Man, I thought she'd never get to sleep,” Marco commented tiredly.

“Well it was kinda our own fault for letting her eat so many cookies before bed,” Star pointed out.

“Good point,” Marco agreed with a nod. “We should really have a sugar limit for her from now on.”

“Sounds good,” the blond replied, the two now headed for their bedroom. “How about no more than three cookies before bed from now on?”

“Three?” Marco asked skeptically, with an eyebrow slowly raising. “Do you want her bouncing off the walls every night?”

“Okay, Mr. Diaz, how many do you think she should have?” Star inquired with a playful smirk.

Marco thought about it for a moment before replying, “Two, but only if she eats all her dinner first.”

Star nodded in agreement, saying sweetly, “That sounds fair to me.”

The two entered into their bedroom, before collapsing on the bed with tired sighs, Marco's body hanging off the left side and Star's body hanging off the right. “Man, it was a long day today,” Marco muttered.

“Yep, sure was,” Star agreed.

The two paused, staring up at their ceiling deep in thought as a comfortable silence settled over them. Both just laid there thinking about their life together, there was no denying that their life was without problems but they were nothing the two couldn't handle together and the joyful moments easily overshadowed the unpleasant ones and neither would change their lives for a second. And after a moment or two Marco slowly turned his head, so he was now staring at Star, saying, “Hey Star.”

Star turned her head so chocolate brown and sky blue met in a hypnotic dance. “Yeah, Marco.”

“I'm glad I met you,” he said with an affectionate smile.

Star felt her cheeks slightly flush as she added, “I'm glad I met you, too.”

The two leaned closer, giving each other a small kiss on the lips, pouring all their love and tenderness into one single act. As the two parted, both breathless from the wonderful emotion coursing through their bodies, Star asked, “What brought that on, anyways?”

Marco shrugged. “Just thinking out loud. I'm always grateful we found each other when we did. I couldn't imagine my life without you in it.”

“Aww, Marco you are such a sap,” Star said with a  playful wink.

Marco laughed, before admitting, “I'm always a sap when it comes to you, I love you, Star.”

“I love you too, Marco,” the blond said sweetly.

The two sat up before giving each other a loving hug, their minds for just a moment flashing back to all those years ago, when they had embraced for the first time in their new world. “Happy Anniversary, Star,” Marco whispered, squeezing his wife tight, knowing nothing could ever part them again.

“Happy Anniversary, Marco,” Star replied, snuggling deeper into the loving hold of her wonderful husband as a single tear dripped down her cheek.

The two stayed like that for far longer than either of them cared to count. And when the moment finally did come to an end, the two weren't worried knowing they had countless more moments to share, for many years to come.

Thank you for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed!! This actually might be the sappiest thing I've ever written, like seriously I was getting teared up writing this ending but I like to think that Star and Marco get super sentimental and sappy on their anniversaries. I also have a headcannon that they both became extremely clingy for a while after the Cleaving and had trouble being apart, which I of course put in here. Sorry for no big description on my Starco child Illumina, she's a recent idea I had but I don't have many details down for her yet like her looks or outfit so I had to leave it to you guys imagination, she just fit really well in here for the ending. 

Oh also, I drew some heavy inspiration from the second part from my good friend @jcabrera35 fanatstic comic “Lingering Baggage”. If you haven’t seen it I highly recommend because it’s amazing and I try my best to promite it every chance I get!! Also huge thank you to my other good friend @kikithefox231 who came up with the idea for the cookie snatching going on in this chapter! If you haven’t seen her stuff go check it out cause it’s great also!! These two are both very talanted individuals and they deserve more love!!!

So anyways I'm gonna sign off now, hope everyone has a great anniversary Stardom!! Stay amazing, guys!! :)

[kirishwima]

can you write some headcannons for a mc that suffers from migraines and how the rfa would help her?

sure! i also get migraines and they’re so, so bothersome...honestly one of the worst kinds of pain, mainly bc of the photosensitivity orzsince you specified the pronouns i’ll be using she/her for this! ^^

YOOSUNG:

* MC never mentioned her migraines to him-it honestly just slipped her mind to do so

* So when Yoosung comes home to find MC laying on the couch, all the lights in the apartment turned off, a blanket over her head, he panicked

* He dashed to her, foregoing turning a light on and nearly tumbling over his dropped bag, as he kneeled beside MC’s face, pulling the blanket down despite her groans of complaint

* “MC? Hey, sweetie, no what’s wrong?!”

* When she explained that it’s something she gets frequently and how lights and noise make the pain even worse, he breathed a sigh of relief-seeing MC in pain was horirble, but he was glad at least it’s something she’s used to and not deathly serious

* He didn’t want to bother her too much with talking, but he did ask what he could do to help-anything MC wants, he’d do, just say the word!

* Like the good boyfriend he is, he gathered MC up in his arms and took her to the bedroom so she could rest better, making sure to shut all the blinds and lights in the room before doing so, setting her down gently on the bed as he tucked her in.

* He wanted to go back out to the living room and google on his phone tips to help ease migraines, but MC held his hand, mumbling a complaint as he made to leave. Yoosung turned, seeing MC mouth the words ‘stay’, and well, what sort of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t comply?

* He stayed beside MC, running a hand through her hair and gently massaging at her scalp until he felt her slowly fall asleep, continuing the ministration until he knew she wouldn’t rouse if he got up.

* He’s relieved to see her refreshed and better the next morning, albeit a bit drowsy-the pain did wake her multiple times, but he was there for her every time, and even got up at some point to make her some warm tea and bring some painkillers. She apologises for disturbing his sleep, and Yoosung rolls his eyes, flicking her nose teasingly.

* “You could never bother me MC-no matter what, being able to see you smile like this it’s always worth any effort!”

ZEN:

* MC had mentioned she frequently gets migraines, but so far into living with him, she hadn’t experienced any.

* That is until one night, Zen came home late from rehearsals, opening the door to their home and seeing all the lights in the place turned off.

* Figuring MC must already be in bed, he turned the lights to the living room on, only to stumble back in surprise as he heard MC’s groan from the couch, her complaint of “Turn it off please-ugh” making him instantly turn the lights back off.

* “Baby, what are you doing here? It’s late, you should be sleeping-and what’s up with the total darkness?”

* MC, unsurprisingly, wasn’t up for much talking. “Got a bad migraine. Everything hurts, lights hurt my eyes.”

* Zen nodded, his brow furrowed-he hated seeing his princess in pain. He remembered Jaehee, and how she oftentimes got migraines too, and how she said painkillers don’t really help, but compresses to the eyes and a good night’s rest do the trick most of the time.

* He rushed to the kitchen, closing the door behind him so the light wouldn’t bleed through to the living room, and started warming up water to make some lukewarm compresses with chamomile tea bags, making a cup of tea for MC to drink too if she’d be up for it.

* He walked back out to the living room and picked MC up in a princes-carry as the tea brewed, ignoring her complaints and taking her into the bedroom, placing her on the bed as he leaned over to give her a kiss on the forehead.

* For the remainder of the night, Zen held MC close to him, singing a quiet lullaby, urging her to focus on his voice instead of the pain. Despite most noises making the migraines worse, Zen’s voice was deep yet soft, a gentle lull that made MC’s mind drift off and shift its’ attention away from the pain.

* In the morning he brought her a cup of tea in bed, and when she thanked him for the help the night before, he merely shrugged.

* “I’d do anything for you darling. Although, if you really want to thank me...” he tapped a finger to his lips, his smile devious, “I do take payment in kind”.

JAEHEE:

* She also gets migraines! She knows exactly how much they suck, so MC is definitely not alone in this

* (Fun fact: Women statistically suffer from migraines more than men do!)

* When working at the coffee shop with MC, she notices her wincing everytime she turns towards the industrial lights hung at the ceelings, how as the day progresses she starts to become distant, pressing her hands over her ears when the music becomes too loud for her to handle.

* Jaehee is instantly there for her, taking her to the backroom and dimming the lights, leaving only some light bleeding through the shutters of the windows so they could see their own footing at least. 

* “I’ll take care of everything outside. Rest for a bit, take these, and when you’re feeling up for it, we can close up early and go home together so you can get some proper rest, okay?”

* Jaehee brought her a pack of medicine from her bag-usual over-the-counter medications don’t work on migraines, so she had a prescription for a specific type of painkillers, and always had them in her bag just in case. She gave them to MC, making sure she took them before going back out to manage the shop, closing the door gently behind her as she let MC take a nap on the couch.

* Once the medicines kicked in and MC was feeling well enough to take the trip back home, Jaehee quickly locked up and held MC’s hand all the way back, giving MC a kiss on the temple when she winced in pain.

* Baehee’s got her MC covered-from cold compresses to soothing white noise, anything she needs to get through a shitty hangover, Jaehee’s got it-and MC couldn’t be more grateful.

* Later in the night, when MC’s half asleep with Jaehee running a hand through MC’s hair, she could’ve sworn she heard Jaehee hum a song-it was quiet, but there, her soft voice trailing into MC’s mind, bringing sweet dreams through the night.

JUMIN:

* He came home one evening after work, asking the bodyguards how MC was, and the answer freightened him- “MC has come home earlier from work sir, she was feeling unwell and has been resting in her room ever since.”

* Jumin tried to calm his frantic mind, taking slow steps to the bedroom as he gingerly opened the door. “My love-are you there?”

* MC’s groan in response made him frown. Was she that unwell? What happened? What could he do to help?

* He knew MC had frequent migraines-it’d happened before, and as panicked as he was that first time, he made sure to read up on everything he could about the issue, to know fully well how to handle it the next time it came around.

* When MC confirmed that it was yet another migraine, Jumin nodded, giving her a quick kiss on the temple before leaving the bedroom to let her rest.

* He’d only come back a few hours later to make sure she’d take her painkillers, and with a cup of black tea for her to drink even a little-he’d read that small doses of caffeine could actually help, and wanted to make sure she’d get some in her system.

* Overall he’s very calm and quiet-he dims the penthouse lights throughout so they won’t bother her, and whilst he’d usually put a vinyl on the pick-up for them to enjoy, he skipped it that night, settling instead to sit on the couch reading with Elizabeth the 3d besides him.

* At night he held MC close, letting her rest her head on his chest as he trailed his fingers across her back. She already seemed better, and he was thankful for it.

* Of course he’s the type of dude who’d go to a million different doctors asking if they can cure migraines, but the answer was always the same-you can’t cure migraines, there’s a hereditary predisposition towards them, you can only try to minimise the pain and avoid flare-ups, blah blah blah. He’d definitely fund a unit to research a cure to migraines regardless. Anything for his beloved.

SEVEN:

* He doesn’t get migraines, but staring at computer screens for hours on end everyday of the week does cause him to get very frequent headaches in general, so oftentimes both he and MC will be nursing a nasty pain, trying to help one another feel better in any way they can.

* They have a cabinet for painkillers in their kitchen, and have marked the stronger medications from the lighter ones with a red X, so they’ll know what to take when the pain becomes unbearable.

* When MC gets a migraine, he’ll turn all the lights off and dim his computer screen as much as possible-he doesn’t want to leave her alone during those times, but he also can’t completely abandon his work, so they both make do. She’ll usually lay on the couch and he’ll take frequent breaks to check up on her, or sometimes to just squeeze in beside her, holding MC close to him as he pretends to cast spells to take the pain away.

* MC loves when he runs his hands over her forehead and eyes-his hands are always freezing cold, and it’s a welcome soothing distraction from the pain to feel the coldness on her eyelids.

* He wishes he could do more, and does dive into the depths of the internet for advice-but he knows that what MC needs the most is just some comfort and quiet, so his usual cheery meme-ness is gone whilst MC is in pain. Instead he’ll whisper soothing encourangements, promising her dates and kisses as soon as she feels better.

* He’s just such a supportive boyfriend my dudes, give him a pat on the bad for his hard work pls

-send me a mystic messenger headcanon/prompt for characters reactions!-

[pedros-mustache-main]

a thing for hermia

summary: though she be but little, she is fierce—and hopelessly in love.

word count: 1.5k+ (she a baby)

warnings: language, innuendo  

a/n: just wanna be upfront and say i basically got the idea for this from a blurb by the lovely @almightygwil. she said i could role with it, so this happened. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

also you can easily find the scene mentioned in the fic on youtube. it’s one of my favs, hence why i rambled on about it for too long. what’s italicized is shakespeare’s.

“curtain rises in ten, ladies!” richard, stage manager extraordinaire and cast wrangler, sticks his head in the door of your dressing room, tapping his knuckles against the wall. his face is flushed with stress, and the headset on his shoulders is askew. “best be ready soon.”

your cast mate, olive, winks at the middle-aged, balding, pudgy man, blush container poised halfway between her chest and her face. “i’m always ready for you, richard, dear,” she coos, to which richard, bless him, blushes and ducks out the door.

you slide your gaze to her reflection in the mirror. “you mustn’t tease him so. one day he might burst.”

olive dabs a bit of chapstick on her lips before standing. she secures her gown with a final pin and batts her eyelashes coyly. “richard is lovely and i mean every word i say. if he wants me, he can come have me.”

rising from your chair, you tug on your extensions. opening night had gone smoothly, no locks tugged out of place, but one could never be too certain. it was only a week in to the show’s run, but still you worried the hairpiece would fall off onstage. your face burned with embarrassment at the mere thought.

“god, if only my hair were this thick,” you say.

“and if only i had a million pounds. here, you’ve got some tool loose.” olive moves to stand behind you and adjust the tool beneath your dress. she meets your eyes over your shoulder, and you internally brace yourself. you know that glint; it’s nothing but trouble.

“what?” you ask, eyebrow lifted. “what is it?”

“your boyfriend,” she starts. her voice trails off as she turns her back, gathering a last minute glance at her script.

“joe?”

“he hasn’t come yet has he?”

you shake your head and pull on your ballet flats. “no. he’s in new york. i think he’ll be able to come next month.”

“you’re not angry? that he couldn’t make opening night?”

shrugging, you follow her into the hall. there’s a buzz here, as there always is. it settles in your veins like a drug, and soon you can’t help the ridiculous smile painted across your face. you dodge a member of the crew, arms laden with fake foliage and a face plastered in fear. 

“he’s busy, olive,” you say, rounding the corner. “london is thousands of miles from new york, and i think he had an important meeting that night. besides, being angry about something that’s over and done is pointless. he’ll come when he can and it will still be special.”

olive looks at you with disgust. “ugh,” she groans. “[y/n], you’re a saint and it sickens me. well, whatever he’s like, he doesn’t deserve you. if my boyfriend missed my first opening night on the west end—in a shakespeare play, no less—i’d chop his dick off.”

“guess i’ll be glad you don’t have a boyfriend then.”

olive slaps your shoulder. “uh! low blow!”

“there’s always time to butter richard up a bit more.”

before olive can respond, your director takes her place atop an overturned milk crate. she holds up her hands, and the cast and crew gathered around fall quiet. victoria is one of the youngest women to ever direct a version of ‘a midsummer night’s dream’ on the west end, and you couldn’t be more proud of being her hermia. you couldn’t be more proud of those around you. really, the tears that consistently well in your eyes when you look around the room and marvel at all you’ve accomplished are ridiculous. but you can’t help it.

five minutes before curtain is the same every night: a pep talk from victoria, a group huddle, whispered words of affection and good wishes. then all is silent. like well-oiled cogs in a machine, each person moves about their business, working for the good of the group and the good of the show. tonight is no different, and the surge of excitement you feel before stepping out on stage for the first time tingles from your head to your feet.

olive catches your arm seconds before you make your entrance. “break a leg,” she whispers, her fingers squeezing your elbow. that same glint—the one that spells trouble—lights her eyes, but you don’t have time to process it, wonder what’s gotten into her, before whisking onto the stage.

your favorite scene: act three, scene two.

you suppose it’s the nerd in you, the way you chomp at the bit to reach this scene each night. it might be the dialogue, the iconic lines and quick back and forth between your costars, that gets you so riled up. or maybe it’s simply the energy of being on stage as a group—yourself, olive, matthew, and nick—and feeding off one another’s frenzied energy. the physicality of the scene, too... you could ramble for days.

tonight, the energy is heightened tenfold. you can’t be sure, but you think olive is the one pushing things higher. there’s an unmistakable excitement about her you rarely see, and you rise to meet the challenge, careful to keep your words from fumbling together.

“O me! you juggler! you canker-blossom! You thief of love! what, have you come by night and stolen my love's heart from him?” tiny droplets of spit fly from your mouth as you speak, circling olive where she stands.

her eyes narrow, though she remains still. “Fine, i'faith! Have you no modesty, no maiden shame, no touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear impatient answers from my gentle tongue? Fie, fie! you counterfeit, you puppet, you!”

straightening, you face the audience, face pulled blank in shock. “Puppet? why so?” in a moment you keep for yourself, you scan the crowd, allowing your words to sink in before you continue. your eyes trip over a familiar face, one you know dearly but can’t place in the second you have to pause. 

twisting back to olive, you say, “Ay, that way goes the game. Now I perceive that she hath made compare between our statures; she hath urged her height; and with her personage, her tall personage, her height, forsooth, she hath prevail'd with him.”

then it clicks.

oh my god—joe!

the thought—the realization that he’s here, in a poorly padded chair, watching your every move, your every word—steals the next lines from your mouth. you want to turn, to smile at him and wave like a giddy schoolgirl, but you can’t. 

so you shake yourself free, well-aware that you’ve taken too many seconds to continue, and surge forward, struggling to keep your smile at bay.

“And are you grown so high in his esteem; because I am so dwarfish and so low? How low am I, thou painted maypole? speak; how low am I? I am not yet so low but that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.”

during curtain call, you squeeze olive’s hand hard and lean toward her ear. “you knew,” you whisper. “that he’d be here.”

she says nothing, only smiles and waves toward the crowd, her hand squeezing yours back.

it’s all you can do to not run to your dressing room once the curtain has fallen. there’s things to do, things to put away, before you can meet joe in the theatre, and your blood pumps hard with adrenaline. throwing open the door to your room, you pull the straps of your gown off your shoulders, eager to work as quickly as possible.

“whoa, whoa, whoa. i mean, i’m all for it, but wouldn’t a hello be nice first?”

squeaking, you jump, holding the top of your dress against your chest. joe sits on the ratty armchair in the corner, a bouquet of roses in hand, and an infuriating smirk on his face. 

unbidden, tears pool in your eyes. “i fucking hate you,” you say, crossing the floor to swat his chest. he laughs and grabs your waist, drawing you to his lap before you can wiggle away. holding his face in your hands, you whisper, “why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“i wanted it to be a surprise.”

“well, it worked! i nearly forget all my lines when i saw you.”

his smirk widens. “i thought i caught that.” squeezing your hip, he brushes a lock of hair away from your face. “i’m really proud of you. you were incredible.”

the blush that rises to your cheeks is embarrassing, but you hold his gaze despite it. “thanks.”

“do i get anything special for coming all this way and not spoiling the surprise?”

you know what he’s hinting at, and by george, you’d do it right here right now, but the hallway is too busy and someone is bound to hear you. so you lean forward and kiss him softly, moving your lips over his in the way he likes, enough to tease.

“maybe later,” you breathe, pulling away. he looks at you through hooded eyes, dark with desire, and it sends a thrill to your stomach. “first i want you to meet everyone.”

[thedailyimagines]

Imagine Geralt coming to your rescue.

Warning: Kidnapping, some noncon touching (no sex mentioned), a mind control-spell, bleeding/blood, some vomiting, mentions of injuries, and some foul language.

~~~~~~~~

Once upon a time, there was a nobleman and his wife. The couple had one child, a son of three and twenty winters. It was a cold night in late winter, when a visitor came to the home of the nobleman.

The visitor, an old crone, asked the noble family to stay the night. The nobleman demanded the crone leave his home. Thrice more the crone asked for shelter, and thrice she was denied. Finally, she cast off her rags and revealed herself as a faerie of great power.

The nobleman begged for her pardon, but the faerie was angered and refused. She took the nobleman’s son as reparation. Distraught over the taking of their son, the wife offered a great reward for any hero who could rescue him.

None were successful. Finally, in a desperate act, the nobleman called upon a great hero—a Witcher—to save his son...

<—>

The cave was cold, colder than any winter that Geralt had lived through. Icicles longer than a man’s arm hung from the ceiling, glittering and sharp like knives. For what was probably not the last time, the Witcher cursed whatever idiot had hired him to come here.

Monsters were one thing. They were understandable, predictable. But faeries? They were deceitful, cunning, sadistic, and a million other unflattering traits. Geralt tried to avoid them as much as possible.

And of course, Jaskier heard about a stuck up noble with more coin than sense and convinced Geralt (threatened to find the faerie himself) to take on the task of rescuing the noble family’s son, a young man named y/n.

A light was glowing deeper in the cavern. Geralt crept forward, careful not to make a noise. It was in situations like these he was glad Jaskier wasn’t with him; the bard would chatter until something came to kill them.

“My pretty little pet~ Have you slept well?” The musical voice froze Geralt in his tracks. Beautiful as it sounded, there was a cold sharpness under the sweet tones. He hazarded a glance around the rock he was hidden behind.

There was a being, that was best thing to call her as she was obviously not human. Her limbs were too long, her ears pointed and long, and hair that was many different shades of blue and purple. In front of her was a shirtless young man.

He knelt upon the ground, wrists chained and rivulets of blood dripping down his arms. His eyes were tightly shut, and from what Geralt could see it was only because of the chains that the young man was even upright.

That must be y/n.

“Open your eyes, pretty one~” The faerie lightly touched the y/n’s face and with a shaky gasp, his eyes shot open. His eyes were glassy and unfocused with a slight blue sheen. Y/n’s back arched and a slight moan escaped his lips.

The faerie laughed and kissed her prisoner, moving from his lips to his chest, then licking his arms where the blood flowed. Each action caused y/n to jerk and twitch, little gasps and whimpers filling the air. If it weren’t for the chains and blood, one might think y/n was enjoying the faerie’s attention.

A spell. That was going to make this a little harder to do. If Geralt wasn’t careful, the faerie could easily kill y/n. The Witcher drew his sword and stepped out of his hiding spot.

“Let him go.” The faerie turned and a look of unsettling delight crossed her features.

“A Witcher? Oh pretty pet, it seems you’ve attracted quite the treat~” She turned to Geralt, a wicked look upon her face. “Perhaps you’d like a taste of him?” The faerie brushed her fingers through the noble’s hair and he shuddered. The room seemed to become even colder.

“I won’t say it again. Let him go, and I’ll make this as quick as I can.”

“But he’s so precious, I’d rather keep him. Poor little y/n, his parents could care less about him. They just want their heir.”

“He does not belong to you, or his parents. His life is his own.” Geralt took a step towards her, and the faerie’s face twisted and snarled.

“He is MINE. MY pet, MY toy, MINE!” With each word, the faerie tugged y/n’s hair. Her sharp nails cut into his scalp, and blood started to drop down y/n’s face. The young man simply gasped, his eyelids fluttering as he was treated as a ragdoll.

She wasn’t letting y/n go anytime soon, and y/n wasn’t going to be able to get himself away while Geralt fought. Time for a different approach.

“Is a mortal really the best you could do? Barely old enough to be considered a man, and you’re acting like he’s some great prize you won.” The faerie tensed, eyes flashing with anger. Her grip on y/n loosened, and the noble’s head lolled bonelessly forward.

“I am the most powerful there is. No mortal is above my charms.” The cave was freezing now, and frost was beginning to form on Geralt’s armor. Y/n trembled visciously, the blood on his arms beginning to freeze.

“Then why settle for him? It seems to me that you’re not all that strong.” The faerie howled, and the beauty glamour faded from her. Her fingers were talons, her teeth fangs, and two tattered wings sprouted from her back. Geralt rushed forward as the faerie threw herself at him, screaming.

<—>

Y/n awoke with a start, jerking upright and coming face to face with...a horse. Y/n blinked owlishly, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. It was dark out, and y/n was outside of what seemed to be a cave.

Then the cold hit him. His whole body felt like it had been submerged in ice and left out in a winter storm. He started to shake and rubbed his hands over his arms, trying to warm himself up even a fraction. A hand grasped his shoulder, and y/n yelped in surprise.

“Calm down.” Y/n turned to find a man with white hair and yellow eyes.

“W-who are y-you? W-where are we?” The white haired man frowned and stood, going over to the horse and removing something from a side bag.

“My name is Geralt. Your parents sent me to find you.” Geralt returned with the object and wrapped it around y/n’s shoulders. A blanket, and a rather thick one at that.

“M-my parents?” That couldn’t be right. Why would his parents be looking for him? It had only been at most a few hours since he went to bed.

“Do you know how long you’ve been gone?” There was a frown on Geralt’s face, and y/n wanted to shrink into the folds of the thick fur blanket.

“I’ve been gone? I mean, obviously I have because I’m not home, but it’s still night out and it appears to still be winter.” Geralt blinked, them let out a sigh.

“Listen, this will be a shock to you, but you’ve been gone almost a full year. Your parents sent me to rescue you from a fairie. Are you saying you don’t remember anything?” Y/n was stunned silent. A year? That was impossible! His head was throbbing with a dull ache.

“I—” A sharp pain suddenly radiated from y/n’s head, and he brought his hand up to his eye. Flickers of memories played in his head; a beautiful woman kissing him, icy shackles cutting into his wrists, quick little touches that left him unnaturally sensitive and frozen.

It was all too much. Y/n jerked away from Geralt and vomited on the ground, trying to catch his breath and figure out what the hell was going on.

Geralt, for his part, just brushed y/n’s hair out of his eyes and placed a steadying hand on y/n’s shoulder. When y/n began to dry heave, the Witcher grabbed a canteen and offered some water to y/n. The younger man accepted the drink gratefully and sipped, noting the gashes around his wrists as he did so.

“You need rest. We’ll leave in the morning. Stay close to the fire and under the blanket, you need to stay warm.” Y/n nodded and curled up under the blanket near the fire. Geralt threw a few more logs onto the fire and settled by his horse’s side.

Tomorrow was going to be a long ride back.

~~~~~~~~

I don’t own the above gifs, all credits go to the owners.

[flamingo-writes]

Tame — Trafalgar Law x Reader

Summary: Plot less Law smut, fluffy ending. 

A/N: My intention of uploading every thursday totally failed, almost a if Murphy saw my post and thought: “oooh it’d be terrible if you were too busy and tired to write...” and cast a spell because I kid you not, I’ve been very busy and as soon as I get home I collapse on the bed. It took me 2 weeks to write this from stat t finish. TWO WEEKS

Word Count: 1.3 words (in tWO WEEKS!!)

Warnings: Smut. Since it’s plot less, it’s spoiler free.

Boy, oh boy. It was exquisite, enchanting, every single thing you made Law feel. His skin tingled in anticipation, his mind clouded with lust and his heart irradiated immeasurable love. 

You were one of the most fierce warriors Law had seen. When you held your spear firm in your hand, you were scary indeed. When you first met, you’d taken down everyone in the crew yourself except for Law, who’s devil fruit was the sole reason why he could defeat you. And realising, not just anyone could take down his entire crew by themselves. 

Being a feral violent fighter, people were naturally terrified of you. But after joining the Heart Pirates, to your crewmates you were a completely different person. The bloodthirsty monster turned into a fun loving individual. Always smiling, always joking. 

And yet, in the confinements of yours and Law's room, you were absolutely shy. Your ridiculously submissive shyness was perfect for his kinky dominant ego. It was hard for Law not to claim you as his every night. The fierce and violent fighter you were, completely at Law's mercy. As if he'd tamed a beast no one else had tamed before. And boy, he loved that feeling. 

He loved the taste of your skin, and the effect he had on it. His teeth biting your neck, painting yet another love bite l, as your skin got goosebumps. Your head pushed back against his shoulder and your back pressed against his inked chest. 

The whimpers and soft moans that came out of your throat as Law fingered you senselessly was making his blood boil warmer and warmer. His anticipation growing just like his erection poking the small of your back. 

You dripped down his fingers as he kept pleasuring you. Moans growing louder and Law's patience lower. Every twitch, every shake, every moan and every time you called his name breathlessly was slowly driving him wilder, as he lost his self control. 

"Fuck, the things I want to do to you, babe" he purred in your ear as he looked at you from the corner of his eye. 

The red tones he loved so much were painted in your cheeks. Flustered, and yet a lustful look reflected on your face as you felt yourself climax around Law's erratic fingers. 

Moaning his name louder than before, the blush on your cheeks got worse. At this, Law smiled proudly as he kissed your cheek sweetly. 

"I love you, Law" you gasped between pants as Law waited for your walls to stop contracting around his fingers before pulling out his digits. 

"I love you, [Name]-ya" he purred again your ear as his free hand made its way to your hair and held it tightly. "Tell me what you want, love" Another gentle purr followed by a tender kiss on our neck. 

"Ah" you gasped, as Law's tight grip on your scalp made shivers run down your spine. "I want you" 

"You're gonna have to he more specific than that, love” His lips playfully made their way up to your jaw, brushing your skin so gently it drew goosebumps on your skin  You already have me. Tell me, what is it that you want" 

His demand was so straightforward for your shy nature. You whimpered and felt your face become a hot air balloon as Law was  staring at you, fascinated as you tried your best to formulate the words. As you tried to talk dirty to him. 

"Inside me” You finally cried out “I want your cock inside me"

Law smile as he let go of your hair, and with one hand held gently your waist. With the other one, holding his  erection and bringing it to your entrance. 

"So be it"  He freaked pushing himself inside fiercely as a loud moan escaped your lips, pushing your head back against Law's shoulder. 

"Law" with another thrust, Law stole another delicious moan off your mouth, the sound of your voice giving him chills. 

His pace was wild and erratic, stretching you. His hands wandering through your body, caressing and pinching everything he could. 

You pushed back your hips, pressing them against Law, as he pushed deeper. Law growled, holding your hips tight in his grip. 

"[Name]-ya" Law whispered against your ear. "Fuck, you're dripping all over me, love" another thrust. 

"Ah, Law" you whimpered. 

"Lie on the bed, baby" he said said slipping out of you as you did as he told. 

Lying on the bed, Law crawled slowly on top of you. His lips kissing their way up. His hands squeezing your breast as he bit your skin, leaving hickies behind. His eyes gazing at you hungrily. And your legs shaking lightly. 

As Law's mouth finally made it to your jaw, he kissed tenderly your chin. Your legs wrapped around his slim waist holding him close to you. 

"Look at me, love" he purred, with one hand cupping your cheek. 

Your eyes looked into his black ones, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. That look, those dark grey eyes, as hypnotizing as ever. Like a predator devouring whole. It was hard for you to maintain eye contact, as much as you loved his eyes. 

He positioned himself. And slowly slid inside you once more, deep, very deep as you whimpered, closing your eyes shut, feeling both the pleasuring pain and feeling shy from Law’s intense stare. 

His pace grew faster and harder, as you felt yourself approach your orgasm. Your moans got higher and higher, giving away your approaching release, fueling Law to go faster and harder, even if that meant cumming faster. 

Not that Law cared to finish before you, he had the habit of not stopping until you came with him inside. It was such a good feeling, you tightening strongly around himself. 

Just like he thought he would, he came before you, still, not slowing down, fighting the pleasuring release, he pushed through it as you shortly followed him. Just like he anticipated, just like he liked. That sensation of your core squeezing,  he could only imagine the explosive burning in your gut as you clawed your nails to his back. Pushing your head back and whimpering his name in a high pitched voice, breathless, as your entire body arched. 

The view was magnificent, thought Law, so erotic and delicious. He savored it to the last second of your orgasm, as your body relaxed, collapsing on the bed, catching your breath. Sliding out and lying on the bed, he quickly pulled you close, hungry to feel your warm skin against his. You quickly snuggled next to him, breathing in the scent you loved very much. Your bare chest next to his, his legs tangling with yours, and the echo of your breaths filling the room that had so suddenly turned quiet. 

“I love you, Law” You purred against his neck, as the adrenaline ran out of your body and your heart was slowing down. 

“I love you too, [Name]-ya” He answered back, kissing the top of your head, his inked arms squeezing you against him. 

Law’s soft warmth embracing you, as you listened carefully to his breathing slowly dragged you into a drowsy state. Tired from such a long day, and such an intense night with Law, of course you’d feel sleepy after this. And you thanked the gods for having Law treat your stress with such a passionate session, you were going to sleep like a baby tonight. 

After Law noticed your sleepy state, his smiled to himself and brushed your hair gently. He closed his eyes, feeling both proud of himself and glad. Proud because he was the only person who could tame the vicious beast feared by anyone who saw your wanted poster. And also glad because of it. Because such a feral creature was so gentle and shy with him. And soon, Law fell asleep, still thinking how lucky he was not only for having you in his crew, but keeping you to himself. You were one in millions, and there was no way in hell he was going to give you up. 

[ask-vaal-hazak]

I just left a homebrew dnd campaign I've a message for new DM's

If your running a campaign for 2 ppl and there level 3 do not throw cr 6 and 9 monsters at them. For the love of the divine do not.

Extremely fustrating and deadly. And dont use the monsters from a homebrew forum bc it just sounds cool. Bc that "cool" cr 6 hag going against a lv3 party with multiple attack. Multiple spell cast and spell immunity and able to polymorph into any creature it wants at will is devastating.

Just to rant here. I lost 3 characters in 1 hour. My lv 3 barbarian (minotaur zelot). My battlemaster (centaur) and my wizard (yuan ti)

To be a dm ya have to balance and make sure every fight isnt designs to just upright kill ppl at the start bc. 5d12 worth of dmg with multiple attack on a hag or any creature. Is friggin broken.

There no way in hell a monster for a party of 2, level 3 adventures should hit for 5d12 (3 times) and be able to cast 2 spells (at will without using a spell slot) EVERY ROUND. And on top of that have a movement speed of 90 and an ac of 23. (I asked the dm to let me see what he was using and thers more. Swim of 30, fly of 300 ect this is pretty much a god with its stats but the cr says 6. It dosent even feel like a 6. More like a lv 20 broken sack of crap)

This is the reason there are tutorial guides in the book(s) and youtube to show you why you should look at cr then your players levels b4 u design an encounter.

I cant describe how fustrating it was to see my barbarian. Who I spent 5hours making just get tapped lightly and die. Bc 48 hp at lv 3 and taking well over 10 pts of dmg bc apparently she crit me on all attacks and only did like 1 attack to our female player (for 2 dmg with a level 6 scorching ray [its bs] ) was "Fair bc your a barbarian and should be able to tank this EASILY" (quote the dm.)

If there is a way to piss off players it's this and having a game were you get railroaded so hard it's a traveling trip with skill checks with a minimum of 18-20 to notice something like a bear on the road when the weather is CLEAR and everyone is PAYING THE HELL ATTENTION ON A BANDIT HIGHWAY. Not to mention the SCREAMS OF A CYCLOPS AS IT LITERALLY SMASHES INTO THE CARAVAN ACROSS A PLANE WITH A FEW TREES ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD.

Oh and let me not forget the NPCS WHO WANT TO SLEEP WITH EVERYONE BC THEY THINK THERE HOT AND DESERVE A NICE HOT MEAT ROD FOR THEIR SERVICES OF INTRODUCING THEMSELVES.

*Facepalm* my god....oh and if your thinking

"GEE-WILLY Mr. Person surely it couldnt be that bad?" This guys campaign was pretty much parappa the rapper, jojo bizarre adventures, bloodborne, Resident evil and memes.

I had a character who came in and apparently they caused the world to have wormholes? (Somehow) and referenced it everytime we played even when that character died. In session one. Bc apparently a company named (I kid you not) Shoe Rack was the equivalent of resident evil's umbrella cooperation. Complete with a drow leader and a litch bookkeeper who turned everyone into zombies to work for free while they apparently made diamonds to sell for millions of gold and keep the workers working g for 1 copper every month. Only giving gold to ppl that would sleep with them.

Not to mention apparently everyone in this world had magic resist or spell immunity to everyone except to females. And when I made a female char apparently that rule became I valid and it was just a straightforward

Me: does a 17 hit?

Dm: well it would but .... *they grin*

Me: but?

Dm: they use a special ring to catch the spell and cast meteor swarm on you point blank.

Me: well they get hit too I just stabbed them with a dagger.

Dm: no you see it's a SMALL METEOR THAT ONLY HITS THE PERSON THAT HIT THEM

Me: so they and my teammate. Who has literally been stabbing them are fine?"

Dm: yes

Me (takes like 589 pts of dmg and is ded)

Dm: the litch turns to you and asks if you want a cup of coffee.

Female player: umm sure?

Dm: whoo-yeah. Combat over you get 500 go and a date with the litch.

Me: I'm sorry what?

Female player: umm...ok. awsome.

Me: ......ok cool so I'll just bring in-

Dm: no that's cool the litch revives yorubas a female zombie slave.

Me: why?

Dm: and you need to have sex to keep yourself alive.

Me: yeah no. I'll just bring in my centaur battle master

1 hour later

Dm: you take umm..let's see *rolls dice.*

Me: (waiting)

Dm: *rolls a shit ton more dice*

Me: (waiting)

Dm: oh oh no *grins*

Me: (takes 40 dmg) I'm still up

Dm: how?

Me: I have 48 hp....I'm still up

Dm: ok it's your attack I guess.

Me: rolls a nat 1 "ok I guess I have disadvantage on my next att-"

Dm: rolls a d100 and a d10 (the percentile)

Me: what are you doing?

Dm: rolling for severity of your fail. Btw how much dmg does your lance do?

Me: it does 1d12 dmg and why are you using severity. That's not in 5e and you said we-

Dm: as you fail you accidentally stab yourself in the throat as your spear hits a rock and you take *rolls dice* 35 pts of dmg

Me: ok I'm out that's bs. Number one and two I have a lance and thers no way I can do 35 dmg. I get about 24 dmg on a crit and 28 if I use my racial feature to kick a person at max with a crit.

Dm: oh your just being salty, you dont play fair!

Me: excuse me?

Dm: ALL YOU DO IS PLAY SPELL CASTWRS AND THATS CHEATING!

Me: bc everyone has spell immunity for some reason or only takes 1/4 the dmg. I'm pretty much useless and am being fored to play melee unlike our LOREMASTER BARD who got an item to DOUBLE HER DMG AND SPELL SLOTS AND CRIT ON A 15 PERMANENTLY (this is the female btw)

Dm: well maybe you should have slept with the litch

Me: she literally found that item in a store for like 3 silver and when I looked (with a 17 arcana check) I found a rusty dagger and a flask of poisoned potion.

Dm: well maybe roll higher?

Female player: umm I rolled like a 10 and found this that's kind of cool but I dont think it's fair. But o wanna keep my items

Dm: ugh fine. You keep yours. Ummm (to me) I guess you get a potion of greater healing for....umm 500 go.

Me:.......nah I'm good, FUCK IT. I'll just make another spell caster Oops. Cant do that. How about a nope. Cant make a barbar I'm going to make a artificer

Dm: cant do that

Me: why?

Dm: they're broken its not good.

Me: *with the book* not broken..ulyou know what why dont you make me a character and I'll use that.

Dm: hands me a sheet

Me: reads "Zonia the sexy zombie elf sex slave that gets stronger every time she has sex?" *Looks at everyone* ok I'm out enjoy the campaign.

Dm: we cant have a dnd adventure with only 1 person.

Me: yes you can you've been doing it since session 1. I'm out goodbye. I'm still running my campaign on sunday. I wont hole anything against you. But I will not sit here and be shit on bc I refuse to kiss yur ass and make a slut of a character. Pull your head from your ass. I'm taking my stuff and I'm out.

Dm: but I need the dm screen and the mat and the markers.

Me: then buy your own or use theater of mind. I'm out.

Like how bad is it to want to be a dm to shit on ppl. THIS, THIS IS NOT OK. and no one wants a zombie sex slave that can only have sex and has a str of 0 a con of 30 a dex of 1 a cha of 40 and so on. Its friggin stupid!

Anyway that's my rant. Im....I think I'm just done with dms and crap I just want to play a dnd game I can be happy with. And not always be the Forever dm. Who has players challenge everything. Like why as a monk they cant use sleight of hand to CATCH A FRIGGIN FIREBALL AND/OR AN ARROW AIMED AT ANOTHER PERSON.

Anyway leave a comment or add on I'm just burnt out and glad I could get this rant off my chest

[ongaku-ato-kakikomi]

So after that hurtful monster prom break up, I'd like to request the Monster prom cast being proposed to.

(A/N): Here you go, hun! Sorry it took so long, I hope you’ll like these :)

Miranda Vanderbilt :

Marrying Miranda Vanderbilt was the only thing you wanted to do for a very long time, the whole thing becoming a wild dream of yours that would hopefully be true someday, until you decided that you couldn’t wait and decided to propose to her.

Only proposing to Miranda, meant first one thing: and that was to ask for her hand to her father, the king of an oceanic kingdom, who was and still is the most terrifying creature you had ever met. But for the sake of your gorgeous girlfriend, you shoved down your fear and asked for a private meeting.

And when you asked him if you could marry his daughter, you were surprised to hear his reaction.

“Finally!” He had put his hands in the air, a glad expression on his face. “I thought you would never ask!”

He then gave you his mother’s wedding ring to propose to Miranda with, a ring that he explained was in his family for a few generations, and told you to not hesitate to ask for his help to give his daughter the proposal of her dreams. Despite being shocked and also utterly happy to have his blessing, you accepted his help, and he managed to prepare for you the most gorgeous setting you could ever ask for.

He paid (or threatened… you never know with this family) the beautiful Botanic Garden to help grow flowers specifically for the proposal, a place that Miranda has always wanted to go to for years.

And so one night, when you invited her to walk in the magical gardens, the two of you were taking the amazing sights of flowers and sparkling lights with wide smiles on your face, Miranda’s grandmother’s ring sitting nicely inside your coat’s pocket.

“This is so beautiful.” Your beautiful princess looks back at you with a sweet smile. “Thank you so much for taking me here, (Y/N).”

“Miranda…” You spot the flowers that were grown for you and her, and you make a sign for her to look at it. “What do you think of this arrangement?”

“Hm?” She turns at the flowers expectantly, squinting her eyes when she notices that they’re forming words. “What does it say? Is it… marry me, Miranda-”

She gasps in surprised, tears coming to her eyes as soon as she analyzes the situation, and then turns back to you only to see that you have already knelt down. She hides her mouth with her hands when she sees you present the ring to her, a million of thoughts coming to her head.

“Miranda, I love you so much… I don’t wanna spend another day without you by my side.” Your smile stretches out, your own tears threatening to fall down. “… will you marry me?”

“Yes!” She jumps at you before you can even give her the ring, her arms wrapped around your neck while she cries on your shoulder. “Yes, I will marry you! Oh, this is the greatest night of my life!”

She parts away to let you put the ring on her finger, then once she takes a good look at it, she grabs your head and crashes her lips against yours.

“Oh, (Y/N)!” She gives you another kiss before parting away, your heart bursting inside your chest from happiness. “I love you so much!”

And you love her too, more than anything in the world.

Damien LaVey :

It took you a long time to find the perfect ring for Damien.

I mean, it’s Damien. You couldn’t just take any random ring in a jewelry store, that would be too boring. No, you needed to get the most intense wedding ring that could ever exist, and that meant forcing the witches to help you put a spell on a ring so it could always be on fire.

Amazing idea, right? Yeah, but the plan you had was a little longer to execute than expected, because convincing the witches to help you was more the most difficult thing in existence. I mean, you took  days to do master manipulation and subtle threats that never worked on them, only to end up telling them the truth (“Fine, I want the ring to always be on fire so I can propose to Damien with it.”) and instantly got a positive response from them (“Oh my god, of course we’re gonna help you! That’s it’s so sweet!”).

Let’s face it, it’s not the way you would have normally go with them (threatening is so much more fun), but you already waste too much time on the ring so you went with truth and kindness instead.

And it worked. A simple spell from them, without even needing a little sacrifice, and you got the wedding ring of Damien’s dream. You couldn’t wait to propose to him with it, so much that you decided to just give him the ring without any other kind of preparation.

“Is that…” His grin widens at the sight of the fire enveloping the ring. “A fire ring!?”

You give him a smile from your place on the couch. “Yep.”

“Awesome!” He doesn’t wait to put on his finger, chuckling at the flames trying to eat his red skin without any success. “Thanks, babe.”

You lose your smile at the lack of reaction, then quirked an eyebrow at him. “Don’t you wanna know why?”

He looks back at you in confusion. “Hum… why?”

“Because you’re getting married.”

He blinks at you in silence for a few seconds then gives out a smirk. “I am?”

“Hm-hm.” You bite your bottom lip, suddenly fearing that he might say no. “On Friday.”

“Really? That’s pretty fast.” He approaches his face to yours, a proud glint in his eyes. “To who?”

“To me!” He laughs out at your annoyed expression and your face scrunches up in embarrassment when you realize that he has been messing with you, then you stand up to walk away. “If you don’t want to, I’ll just find someone else-”

“No, you won’t.” He grabs your hand and pulls you back towards him, ending up falling into his lap and getting trapped with his arms around you. “Because we’re getting married on Friday.”

A wide smile breaks out of your lips, his own starting to give your shoulder small kisses. “Promise?”

“You’re the one who asked the question remember?” You let out a small giggle, almost getting tickled by his lips. “Hope you like hell, ‘cause that’s where it’s gonna be.”

Nothing would make you happier than to marry him. Doing it in hell is just a bonus point.

Scott Howl :

When you decided you wanted to marry Scott, you instantly wanted to make your proposal something sweet and special, just like he has been to you ever since you’ve met. That monster was the most kind and precious person you could ever dream to love, and he deserved all the good things in life you could give him. And although choosing a ring in a jewelry store wasn’t that special of a gesture, you could make the proposal the most amazing thing in the entire universe.

You had planned everything. When he would go coach his football team for one evening, you would take the time to hand-write little notes of why you deeply love him all attached together, ending it with the famous question ‘will you marry me?’ at the end that would then reveal the gorgeous ring you chose a few days earlier in the box. Then tomorrow, when you would spend the day together, you will let him ‘find’ the box somewhere in the house and wait for his answer.

Hopefully, he says yes.

That’s what you think as you finish taking your shower, drying yourself with a towel as soon as you get out of it. Your notes for your proposal were all finished, the box left on your bed and now waiting for you to find it a place to hide it until tomorrow. You can’t help but giggle happily when you think about getting married to Scott, the whole idea feeling like a dream that will come true.

“I’m back!”

The entrance’s door closing make you drop your smile, your eyes going wide upon hearing Scott’s voice.

The box is on the bed!

“(Y/N)? Are you home?”

“Y-yes!” You try your best to put on the clean clothes you took with you, which consists of a very loose shirt and black sweatpants. “I’m in the bathroom!”

“Oh, what’s this?”

“No-” You open the door of the bathroom and stops when you see Scott already reading the little notes. “Oh god-”

“You’re the source of all my joy-Awn.” He turns his head at you to send you a smile. “You’re the source of my joy too!”

Despite your heart warming up at his words, you can’t help but feel stressed out seeing him continue reading your notes, the man getting closer and closer to the ring. You hide your mouth with your hands, frozen on place.

This is happening. This is really happening. I’m proposing to Scott… and I’m wearing sweatpants! I can’t propose to Scott wearing sweatpants-

Scott gasps, taking the ring out of the box with sparkles in his eyes, but they seem to get even brighter when he looks at you.

“We’re gonna get married!” All your worries go away as soon as he says this, a heartwarming laugh escaping your throat when he takes you in his arms for a tight embrace. “We’re gonna get married!”

“Y-yes!” You still giggle when he suddenly attacks your face with kisses, his lips feeling like a million butterflies against your skin. “Yes, we are!”

“I’m so happy…” He puts his lips against yours for a moment, only parting away to look back into your (e/c) orbs. “I love you so much!”

Your smile widens. “I love you too.”

You honestly couldn’t marry a better person.

Liam de Lioncourt :

Finding Liam the greatest ring of all time wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be.

I mean, you had this amazing idea of finding a ring that was made the year he was born, which you thought would be almost impossible to do since Liam is literally centuries old… but guess what? With a little help of Vera, you managed to unearth the perfect ring from the darkest corners of a very old Antique Store, and now you’re always carrying it in your pocket while waiting for the perfect moment to ask him to marry.

So yeah, finding the ring wasn’t hard at all, but convincing Liam to settle down in a marriage (possibly for eternity, as well) will probably be the most impossible thing you would ever have to do. Remember how hard it was to get him to just accept he could love someone without it being ‘ironically’? Or how it took you weeks to make him want to truly become your boyfriend, with and without the cliché moments? Or how you had to give him a huge list of logical reasons why your lives would be easier if you lived together? What do you think it’s gonna take for him to want to marry you?

Luckily, you’re not the kind of person who gives up before even trying. So, one random afternoon at your place, you sit down beside him on the couch, looking at him read an 80’s Hungarian book for a few seconds before you speak up.

“Liam.”

He slowly turns a page from his book, but his head slightly perks up at the sound of your voice. “Hm?”

“You love me… right?”

He blinks at his page in confusion then turns his head at you with a small smile.

“Yes, I love you.” He quirks an eyebrow when you give out your own grin. “Why are you asking me that?”

“So, since you love me… it’s okay for me to assume that you like spending time with me.”

“Yes… that is true…” He closes his book, curious to where you’re going with this.

“And since you love me and enjoy spending time with me, then you might wanna do it forever… right?”

“Where is this coming from?”

Your lips stretch out at his confusion. “Just answer my question.”

He sighs, replacing his glasses on his nose as he thinks.

“I suppose that…” A red blush creeps up on his cheeks when he imagines a lifetime with you. “… being with you for eternity would be… a little more than nice…

“So you wanna marry me.”

He looks back at you with wide eyes. “Pardon?”

“If you wanna spend eternity with me…” Your cheeks almost hurt from how much your smiling. “Then you wanna marry me.”

“I-I… well-I won’t lie…” He seems to be at lost of words until his yellow eyes look into yours. “… I did think about it one or two times.”

“Good.” You take the ring out of your pocket, his eyes widening at the sight of it. “Because I wouldn’t want this ring to go to waste.”

“How did you- When did you-”

“Just say yes, love.”

He lets out a nervous chuckle. “Yes… I will marry you.”

You let him take the ring to put it on his finger, his eyes memorizing all the details of it before he looks at you with a smile.

“What would I do without you?”

“I have the same question for you.” You approach your face to his, still grinning happily. “You do realize I just manipulated you to marry me.”

“I wasn’t manipulated.” His own smile turns to a proud grin. “You only proposed before I had the chance to do so.”

“Wait, you-” Your eyes go wide in realization. “You wanted-”

It only takes him a second before he traps your lips within his, one of many ways he chooses to show that he’s thankful to have you in his life, and finally parts away to show the ring he had bought for you himself.

“If we’re doing cliché, might as well do a double proposal, no?”

Polly Geist :

If there’s one thing that hasn’t change in the years you’ve been with Polly, it’s her need to always go party somewhere no matter the time nor the place. Sure, you’re both not as excessive as you used to be,  but you still crash random parties you weren’t invited to or go drink on a roof until dawn, watching fireworks and giggling together. It’s something you hope that never changes, but if you could ever hope for something it’s to get the chance to spend eternity by her side, loving her and cherishing her with all of your heart and mind.

Finding her a ring was something hard to do because you couldn’t just buy any random rings for her. It needed to be a ring that she could wear, a ring that was ‘dead’ enough to be in a ghost form, but also a ring that you knew she would love.

It took a little help from Liam, both of you going in dark and unknown places to try and find the most perfect ring for Polly you could ever find without her knowing anything about it. And thanks to them, you did, finding a sparkling ghost ring in the oldest antique shop Liam could find for you. You could never thank him enough for that, having promised him to help him with anything if he ever gets in trouble (which you might regret later on, but who cares? It’s for love). And now there was only thing you needed to do.

Asking the question and hoping for a positive answer.

“You’ve been quiet for a while.”

You look away from the colorful fireworks popping off in the black sky to watch your girlfriend’s face, the ghost woman taking a sip from the bottle you’ve been sharing all night while grinning at you. You giver her back a bright smile, grabbing the box inside your coat’s pocket.

“Tonight’s perfect.” You give her cheek a kiss, proud to see her blue cheek turn red. “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

She lets out a giggle. “Oh yeah? I thought you said I was annoying.”

“Hm… sometimes.” You take the bottle from her hands, approaching the tip to your lips to take a sip. “I wouldn’t love you if you weren’t.”

“Oh my, thank you. I feel so special.” She looks back at the sky, her eyes lightening up at the fireworks. “You’re right, tonight’s perfect.”

You keep looking at her, the pop of colors in the sky reflecting inside her soul.

“We’re living a pretty good life, right?”

Polly’s lips stretch out. “Oh yeah. Wouldn’t trade it for nothing else.”

You take the box out of your pocket, catching her attention, and her eyes open wide as soon as you open it to reveal the ring.

“Wanna do it forever?”

“Oh my god.” She puts her hands in front of her mouth, then puts them down. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god-”

“I need an answer, Polly-”

“Yes! A thousand times yes!” You let out a laugh as you put the ring on her finger, then get cut off when she suddenly throws herself at you. “This is amazing! Oh my god, I love you so much!”

She puts her mouth against yours before you can even answer, then just keeps giving your lips kisses despite your laugh.

“I love you too.” You finally manage to say the words when she parts away, your smile stretching out as you look at her happy expression. “It’s too late for you to run away now.”

She snorts. “You realize that just sounded like the interdimensional prince, right?”

Your expression falls down to a horrified one, making your fiancee laugh as hard as she ever did.

Vera Oberlin :

Ever since you picked up a ring in a jewelry store, you’ve been asking yourself the same question over and over.

What if Vera doesn’t want me to propose?

Not that you don’t think that she doesn’t wanna get married. She’s actually been pretty clear on the subject for the last few years you’ve been together. She would like to spend the rest of her life with you, even if you both become criminals and get locked up, she wants the two of you to stay together. It’s a sweet thought, although you’re glad none of you have been arrested and that she has calmed down with age, and you couldn’t be happier to know that she wants the same thing as you.

No, what you’re wondering is if she would want to be the one proposing to you instead of the other way around. I mean, it’s what happened with most of the important events in your relationship. When you asked her to prom, she refused before she got on to invite you instead a few seconds later. Same thing happened when you asked her to be your girlfriend… and don’t even try to remember when you brought the idea of moving in together.

Vera likes to be the one with the big ideas, and so you’re not sure she would like it if you were the one proposing.

But you couldn’t just ignore that perfect wedding ring you coincidentally saw in an Antique store. It was a silver snake with black diamonds forming its eyes, the animal wrapping itself around the person’s finger and forming a beautiful ring. Everything about it screamed ‘Vera’ to you when you saw it, and you bought it before you could even think about if she would like it or not.

So now, you’re just waiting and worrying while you continue your everyday life with your gorgeous girlfriend, trying to act like you’ve never bought a wedding ring for her even though it’s always hidden in your pockets every time you two go out… even when you’re just grocery shopping.

“Do we still have chili at home?”

Vera’s staring at the spices on the shelves when she asks you that question, holding unto your grocery basket full of food while the snakes on her head look around. You let out a giggle when one of them gives your cheek a small lick, your left hand fidgeting with the black box in your coat’s pocket the whole time.

“Didn’t we bought some not too long ago?”

“I think we already used it all, but I’m not sure…” She stays silent for a moment, then grabs two bottles of chili spices. “Let’s take some just in case.”

“Of course.” You give out a grin. “And you sure it’s not because you love spicy food?”

“Shut up.” You giggle at her words, her cheeks blushing in embarrassment. “You never complain about it.”

“True.” You put your lips against her cheek, leaving a small kiss before parting away. “I love you too much to complain.”

Her lips stretch out under your touch, her eyes looking up at you. “Can you go pick up pasta?”

“Sure, I’ll be right-” The loud thud of something hitting the ground stops you in the middle of your walk, your expression faltering down when you look down to see the ring box between you and her. “…back.”

You both stare at the black box in silence, feeling the tension rising inside your chest and your head when you see that she is just staring without moving an inch. You suddenly feel like this is a bad idea, that you shouldn’t have bought the ring and brought it with you wherever you went. You should have waited to know if she wanted to be the one to do it or if she wanted you to-

“Do it.”

You blink, looking back at her to see that she’s looking right at you. “Huh?”

“I said ‘Do it’.” You see her lips stretch out wildly, her breathing hard from the excitement.  “Do it!”

“O-okay-um…” You kneel down to pick the box ring, already being in the familiar position to ask the big question, and you look up to stare at her red eyes. “This is not where I thought I would do this, but…”

She lets out a sharp breath, her smile widening.

“Vera…” You open the box, taking out the snake ring between your fingers and showing it to her, ignoring the few gasps from random people arriving in the isle. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” She lets you put the ring on her finger, her eyes mesmerized by everything that’s happening right now. “Y-yes… why-”

You stand up with a huge grin on your face, waiting for her to look back at you.

“It’s beautiful.” Tears appear in her eyes, a rare sight that you almost never get to see. “Why do you always do those things before I get a chance to?”

“I don’t know, but I’m glad you didn’t steal that moment this time-”

You yelp when she grabs your shirt to shove your mouth against hers, the other clients applauding you two until you part away. You stare at the determination in her red eyes, her cheeks red both from embarrassment and from love.

“I’m saying my vows first.”

Your grin stretches out. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[dweemeister]

The Little Colonel (1935)

Whenever I watch older films with black actors in subservient roles, I have a habit of pausing the film, and scrolling through their filmography. For the African-American actors and actresses that worked at Hollywood’s major studios before the emergence of Sidney Poitier, Harry Belafonte, and Dorothy Dandridge in the 1950s, they toiled in stereotypical roles that read repetitively – servant, maid, busboy, slave, villager, savage, African chief. Like many black moviegoers in the early twentieth century, I am glad these mostly-unknown actors found work, but am sick to see the buffoonish, stereotype-adhering characters they play on screen (this raises questions about whether no representation or bad representation is better, but that is for another day).

Bill “Bojangles” Robinson was the highest-paid black entertainer of the 1930s: a masterful tap dancer (tap dancing is an innovation from the minstrel show, where Robinson’s career began) idolized by Fred Astaire, the Nicholas Brothers, and Gene Kelly. His birthday, May 25, is National Tap Dance Day. Robinson’s vaudeville and Broadway career had long made him a national celebrity, and Hollywood studios looked to procure his services for bit and supporting roles. While in Hollywood, he quickly learned that he could not escape the restrictions Hollywood executives had set for non-white actors – casting directors, whether by a lack of imagination or naked racism or somewhere in between, could not envision black actors beyond certain roles.

Another American cultural fixture in the 1930s was an adorable, curly-haired girl named Shirley Temple. Months before its merger with Twentieth Century Pictures, Fox Film Corporation cast Robinson in a Shirley Temple picture, The Little Colonel. Shirley Temple movies often relegated A-list actors to supporting roles – disgruntling those actors to some extent, but mollifying their frustration with the dependable profits made at the box office. Seen today, The Little Colonel is problematic in its depiction of race relations and portrayal of its black characters. And yet, it is also groundbreaking. The film features the first interracial dance couple in American film history, and spawned a close intergenerational friendship between Temple and Robinson that lasted until the latter’s death.

It is the early 1870s in Kentucky, and life has changed little since the American Civil War ended. White landowners retain their plantations and black subordinates. Those subordinates are no longer slaves, but racially-coded relations remain. Though Kentucky remained in the Union, there are numerous veterans and supporters of the defeated Confederacy within its borders, including Colonel Lloyd (Lionel Barrymore). The colonel has learned that his daughter, Elizabeth Lloyd (Evelyn Venable), has married a Yankee, Jack Sherman (John Lodge). Furious, the Colonel disowns Elizabeth – forcing her and Jack, an American soldier, to accept a posting in the West. There, they raise a girl, Lloyd Sherman (Temple), before moving back to Kentucky six years later. Before leaving the fort with her parents, Lloyd, the outfit’s darling, is made an honorary colonel of the United States Army. Elizabeth, Jack, little Lloyd, and housekeeper Becky “Mom Beck” Porter (Hattie McDaniel) settle in a household near Colonel Lloyd’s plantation without his knowledge. Colonel Lloyd eventually learns that the happy-go-lucky rapscallion bothering him and his head servant Walker (Robinson) is his granddaughter, and continues to exile Elizabeth and Jack from his life.

The Little Colonel, shown in black-and-white, ends with a brief two-strip Technicolor scene (Walt Disney’s monopoly on three-strip Technicolor would end later that year) – a “pink party” that marked the only time Shirley Temple wore makeup in a Fox film.

Adapted from Annie Fellows Johnston’s novel of the same name by screenwriter William M. Conselman (several Shirley Temple films, including 1934’s Bright Eyes and 1936’s Stowaway) and journeyman director David Butler (another Shirley Temple regular, 1942’s Road to Morocco), The Little Colonel sees Temple play a hallmark of her characters: a precocious troublemaker whose very charm melts hearts and inspires others to do what is just, despite their personal prejudices and historical biases. Only if the real world could be like that, audiences must have thought – packing movie theaters to see escapist fare like this, to forget momentarily the Great Depression. Like any Shirley Temple picture, the film is at its best when it concentrates on its young star. Most of the G-rated humor on display is gentle, ribbing others’ sense of self-importance and their absurd, absolutist behavior (especially Barrymore’s Colonel Lloyd, who looks as if he is about to sell me fast food served in a red-and-white tub). Not even little Lloyd is spared:

LLOYD SHERMAN: Aren’t papas supposed to love their little girls? MOM BECK: Yes, honey, they should. LLOYD SHERMAN: It seems might funny to me. MOM BECK: It’s ‘cause all the Lloyds are stubborn. The old colonel is, your mama is, and you is. LLOYD SHERMAN: I’m not stubborn! Don’t you call me that! MOM BECK: Don’t you stomp your foot at me. That don’t change it, that just proves it!

Elsewhere, too much of The Little Colonel’s humor is premised in racial stereotyping. That Lloyd Sherman befriends two black children in May Lily (Avonne Jackson) and Henry Clay (Nyanza Potts) might be enough to spark outrage among millions of American moviegoers in the 1930s. As much as this decision should be commended, that commendation is tempered by their appearance – inspired by minstrel shows – and by the fact they are eating watermelon in several scenes. Barrymore’s Colonel Lloyd is not only a misanthrope, but a racist misanthrope. Where little Lloyd sees an old man who needs to be taken down many notches, few others who see this film would probably be as disarming towards him. Colonel Lloyd refers to May Lily and Henry Clay as “pickaninnies”, threatens physical punishment towards Walker and Mom Beck at the slightest mistake, and indulges in Lost Cause rhetoric that glorifies the Confederacy as righteous. He is the sort of person that many Americans on tumblr would rather not speak to over Thanksgiving dinner. For Mom Beck and Walker, the two black servants in this film are understandably undereducated. But though the film paints them as self-aware and quick-witted, it mocks their lack of education during a scene where their poor spelling and grammar is apparent.

The Little Colonel is less of a musical than other Shirley Temple films, but it is obviously not devoid of musical moments. Its one notable musical scene is without lyrics and is best known for its fancy footwork. The staircase dance between Bill Robinson and Shirley Temple is transcendent cinema. This sequence is set to an original rhyme before transitioning into “My Old Kentucky Home” (Robinson mimics a trumpet to provide the melody) and follows a late-night confrontation between little Lloyd and Colonel Lloyd. Lloyd Sherman, who has been sent away from home because her father must be quarantined due to illness, wants to see her parents – ironically, this is for the good of the film, as Lodge and Venable’s performances are indifferent. She has never been away from her parents this long, and finds herself unsettled by living with her cantankerous grandfather. But there is Bill Robinson, as Walker, to provide comfort and solace.

In this complicated, potentially dangerous dancing scene, they showcase their agility and technical ability together. Robinson was Temple’s sole tap dancing teacher; she was a quick study, soon learning how to feel the beat rather vocalize or visualize it. Without hyperbole, Robinson would later claim Temple to be one of the best dancing partners he ever had. Depression-era audiences of all races witnessed their mastery on-screen. The scene celebrates and implies that blacks and whites can address and overcome hardship together. Robinson holding Temple’s hand proved incendiary to many Southern theater owners, as many requested prints that edited out the hand-holding.

During the years after The Little Colonel’s release, Robinson – fifty years Temple’s senior – became her most frequent co-star and a dear friend (best described as a close uncle-niece relationship). Nevertheless, unlike his white co-stars, he could never embrace or kiss Temple on-screen. Robinson also stayed in and used different facilities – giving the young Shirley Temple an early, though, understanding of the racism blacks faced in America. She recalled how, on the set of The Little Colonel, Robinson was the only person in the cast or crew to treat her as an equal, never patronizing her. The two sent telegrams when apart, encouraging and motivating the other to do and be their best. This meeting of two cultural giants, their careers constrained in their respective ways, continues to provide the inspiration and joy that audiences in the Depression sorely needed – even if the films themselves reflect the most unsavory aspects of American attitudes towards race.

My rating: 7/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.