#i can never spell fuchsia right

[secondtolastfr]

meteor shower

grape / fuchsia / sunshine

[marwhoa]

request: can i request romantic hc’s for donnie, leo, and april with a friend who’s into more feminine things ? they love the mall, shopping, clothes, makeup, PINK and are never seen without a pair of heels. don’t get them wrong though, they’re highly intelligent and witty, think elle woods from legally blonde, and surprisingly strong ?? (i mean have you seen pilates girls ???)

🝮 rom. donnie, leo, april headcanons !!

donnie, leo, april x girly!reader (indiv.)

author’s notes: This was so fun, but I misread this for the LONGEST and was just like “omg cute bimbo!reader??? in love” cause i’m a bimbo in training 💕 i hope you like it!!! Also pretty sure I spelled al-naturale wrong but I didn’t feel like searching it up.

word count: 2.4k

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Donnie 💌

Pink and Purple are a good color combo, considering they’re analogous colors! So, while he had tried to push purple into your wardrobe, Pink was a suitable settle! (Though, you did find a few items to be a nice enough median between pink and purple to add them to your wardrobe, stationary supplies, and even a matching bracelet or two. This delighted him beyond imagine)

You and Donnie do have matching bracelets, in a unique purplish-pink shade of fuchsia. And while you manage to adjust yours to fit any outfit, Donnie was not much of a fan of having its material against his wrist. But, fret not! He treasures it all the same. It has undergone a couple of experiments to make it nearly indestructible and rests neatly on his tech-bo, near where his hands rest. So, that counts for something, right?

If you’ve ever been up late at night, then you know just how weird things can get around the AM hours. And, as if following the “ late-hour-culture ”, you have successfully gotten Donnie into a pair of heels. This was a planned adventure, one planned for two important reasons: 1.) for Donnie to prepare himself to willingly stand atop death trap shoes and 2.) to make sure his brothers weren’t home to catch any of it.

To prepare for this night, you and Donnie went through trial after trial of measurements to secure the perfect size in heels for him, and out you ventured to collect samples in your most FAVORITE way possible.

Shopping !!! April tagged along, and when you showed up to meet her, you met a new person—Sunita. She apparently had just as much interest in shopping. You were unsure if it was for the same reasons as you, but who cares? The best delight of shopping (aside from the cute fits, mirror montages, and fashion-show-shots on your phone) were the try-on-and-step-out-to-show-your-friends moments!

Wait, you were here for Donnie’s heels! … He wouldn’t know (he will, there was a safety-tracker embedded in your cute phone. he had one on everyone important to him, don’t worry!)

There was one particular moment walking in the store where the heel of today’s beauties ended up snapping off in escalator. Had it not been for Sunita and April’s quick hands, you might’ve gotten down these moving steps with record time! But, the most shocking part for them was when you mourned your shoes for a second and immediately pulled out a second pair (which of course was within the color palette of today’s outfit, cotton-candy pink.) Their puzzled looks were responded with you purring out a, “ What~? You didn’t possibly think I wouldn’t plan ahead for the classic ‘heel breaks’ scenario, did you? ”

They burst out laughing at that.

After a little girls time in the shops, you ended out the day with a rather nice array of choices for Donnie to try: platforms, stilettos, kitten heels, chunky heels, and wedges! How’d you pay for them, you ask? Oh, well, that’s easy. Your beloved have you an allowance on the premise that you do not question anything at all.

When the night of the plan came around, you had even snuck in some makeup. This part wasn’t hard to convince Donnie to be on board with. He wears a mask and also was vaguely experienced in make up to begin with (what, you think he beginners luck’s those eyebrows every day?)

Surprisingly yet also unsurprisingly, Donnie had no problem walking in the stilettos. Well, initially he wobbled, latching onto you, but he recovered remarkably quick. Platforms were a breeze. The platform part of this particular shoe was apparently far too perfect in ensuring the balance and comfort of the foot’s distribution with weight. You couldn’t help but be a teensy-weensy bit jealous and vowed to get yourself the same pair in your size later.

The most memorable part of this night had to be the little dance montage you both had in a pair of stilettos. This one happened to be the one and only time you ever saw Donnie almost completely shatter his ankles when you both suddenly heard the, “ We’re home! ” ring out through the layer. The struggle to release his feet from the pretty pink heels with the ticking time bomb of his brothers’ barging in was immensely stressful yet also hilarious.

He later let you convince him into an entire get up—full makeup, cutest of heels, and the best outfit you could come up with. Had it not been for the “mutant, stay hidden” part, you definitely would have hit the town.

Oh, but that doesn’t stop you guys from being able to online shop. Donnie’s most favorite creation for you was an emulator that could let you try on the digital clothes as if they were really there. This saved you from clothes that didn’t fit but also doomed your wallet!

It also allowed you and Donnie to use the emulator to wear extravagant clothes neither of you could imagine having, dancing hand in hand as the two happiest people in the entire world.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Leo 💌

So the most unexpected part was that your boyfriend had wack fashion sense. It was either a hit or miss. He would come up to you like, “ Hey, do these match? ” And you would turn to see him trying to get a nasty, worn-out basketball shirt to work with the most distressed khakis you had ever seen. At this point, they weren’t distressed, these jeans were downright TRAUMATIZED.

This led you to discover that his amazing outfit choices to dates with you had been influenced by Donnie and his far-too-extensive vault of “ Human Trends and Aesthetics “. Though, you did admit it was impressive and asked for a pdf to be sent to you.

But anyways.

Leo had a huge appreciation for your commitment to heels. Like, seriously. He has watched you climb up and down the manhole ladders in heels he only knew existed in horror movies where the killer was a gorgeous girl with heels as tall as the blades on knives are long.

You tried to convince him to try on heels.

He refused for a while.

Then you made it a sugary-sweet deal of makeup + heels.

…

He declined.

So you made it IRRESISTIBLE. Makeup + heels + outfit.

Sold! Sucker. As if that wasn’t your true plan all along.

Though, the best part had to be that once he agreed, you were like, “ Great! So, when do we go? “ and he pulled you close, placed a kiss on your head, then said, “ Now, of course. “ And through a portal you both went!

It was a boutique unlike any you had ever seen, in the Hidden City no less. He had told you about it, promising to take you one day. When he found out about your love for shopping, the passion in your voice and the love in your eyes made him want to experience it WITH you. He spent an undisclosed amount of time figuring out if there was a clothing shop in the Hidden City.

And gosh, the shop he found? Boy does it have RANGE. The shopkeep could even change the color of an item with the twirl of her wand! How perfect was that?!

The way your expression lit up had Leo completely and utterly smitten. Together, you guys tried on clothes, sliding open the curtain to see the other’s choice. You would either swoon or laugh too hard at Leo’s choices, quickly turning him back into the room and tossing different clothes to him with a, “ Wear this what those jeans—oh! And add this! Then try this shirt with those shorts! “. Leo was always left speechless, though maybe he just loved looking at you just that much. You truly could make anything work out.

Considering it was his venture, Leo took the bill (with money that may have been his own earned cash or maybe Donnie’s money that no one really knows where it came from….. anyways), and the two of you began your venture out, to a less populated place to teleport out. On the walk, Leo decided to be a gentleman and offer to carry your bag. I mean, how heavy could it be? It was just a little sumthin here, lil sum there. You obliged, of course, with a dazzling smirk, sprinkled with a bit of mischief.

When you hands your bag, letting it go in his hand, he didn’t even have enough time to let out a yelp of any kind. Just, silently dropped to the ground.

“ Whuh—Why’s it so heavy?! How did you—“ He stared up at you walking away, turning just to give a teasing grin, “ What? You offered to carry it! No takesies-backsies. ”

He flexed a bit, straining as he got back onto his feet and goofily ran to catch up with you, “ Y/N, wait! How were you able to carry these?! In THOSE heels? ” This time he let out a “ gyiuu “ as you squeaked out a, “ And WHAT does that mean LEO? ”

You have definitely come home to Leo trying on your outfits (nothing he could ruin. Only stuff he knows fits him OR is already stretchy.)

He once tried on your cute pink overall-skirt and was having a meltdown in the mirror when you walked in. “ Leo? You okay? ” You said, slowly, stepping into your room and sidestepping towards the bed to start taking off your shoes to lay down. “ Yes, I just, Y/N, ” he turned to look at you, a smile growing bigger and bigger as he struck a pose, “ I just look WAY too good in this. ”

Cue a “ You dummy, I thought you were sad or something! “ and a pillow getting tossed.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — April 💌

With April, your relationship had bloomed on a night you were preparing together to go to the prom. Neither of you had a date, but whether that was because no one wanted to ask OR they were all too intimidated was… Well actually, it was an easy question. They were intimidated.

April, for how outgoing and overzealous she was. In a good way. You, for how impressive your makeup and commitment to heels were. The two of you were seen together almost always, having become friends in middle school and been basically inseparable. Of course this meant you knew about her dearest four friends below the ground.

But never mind that, they aren’t the focus here. You and April are.

Your relationship had begun the night of prom. April was done quicker than you—as is what happens when one person wears makeup and the other doesn’t, “ al-naturale “ she would call it, purely joking of course.

You were dolling up, placing the final touch—glossy lip gloss upon your lips. As you dragged the tube along your bottom lip, you had made eye contact with April in the mirror and smiled. She was sitting on the bed’s edge, leaning back and completely distracted by your reflection.

“ Yes? ” You purred, pursing your lips and rubbing them to uniformly coat them in glossy shimmer. The tube clicked against April’s desk as you turned to her with your usual cute grin. “ Y/N, uh—“ April stammared, hopping off the bed—stumbling a bit on her balance— and then tripping into you.

Her hands caught on the desk behind you, pinning you there while she was dangerously close. A stuttering mess, she glanced at your lips then into your eyes, “ Y/N, will you, um—the Prom! Yeah, will—You—Um… ” The dark hue blooming on her cheeks stirred a melody of giggles from your lips.

“ Go to prom with you, April? We already are. ” You teased, raising your eyebrow while tilting your head. She leaned back, releasing you from the cage. That made you frown a bit, but she didn’t catch that.

April spun, her back to you, then hit the bed a few times with a muffled scream. Stiffly, she spun back around and dropped to her knee, taking your hand like a knight holds the princess’ hand.

“ No, Y/N, will you go to the prom WITH me, like, as my date. Not as friends, but as—“ “ As lovers? ” Your heart went pitter-patter at that, and quickly you grabbed the sides of her face to pull her into a kiss, “ Of course, April! ”

That prom night had been the best and the most eventful. Not only did you get the last dance with April, at the school event’s adjourning, a mutant had become a party crasher.

Giggling a fit, you tried to keep up with your dearest April, but she was vaulting over all kinds of things! You were agile and strong too, don’t get it twisted, but you weren’t APRIL O’NEIL agile! She looked like a parkour video straight off YouTube! Still your giggles continued, calling out a, “ April, April wait up! ” Your hand reached out, and she of course stopped to take it, “ Y’know, Y/N, if you took off the literal HEELS, you might run faster! ” She hoisted you up and over a thrown garbage bin.

You gave a playful glare and screeched, “ Like hell I will! I would rather DIE than be stripped of my LIVELIHOOD! ” April laughed along with you then yanked you into her chest, cushioning the tumble you both took while narrowly dodging debris that flew past your heads, “ Hush up, Y/N, you might jinx it and get that wish! ”

She sent emergency calls to the boys, and realistically speaking she might have genuinely stood a chance to that party-pooper mutant (and honestly, you probably could’ve done a good number on it too) but..

Who didn’t like a romantic life-or-death run together?

April definitely makes jokes about how you could probably have taken Shredder down in heels. The boys (coughdonniecough) are always quick to try and explain how, um, actually no?

She never misses a chance to go to the mall with you. Doesn’t always get anything, but do you really think she won’t want to spend her free time with you? Blasphemy if you think she would rather do anything else.

Also, April loves giving you kisses right after you’ve glossed up your lips. They are so smooth AND she gets gloss afterwards? Score. Watch out though, she will pepper kisses all over your face. You may have to wipe gloss off ( don’t worry, she refrains from doing it if you have a full face of makeup or so. Aside from lip gloss/lip stick, she would never want to ruin your creation. )

[doctorstrangereview]

Strange Tales #126

Cover Date: November 1964 On-Sale Date: August 11, 1964

It all changes here! In celebration, Doc reclaims some cover real estate and the blurb even depicts a scene from the story. What changes? Doc meets Dormammu! Up until this moment, Dormammu has simply been one of the funky names Doc calls on to put the whammy on his foes. Also, until now, most of his foes haven't been all that impressive on power level with Nightmare and Loki being the possible exceptions. And Doc doesn't call on either to power up. Dormammu is on whole other level.

Our story continues immediately after Doc's battle with Baron Mordo last issue. We see his astral body returning to his physical body. Now, Mordo's body should be in the house as well, but that never gets addressed. He must have gotten out somehow; we definitely haven't seen the last of him. No sooner than getting up from his comfy, funky chair (sadly, not the one with the dragon head), he's in the grip of a powerful spell, without his consent, that manifests itself as a floppy white and yellow bullseye. There's a nice touch from Ditko. Doc goes in the top of the bullseye and at the spell's terminus, The Ancient One's pad, he comes out the bottom. It even has a funky curl, like it's squeezing him out.

The Ancient One is dressed today in a fine frock. The original coloring is red, but the Masterworks recoloring makes it a vivid fuchsia. Once again I prefer the recoloring. Today's crown has less ostentatious horns that the last story but the detail is more intricate. The Ancient One makes a ghost thing visible to Doc just as it leaves. Doc prepares himself to jump to the old guy's defense, but he's like "Don't worry about it, he's just a messenger of the Dread Dormammu. Oh, by the way, Dormammu is gonna invade our dimension and take over. I just got back from being Mordo's captive and haven't had my old man nap yet. Can you deal with this?"

"Sure thing, daddio! Send me!" And Doc disappears into some whirling and hairy dots. Perhaps this is Ditko's answer to Kirby Crackle. The next thing Doc knows he's somewhere else, floating through a ring of smoke and heading toward a nasty beastie indeed. The smoke ring is a nice call back to the splash page!

The as-yet-unnamed nasty beasty is the G'uranthic Guardian who will show up here and again. I don't know if this is actually a living being or some magical construct that guard's Dormammu's "palace." Doc approaches the nasty beastie who looks down on him and shoots out some light that probes his brain, without his consent. It's a test of some kind that Doc passes and the cool six-sided doors open for him. He steps through, and we get get our first look at how bat-crap crazy Ditko makes this very brightly lit "dark" dimension.

That's right, the other side of this door is floating in nothing and Doc is walking along a floating ribbon all curled up. Nightmare's realm was weird, but this is drug-trippy crazy! What was Ditko on? This imagery continues throughout the story, so get yourself a copy if you want to see it all.

Next, we get our first glimpse of Dormammu. He doesn't quite look like his popular image yet. For one, he's wearing a two-tone green thing with funky shoulder accoutrements and not the purple we're used to seeing him in. His head isn't surrounded by flames, but smoke and his head is blue, instead of red. He only has a hint of eyes. He's also sitting in a funky throne. We will later learn this is the Azure Throne and it is almost never depicted as blue.

Dormammu is like "WTF? Who the hell is this? Where's The Ancient One?" One of the sychophants surrounding Dormammu isn't toadying up enough and dares to question Dormammu's ability to instantly wipe out the mortal and he instantly imprisons them until he doesn't feel like it anymore.

Meanwhile, Doc is facing a series of challenges as he moves toward the big bad. His first challenge is a little yellow creature who feeds on spells. Doc figures this out quickly and feeds him until he pops like a balloon. This is being watched by a certain silver-haired lady. Yes! We are finally introduced to the as-yet-unnamed Clea. At first he thinks this is The Ancient One returning, but realizes it can't be "for he is young -- and fair to behold!" While Clea's libido gets fired up, Doc is drawn into some object that looks like a flying magic carpet. "Oh well," thinks Clea, "better luck next time."

Doc defeats a bunch more of Dormammu's minion who appear before him. Dormie's not happy. He banishes them to limbo.

Dormammu is like "Enough of this! If you need something done, you just gotta do it yourself. Bring it on, earther!" Clea senses things are coming to a head and decides to shout about it.

The entrance Dormie conjures for Doc is just bizarre. It's like a big sheet of paper with a mini, desaturated bifrost coming out of it. Clea attempts to warn him off, but Doc proceeds to the ominous assignation. Doc finally confronts Dormie at last! "I won't kill you until the Ancient One shows up." Doc replies "Nah! You gotta deal with me." "No really, send in the Ancient One." "Nope. It's gonna be me." "You're funeral, blue dude!"

And we break here until next month. Last month was great, but this is just freaking crazy! Ditko is in top form here. Who knows how many pencils were ground to little nubs to draw these 10 pages? Visually, it's spectacular. Ditko had spent a number of stories with lazy backgrounds, but he must have been saving it up for this story. Dormammu's motivation for invading earth isn't exactly original, but it starts a great story. There isn't really anything in the way of plot holes. It doesn't mess with continuity. And it's the springboard of a new era where the villains are more powerful and the stakes are greater. I can't wait for part two!

[fictosapphic]

❤️🧡💜 pls give me juicy bradh.eron lore - sol

OH WATCH OUT IT GETS ANGSTY. (finale spoilers, major character death, sorry if the formatting is shit im on mobile)

❤️ how did they meet? was it love at first sight, immediate enemies, or something in between?

fuchsia is scrooge's director of public affairs, so she works with the board of directors on many occasions. she developed a soft spot for bradford almost immediately, and finally mustered up the urge to ask him to coffee-- as coworkers, of course! he swiftly declined, claiming he was "far too busy", so she got curious and followed him in secret after a business meeting, only to discover he was "busy" with fowl.

b: "ms. flocke?! what on EARTH are you doing here?"

f: "i... wanted to know what you were up to. you know, for the sake of, uhh, public relations?"

b: "you DO realize what this means, right? i'll have to--"

f: "you don't need to threaten me, sir. i have no stake in scrooge's success."

b: "...what about your pay?"

f: "that cheapskate's been underpaying me for all the years i've worked here. thinks he can lowball me because i'm young... but I'M the one doing damage control when his little ~adventures~ get out of hand! when his stupid magical artifacts cause property damage, it comes out of MY paycheck! if it weren't for me, he'd--"

b: "get to the point."

f: "...if you're plotting his downfall, count me in. and besides, i... i've always sort of... had feelings..."

(she can't look him in the eye.)

"...about income inequality. strong feelings, yeah! like, he's the richest duck in the world, and i can barely make rent every month? how's that fair?!"

b: (he quirks an eyebrow.)

f: "i'm on your side, br-- ahem. director buzzard."

b: (his gaze softens a bit.) "'bradford' will do just fine."

when he introduces fuchsia as the new recruit, she's a bit shy and starts to worry if she's in over her head. heron thinks she's ADORABLE, though, and immediately starts fawning over her and trying to get her in on villainous schemes.

🧡 how do they become friends? do they ask up front or is it a gradual realization?

heron and fuchsia hit it off as friends almost immediately, and heron helps fuchsia come out of her shell. bradford never really considers fuchsia a friend, or at least never vocalizes such, much to fuchsia's frustration. he's a tough nut to crack-- she can't quite coax the truth out of him when it comes to how he feels about her (or heron, for that matter)

💜 how do they confess? is it a grand gesture or in a more mundane moment?

heron gives fuchsia a literal peck on the cheek after calling her "just DARLING" and fuchsia gets the hint. the two of them do nonstop sappy pda shit from that moment on every time they're together.

bradford is so oblivious to fuchsia's feelings, and fuchsia keeps quiet herself until [FINALE SPOILERS IN CASE SOMEONE READING THIS HASNT SEEN IT IG?] bradford kills heron by pushing her into the black hole.

f: bradford?!?! what is WRONG with you?

b: (he wordlessly lurches towards her with the intention of killing her next.)

f: i LOVED heron! and i know YOU loved her too! and you know what else? i... i loved YOU!

(fuchsia knows she's got nowhere to run, so she throws herself into the black hole, depriving bradford of the satisfaction that would come from killing her himself.)

(maybe it's peaceful in there. maybe she reunites with heron and the two start a new life in some other faraway universe. bradford lives out the rest of his days as a pet bird, not smart enough to reverse the spell but aware enough to be haunted by the knowledge that he fumbled TWO bad bitches.)

[kawaiibaphomet]

Blue, black (In an ace, aesthetic way) and... Fuschia? Fuchsia? I can never spell it right, lol (Gointothevvater 🖤)

Blue/black: You are my Tumblr crush/I would date you

Awh, I'm glad you find my blog aesthetic crushable! :3 I think that's super sweet! ^_^

Fuchsia (damn this word really DOES suck to spell lmao): I wish I could become your best friend through the internet

I lowkey think this all the time, I just have social anxiety lol ;_; My DMs are always open tho! <3 Drop on by whenever you like, lol

[sleepy-mercury]

episode 5

!!! warning spoilers under cut !!!

my unfiltered thoughts as i watch the latest TPK episode

everyone investigating the murder scene, looking for secret passages and cricket just wants a book on wyverns and forests

toni and willow holding hands during the invisible escape gives me the mental image of primary school children on a school trip <3

pete showing off his bird impressions that ben’s nat 1 can definitely not copy

the discussion about whether peeing breaks invisibility is so ridiculous and yes this is what every single dm has to deal with

this entire escape is a comedy of errors and bad rolls

someone needs to give dooey (is that spelling right?) a fidget toy that is not oversized d20s

kendall is so bad at rolling wow an 8 on an advantage

ben’s genius escape but also invisible spiders this is the second week no i dont like this

the dramatic music when the party is split rule 1 of dnd is never split the party this was never going to end well

this has been the most stressful hour wow

“you can drop invisibility” “absolutely not!” toni needs all the help possible to stay hidden

FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

oh this fight is not going well poor siggy might need a bit of a nap after this

oh maybe it actually is going well good lying there but this military now has a lot of fake secrets going around

cricket walking toni back with an invisible rope while they are both invisible like he is walking a dog wow

jack laying out the situation after pete rolls bad on survival is just so funny this is such a ridiculous situation

world lore! white moon called Lexinoth blue moon called dera orange moon pelaris pale fuchsia moon fothess

willow playing group therapist asking if everyone is emotionally ok is so sweet

the fun fact of frogs not having willies is not a fun fact i needed from pete

this episode was a wild ride an hour of stressful escape then a comedic struggle back together then some deep deep lore about this murder wow

[flavia-draws]

@synesthete-culture-is synesthete culture is making this oc based on a person i see in the word “perhaps.”

she needs a better name than perhaps. something else lavender. this is like that anon who wanted to websearch yellow pronouns.

maybe Maria that’s kind of soft purple fuchsia

the first thing I can think of is Lania which is just lavender because it looks like lavender

it’s also bubbly like bubble bath

turns out I misspelled fuchsia the first time, I wondered why it didn’t look right

it’s funny, the other word I could never spell was also a color (now I can cause I’ll tell you the reason later but I didn’t used to be able to for the longest time), turquoise

aaaaaanyway, about the drawing

this was the first time I did highlights as well as shading on anything but hair, the sun’s kind of all over the place but I think it looks good anyway

I have to go to sleep now end ramble post now

[wisteriashouse]

desire.

pairing: rengoku kyoujurou x reader

genre: fluff, slight nsfw

word count: 4811

This demon is unlike any other that you’ve faced before.

“Kyoujurou, pressure the left flank and drive it towards the middle! We’ll corner it with a pincer attack!” You call out as you leap through the treetops, relying on the meagre light of the half moon to see where you’re putting your feet. Beneath you on the ground, Kyoujurou calls his affirmation, keeping tight on the demon’s tail. “Remember to keep an eye out for his Blood Demon Art!”

It’s the first time either of you have seen a Blood Demon Art like this one. Instead of the usual ability to hurt or deal damage in the most unexpected ways possible, this demon’s ability makes you deeply besotted with the first thing you lay eyes on. The spell had not been limited to animate creatures, and both you and Kyoujurou had solemnly promised to never speak of this night ever again.

After a while, however, you and Kyoujurou had gotten much better at avoiding the bright pink smoke that the demon released — although the spell was potent, it was short lived. Darting forward, you leap down from the trees as Kyoujurou thrusts forward with his blade, forcing the demon to jump out of reach and right into your path.

With a shout, you grip your sword tight and swing. “Breath of Snow, First Form, Snowflake Slash!”

The demon, unable to dodge your attack, screams as your blade cuts through his neck as easily as slicing running water. In that moment, familiar fuchsia clouds erupt from his body, enveloping you in them completely. You gasp in surprise, throwing your hand over your mouth, and leap away urgently to avoid breathing it in, but you’re a little too late. A few meters away, you can hear Kyoujurou calling for you, panicked.

You stumble towards his voice and out of the dissipating smoke, feeling a little lightheaded. “I’m fine.” You reassure Kyoujurou the second he dashes over to you, concern written all over his face. “I just didn’t expect the demon to make a last ditch effort like that, so I was taken by surprise. I won’t let that happen again.”

Kyoujurou waves the remainder of the pink smoke away from your face before glancing behind you. “It seems that the demon has been slain indeed!” The body has already started to disintegrate into ash. He turns back to you, carefully looking over your form for any injuries. “Are you sure that you are alright? You must have inhaled a lot of the smoke just now. Do you feel anything off?”

A little confused as well, you simply shrug. You had expected yourself to have already been trying to kiss the life out of a rock on the ground, or perhaps be in a passionate embrace with a tree. “Maybe it’s because I’ve already slayed the demon that its spell has no effect? I’m just a little hot and sweaty from the battle and I really want a shower...” You clap Kyoujurou on the shoulder lightly with a reassuring smile before sheathing your sword. “Come on, our work here is done. Let’s head back to the town for the night.”

He nods, but then fixes his gaze sternly on you. “If you feel anything strange, tell me immediately!” His golden eyes are filled with worry for you, and warmth blossoms in your chest in response. “Understood?”

You hum in agreement. “Of course.”

As if the two of you had already used up all the luck you had on defeating that demon, the first inn both of you had come across only had one available room. Too exhausted from the fight earlier to search for another inn, you haul Kyoujurou with you to your designated room, good naturedly ignoring the man’s protests that you should get the room. 

“You can sleep over there, and I’ll sleep over here.” You tell the Flame Pillar after pushing him into the room with you. He stands rigidly in the doorway, still hesitant, and you laugh at the conflicted expression on his face. “Come on, Kyoujurou. It’s the middle of the night and the two of us need to set off early tomorrow morning, so we should get as much rest as possible.”

“Yes, but it is not proper for me to sleep in the same room as you!” Kyoujurou tries to protest, looking at you helplessly. “I could sleep outside while you take the room, and-” You put one hand over his mouth, cutting off his words.

“As if I’d allow you to sleep outside when we have two perfectly good futons in the room.” You scold as he looks down at you seriously, golden eyes bright even in the dim light of the room. “Really, Kyoujurou, you’re so sweet and honorable that it’s a little annoying. You’re a man of principle and a precious friend. I’d trust my life with you, Kyo.”

You feel Kyoujurou swallow under your palm at the weight of your words before he reaches up to pull your hand away from his mouth. His gaze doesn’t leave yours. “Then I will not break the trust you have in me.” He says earnestly, squeezing your hand. Satisfied with his acceptance, you smile at him and hold out your hand playfully. “So, janken to decide who gets to shower first?”

Kyoujurou pulls a rock, while you put out a paper. You suspect he lost on purpose, but he admits nothing with that unflappable smile of his, shooing you to head to the baths first while he lays out the futons for both of you. 

As you gather the robes the inn has provided you, you fan yourself with one hand, staring out of the window in confusion.

Why is tonight so unbearably warm?

>>>

Kyoujurou is stirred awake in the middle of the night.

“Kyoujurou...” The voice calling out to him is familiar and yet not, so desperate it almost sounds like a whimper. He briefly wonders if it’s a dream, because the owner of this voice would never speak to him in this manner. His arm is shaken again, more insistent. “Kyoujurou, please wake up, I need your help.”

The second time his name is called, it’s undeniable: it’s your voice.

And you need him to be awake right now.

He’s reaching for the sword lying next to his bedding before his eyes even fully open, sitting upright and searching for you. “What happened?” He asks urgently, turning to look at you... and the sight that he’s greeted with has his heart seizing up in his chest.

You’re curled up in a ball next to his bed, shivering uncontrollably, soft pants leaving your mouth. Panic floods through him at the state you’re in, and in an instant he’s by your side, dropping his sword onto the bedding. “What’s wrong?” He brushes your hair from your face as gently as he can, and is shocked to feel your forehead damp with cold sweat. A cold? A fever, perhaps? It must have been serious enough that you couldn’t make it over to his bed on your own two feet. “Are you feeling unwell? What do you need?”

A little whimper leaves you, and the sound tugs at his heartstrings. Heart pounding in his chest, Kyoujurou quickly moves to slip his arms under your body to lift you onto his bedding, before he rushes to pull on his haori. It’s clearly an emergency. “Just wait here,” he says urgently, “I’ll find a doctor and get back to you immediately-”

His eyes finally adjust completely to the dark, and whatever words he’d been about to say die in his throat, replaced by a choked intake of breath.

Your fingers are buried under the hem of your sleeping robes, your hips rocking against your palm as a stream of needy whines escape you. It’s his name, Kyoujurou realises, mind blank as he stares at the wanton expression on your face, unable to look away. You’re touching yourself as you moan his name.

“T-the demon’s... ability!” You manage to get out, between tiny, hiccupping moans and a pained whimper that sends the blood right to his groin. “I woke up and I felt like my body was burning... I tried everything I could do to get off, but nothing works!”

Kyoujurou swallows the small lake in his mouth before he forces himself to move, dropping to his knees next and averting his gaze to look away from the sinful noises your hands are making. There are tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, and he tries to ignore the heat pooling in his own belly. Focus. He chides himself sharply. You’re suffering the effects of that demon’s spell, and he’s the only one who can help you. Focus!

“What do you need me to do?” He tries to keep his voice steady even as you let out a little cry of desperation, clearly unable to find the satisfaction you need even as you grind against your own hand. “Some water? A doctor?”

“No, I need you to touch me, Kyoujurou,” you force yourself onto your hands and knees, and in the next second Kyoujurou finds you in his lap, your mouth on his neck, sucking and biting frantically. A sharp groan escapes him when your teeth tug at the skin of his collarbone, his hands coming up on instinct to steady you as you squirm in his lap. He can feel you soaking through the cloth of his robes. “Kyoujurou, please, touch me, kiss me, anything...”

“Wait-” He tries to say, but then your mouth is on his, hot and wet and his mind goes blank. All he knows is the intoxicating scent of you that surrounds him, more potent than the demon’s spell, and the heat of your mouth as your tongue slips into his mouth, stroking his and begging him to play along. A shudder runs through his entire body. “Wait, you cannot-”

“I’m begging you, Kyoujurou, I need you!” A frustrated sob leaves your mouth and you grind yourself against the firmness of his thigh, your entire body shaking like a leaf above him in want. He’s painfully hard and you’re utterly relentless, not giving him a single moment to breathe. “Please, I’ll do anything, just touch me!”

His breath lodges in his throat. “I-”

Clearly too impatient to wait for him to actually do something, you push him down so that he’s sprawled over the bedding before your mouth drags down the exposed skin of his chest, your fingers slipping down to his groin and squeezing. A trembling moan escapes him as pleasure flares through him like a red hot flame, burning and licking at every nerve ending in his body. He can’t find it in him to push you away.

Instead of you, Kyoujurou feels like it was he who was struck by the demon’s spell.

“Kyo...” You beg, pressing kisses all over his cheeks and forehead, and his heart stutters alarmingly at the intimate nickname that only you call him by. “Take me, please. That’s all I need. I need you in me.”

“Please, you need to stop-” He tries to focus, but then you’re rocking against him and he lets out a choked moan of your name as he trembles beneath you, trying to keep his hips from bucking up into yours with sheer self will. His breath falters into short, heaving pants, head spinning, and he’s losing himself, pulled closer and closer to the edge. No, no, no-

I’d trust my life with you, Kyo.

Your words from earlier hit him like a punch in the gut, ice in his veins. He’s never felt so ashamed of himself.

Right. You trust him. You trust him with your life. And he’d promised never to break it, not now, not ever.

You pull his fingers into the wet heat of your mouth, sucking desperately on them and Kyoujurou nearly whimpers at the feeling. Why did it have to be you? He wonders, heart pounding in his chest. Anyone but you, he would have easily been able to push away. It was you, only you-

You bite down on the pad on his finger, and Kyoujurou snaps.

In the blink of an eye, he’s the one of top, one of his hands pinning yours above your head. You’re taken by surprise, looking up at him with wide eyes filled to the brim with desire, your chest heaving beneath him. “Yes, Kyoujurou.” You pant, legs winding around his hips to draw him closer to you. “Come on, just take me already-”

“This isn’t what you want.” Kyoujurou breathes, more to himself than to you. You whine beneath him in protest, but he forces himself to turn his ears from your breathless pleas. “I won’t allow myself to do anything to you when you’re in this state of mind.”

He reaches for the belt lying on top of his uniform, looping them once around your wrists and tying them tight. Realising what he’s going to do, you panic and begin to thrash about in his grasp, sobbing his name desperately.

“The demon’s spell should wear off in a while.” Kyoujurou murmurs, wrapping you so tightly in his bedding that you can’t move an inch. The cry of distress leaves you pierces Kyoujurou all the way to his heart.

He leans over, brushing the hair from your eyes with a shaking hand. “I’m sorry, darling.” Letting himself be weak in one regard, he bends down to drop a gentle kiss on your sweat soaked brow. “But the one I don’t trust around you is myself.”

With that, he grabs his sword and flees the room, never turning back.

>>>

If there is a hole, you want to bury yourself in it and never see the light ever again.

The lust induced haze that had clouded your mind the night before had lasted throughout the night, only dissipating in the face of the sun’s morning rays to leave you utterly mortified at what you’d done. Briefly, you wish that the spell hadn’t worn off so that you wouldn’t have to feel this embarrassment.

Kyoujurou had entered the room only after the sun had risen, his usual confident gaze averted as he undid your trappings, both of you too awkward to look at each other in the eyes. As he frees you, you can see the dark shadows under his eyes - had he been awake the entire night?

Kyoujurou had, in fact, been awake the entire night, ears plugged with scraps of fabric as he kept watch outside your room in case any stranger got too close to your room.

“Are you...” Kyoujurou begins hesitantly as he wipes your face with a damp towel. “Are you... alright?”

You nod without a word, eyes firmly fixed on your toes, unable to look at your friend. How do you apologise? How do you say sorry for making things so awkward? You had practically tried to force yourself on him last night, and gods bless him, he had resisted you as if you were the Muzan himself trying to corrupt him, which wasn’t too far from the truth.

“That’s... relieving to hear.” You can hear the strain in Kyoujurou’s voice, and then he’s rising to his feet, moving quickly towards the door. He’s already dressed in his uniform and haori, his sword hanging from his hip. “When you feel well enough to move, you can head to the tavern below for breakfast. I’ve asked the innkeeper to make you porridge that’s nourishing and easy on the stomach. You should take it easy today since you’ve had a rough night yesterday. I’ll be going first.”

Panic floods through you; you haven’t apologised yet, and that strange air is still hanging between the two of you like a thick smog. You hate it. “Kyoujurou, wait-” You try to say, but before you can continue your sentence, he’s already gone.

Feeling utterly rejected, you sit there on the bedding, fingers twisting into the sheets anxiously.

He doesn’t hate you, does he?

The next time the two of you do meet, it’s at the semi-annual Pillar meeting.

About a month has passed since the ‘incident’, and while you would usually use this time as a opportunity to catch up with Kyoujurou, excitedly chatting with him about all the things that you’ve done over the past months, this meeting is different.

Kyoujurou won’t even meet your eyes.

You spent the entire meeting lost in your thoughts, not unlike Muichirou but perhaps several times more anxious. Even Sanemi pointed out your inattentiveness with a scowl and you tossed a rock at him, leading to both of you snapping at each other like squabbling kittens until Oyakata-sama had raised a finger to his lips to shut the two of you up.

After the meeting, the rest of the Pillars had dispersed to their own business, and you’d desperately tried to search for Kyoujurou. The Flame Pillar was naturally loud and quite difficult to miss with his bright hair, so the only reason to as why you couldn’t find him would be that he was avoiding you.

You felt your heart sink, anxiety twisting in the pit of your stomach.

Maybe he really hates you? Does he not want to be your friend any more?

The thought frightens you more than the prospect of fighting an Upper Moon. Forcing yourself to think, you rush to the Rengoku Estate as quickly as possible, searching for your friend.

The moment you reach the Estate, Senjurou sees you at the gates and his eyes immediately light up like miniature twin suns. “You’re here!” He calls delightedly, dropping his broom and rushing over to tackle you in a hug. “Older Brother came home earlier without you, so I was wondering where you were! You still haven’t taught me how to make sweet potato wedges for Brother to eat!”

You smile at Senjurou, patting his hair down gently. “No rush.” You try to say as calmly as possible even as your heart races. He’s here. “Before that, could you tell me where your brother is first? I need to talk to him about something.”

Senjurou might not have any talent as a Demon Slayer, but he is extraordinarily perceptive when it comes to emotions. His eyes widen in worry. “Did you and Brother have a fight? Is that why he came home without you today?”

You swallow.

“No, not a fight. It’s difficult to explain.” You say hesitantly as you squat in front of Senjuro, so that the two of you can talk eye to eye. “Something awkward happened between the two of us, and I’m not sure if he still wants to be friends anymore.” Senjurou looks at you in concern, before he reaches over to pat your hair, trying to comfort you.

“I’m sure Brother will want to make up with you.” Senjurou reassures you earnestly. “I mean, Brother loves you! He talks about you all the time, and he always looks so happy when he does. He’ll definitely still want to be your friend! If he doesn’t...” Senjurou’s voice trembles. “If he doesn’t, I’ll not make him roasted sweet potatoes anymore!”

A small laugh escapes you at that and you kiss the crown of Senjurou’s head lightly. “Thank you, Sen, but Kyoujurou might actually die without your roasted sweet potatoes.” Feeling a little better, you glance about the Estate. “Then, could you tell me where he is? I’ll talk to him right now.”

“He’s in his room.” Senjurou pulls you to your feet and pushes you in the direction of the residences. “Hurry! And good luck!”

Giving Senjurou a hasty wave, you leap over the rooftops to Kyoujurou’s room, landing lightly on the engawa outside, so familiar that you recognise the pattern of the woodgrain beneath your feet. Kyoujurou and you had spent so many days here at the Rengoku Estate before both of you became Pillars, training together in the summer, drinking tea in the spring, roasting sweet potatoes in a pile of leaves in autumn and making snow angels in the winter. All those memories are the foundation of your relationship with Kyoujurou, and the more you think about them, the more terrified you are that you’ll lose your best friend.

Hesitantly, you knock on the washi sliding screen.

“Kyo?” You call, fingers twisting in the hem of your haori. “Can we... can we talk?”

“Ahh, y/n, is that you?” His voice is energetic and bright as usual, but it sounds stiff; this isn’t the tone he usually adopts when he speaks to you. “I’m sorry that you had to come all the way over here, but I’m feeling rather tired today. Can we speak another time?”

His words drive a dagger straight into your heart. Does he really not want anything to do with you anymore?

Before you know it, a tear has escaped your eye, followed by another. More and more fall as you try to wipe them away desperately, trying your best to steady your voice. “O-okay.” You manage to get out, a little hiccup escaping you as you turn around to leave, but then door is suddenly flung open, and you turn around in surprise to see Kyoujurou standing there in the doorway, looking utterly panicked.

The moment he sees your wet eyes, his face goes stricken and he closes the distance between the two of you with a few quick steps, wrapping you in a familiar embrace. “Oh, no, darling, don’t cry, I-” At his words, you only cry louder, burying your face in his chest and clinging to him so tightly you’re sure you must be suffocating him. Instead of pulling you away gently, however, he presses tender, soothing kisses to the crown of your head. 

“Don’t hate me.” You wail outright into his shirt. “I’m sorry for what happened, it was all my fault. I don’t want you to hate me, Kyo.”

At your words, Kyoujurou lets out a self deprecating sigh and buries his face in your hair, one hand combing through the strands in an effort to calm you down. “I couldn’t hate you.” Kyoujurou promises quietly, and you sniff in response. “Not now, not ever. I apologise for making you feel that way. Look at me.”

You hiccup, unwilling to remove your face from his chest, and shake your head.

Kyoujurou lets out a soft exhale, pulling you tighter against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat through the fabric of his uniform.

“That night, it wasn’t your fault in the least, it was the demon’s spell.” He says firmly, trying to make sure you understand. “Instead, it was my own feelings and desires that I could not control, and I was ashamed of myself. I did not know how to apologise, hence I acted like a coward. I am truly sorry.”

That was why he’d been avoiding you the entire time? Surprised, you look up at him to see his brows furrowed, lips pressed tightly together as if he’s truly ashamed of himself. You shake your head frantically.

“You didn’t touch me of your own will, Kyoujurou.” You insist, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing tight. “You didn’t break the trust I had in you. Kyoujurou... you’re a wonderful man. You just proved to me even more that you would never do anything to hurt me. You-”

“But I wanted to!” Kyoujurou spits out the words like they’re poison in his mouth, you stare up at him with wide eyes. “I wanted you to kiss me and touch me, and I wanted to do utterly despicable things to you as well! I’ve been dreaming about it for months, and I’ve loved you for longer! I wanted to let you do all those things in spite of knowing that you had put your trust in me, and I-”

His words are cut off when you press your finger to his mouth, so softly that it feels like the first snow against his lips. 

Your heart seems to have stilled in your chest. “Repeat that again, Kyoujurou.” You breathe. Kyoujurou goes deathly still in your arms, and you hear him swallow. His heart pounds so hard in his chest you can feel its beat against your palm.

“I love you.” He whispers, his voice almost choked with emotion. His golden eyes are fixed on you and only you. “I love you very much, to the extent it terrifies me.”

“If I were to say that I felt the same... and asked you to kiss me now,” your lips feel unbearably dry and he lets out a small groan as your tongue darts out to wet them. “What would you do?”

“Love you back even more until there is nothing left of me to give.” Kyoujurou promises breathlessly, his hands gripping yours tight. Every word that leaves him is a vow of its own, its sincerity rivalling that of his dedication to the Demon Slayers. “And kiss you until my breath runs out.”

You take a deep breath, and take another step forward, until your body is pressed entirely against his, so close the heat of his body warms yours to the tip of your toes.

“Then make good of your promise, Kyoujurou.” You breathe. “Kiss me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. In the next second one of his hands are at the back of your head, pulling you forward gently so that his lips can meet yours, his other hand cradling your jaw as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. You raise your own hands to bury themselves in his hair, his lips sliding along yours as you kiss, your eyelids fluttering shut.

When you part your mouth slightly to flick the tip of your tongue against his lips, Kyoujurou lets out a low groan deep in his chest before his own tongue slips into your mouth, your breaths mingling as you try to press yourself as close to him as possible. You can feel yourself growing lightheaded, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away, all you can think about is how you want more, more, everything that Kyoujurou is willing to give.

Luckily for you, however, Kyoujurou notices that you’re slowly dying from asphyxiation and pulls away so that you can gasp your breath back into your lungs, a light chuckle leaving his lips as he looks over your flushed cheeks and reddened lips. 

“Beautiful.” He says, and your cheeks burn. Burying your face in his chest, Kyoujurou laughs brightly at your shyness, trying to coax you out. “Come on, let me see that face. Passion looks absolutely exquisite on you, my darling.”

You shake your head in his embrace, utterly embarrassed at his words. “How do you still look so calm?” You complain as you look up at him, and Kyoujurou chuckles. He takes one of your hands and presses it to his chest, and you can feel his heart racing under your palm. “My heart does not calm when you are near, I can promise you that.” He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “It has been this way for years.”

The sound of something dropping makes the two of you turn your heads, and you’re shocked to see Senjurou standing at the end of the engawa with his mouth hanging open, a tray of roasted sweet potatoes at his feet. He stares at the two of you, eyes clearly taking in your flushed expression and putting two and two together.

You really need a hole to bury yourself in.

“So...” Senjuro’s voice is tiny. “I assume the two of you made up?”

“Well, yes-” You squeak out, mortified at having been caught in such a scandalous position by the child who’s looked up to you as his elder sister. You subtly try to extricate yourself from Kyoujurou’s grasp, but he only grins exuberantly at Senjurou

“More than that!” He shouts gleefully, his smile so bright its almost blinding. “We feel the same!” You let out a squeak when Kyoujurou scoops you easily into his arms, his lips dropping a flurry of affection all over your face until you’re sure all the blood is in your face. “We’re together!”

Senjurou’s eyes light up and then he’s throwing himself in for a hug, Kyoujurou laughing like he’s the happiest you’ve ever heard him in your entire life. Utterly embarrassed and too happy to say a word, you only bury your face in your hands, trying to hide the flush of your cheeks.

“I won’t break the trust you have in me.” Kyoujurou vows, his lips nuzzling into your hair. “Everything I promised, and even more than that, I’ll make good on all of them.”

You smile shyly, and kiss the tip of his nose.

“I believe you.”

[expensiveglasses]

Charming Finale

Summary: Prince Jungkook was as infuriating as he was beautiful. In line to one day be king, he requested your guidance in the ways of his people. In turn he will make you laugh, give your family fine gifts, and become an invaluable friend. Unfortunately, he will also make you fall in love with him. But the most unfortunate thing of all was his betrothal…to Snow White

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Fantasy, Angst, Snow white/au

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: 7659

Warnings: The first few pages of this chapter deal with the fall out of OC’s decision, so there’s confusion, hurt, anger, etc. This story ends happily, but the first part of the chapter is a little more emotionally painful so be aware. . .

It’s not true what they say about death. The black doesn’t remain. You were surrounded by swirling shades of violet, fuchsia, and azure. Lights bursting behind the shade of your quickly cooling eyelids. Your limbs were stiff but your vision was alive and swelling. There was a consciousness you’d never known death could hold, that allowed thoughts and dreams to roam openly.

Visions of yellow daisies erupting left you breathless when suddenly there was an explosion of color and you were gasping for air, eyes shooting open and blinking in the confusion of the aftermath.

Fingers tingling and breast heaving, your vision finally came into focus and your gaze shifted to the figure leaning over you. “Jungkook?” You breathed.

Jungkook’s eyes were red, cheeks swollen with tears and you watched in surprise as he lurched forward, burying his face in your chest and crying. “I thought I’d lost you!” He wailed. “How could you do something so stupid? I need you, you’re everything to me!”

Your breathing was shallow, evening out with the life that was filling your chest. “What about Snow?”

“I could not wake her.  Only true loves kiss can break the spell.”

“How did I wake up?” You asked softly.

“I kissed you.” Jungkook murmured, his tears slowing with his exhale as he lifted himself from you.

You took a deep breath as you tried to allow your thoughts to settle. “You…kissed…me?”

“I had to try.” He whispered, “I love you.”

You watched his face carefully as you took deep breaths. Your body felt heavy from death, like you’d slept too deeply and woken suddenly.

 “Help me sit up?” You asked softly and Jungkook complied, helping you to sit up against the trunk of a tree.

You were still in the forest and morning light was seeping through the openings of the trees. “How long have I been…asleep?” You asked delicately. The dwarfs stood behind Jungkook’s kneeling figure, faces the picture of relief.

Jungkook frowned, eyes dimming. “You were missing 3 days. The dwarf’s found you this morning and I came as soon as I could. I thought I’d lost you.” He repeated weakly.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled. “I thought I would never see you again and couldn’t bear the thought of it. It was a very selfish thing to do, I admit.”

“Yes, it was.” Jungkook scolded and you stared in surprise. “Death is a very permanent solution to such a temporary problem. You can’t just have a tantrum when things don’t go your way. Even if I had been able to wake Snow you would have recovered from the disappointment. We all recover and move on with our lives, that’s the way of things.”

“I thought you said you loved me, why are you yelling at me?” You muttered into your lap.

“I do love you,” Jungkook sighed, “but I’m mad at you.”

You nodded, clasping your hands together. “I understand.” Silence descended and you blinked in thought. “What will happen to Snow? Will she remain asleep forever?”

Jungkook paused, blinking down at you before pushing his hair from his brow. “I find in my sorrow I neglected to tell you everything. Snow is alive and well.”

Your eyes jumped up to his, eyebrows knitting together. “But you said you couldn’t wake her.”

“I couldn’t.” Jungkook affirmed, “But it turns out the huntsman could.”  

“Oh.” You breathed.

You supposed you shouldn’t have been so surprised; all the signs were there. You had just been so consumed with Jungkook and his destiny that you hadn’t paid much attention to what could have been happening between Snow and Diterich.

“Perhaps we could make our way inside.” Doc smiled and you glanced over Jungkook’s shoulder to return the gesture. “We are preparing supper and have warm blankets. It will take some time to recover from the effects of the poison.”

Jungkook stood suddenly, sliding his arms under your legs and around your waist to hoist you into his arms. “Please, lead the way.” . . The fire was warm and full as Jungkook placed you in the large chair in front of it, taking the proffered blanket from one of the dwarfs and spreading it over your body. You felt a bit too warm as you sat there, watching everyone prepare the food but Doc insisted you stay exactly as you were so that the heat could help you sweat out the remnants of the poison; much like a fever.

“What now?” You asked softly, holding onto Jungkook’s hand while he sat on the floor beside you. “Your father will be extremely unhappy about this turn of events.”

“I imagine so.” Jungkook mused, staring into the flames. Silence engulfed the two of you and you chewed on the inside of your bottom lip in thought. Even now, with Jungkook at your side and Snow awake from another’s kiss, there were no guarantees Jungkook’s father wouldn’t still insist on them marrying.

 They were betrothed, after all.

“I suppose it’s unreasonable to think you could be with a commoner.” You murmured, bottom lip trembling despite yourself. “I understand if you have to go.”

Jungkook turned to look at you sharply. “I have no intention of leaving you. I thought I lost you twice, I will not lose you again.”

“But your father!” You insisted, sniffing and rubbing a tear from the corner of your eye.

“I don’t care.” Jungkook said, lifting onto his knees and sitting in front of you. “You own my heart; totally and completely. I can’t continue without you and I refuse to do so. I’ve tried to do my duty my entire life and now I want to do something for me.”

“How selfish of you.” You smiled softly, a gesture that he returned, lifting your hand to his lips and leaving a soft kiss.

“We’re all entitled to a little selfishness sometimes.”

“Well come now,” Happy beamed, patting his belly cheerfully, “the supper is ready and we should have full stomachs before such heavy talk.”

“Stay put and we’ll bring some over to you.” Doc hummed, ladling some of the stew into a wooden bowl and handing it to Grumpy to bring to you.

“Thank you.” You murmured, taking the bowl from him and he offered you one of his rare smiles, patting the top of your hand.

“You really scared us, girl.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, “I really am. I didn’t realize how many people my decision would impact.”

“You have many people that love you, dear.” Doc smiled, bringing a bowl to Jungkook and sitting down across from you with his own. “Sometimes we don’t see what’s right in front of us, but it doesn’t mean it’s not there. We’re glad you’re safe.”

“I would miss you.” Bashful blushed and Dopey nodded his head vigorously.

“I would miss you too.” You smiled.

“Well, tuck in. Sleepy, could you bring the bread?” Doc called. The other dwarfs came with their own bowls and a loaf of bread that everyone divided between them.

Conversation was light and jolly as they talked of music and celebrations.  The bread was warm and buttered, melting on your tongue and the stew was hearty and filling. By the time you’d finished your food you felt full and as though you’d sweat a river. 

Jungkook looked at you, chuckling. “You’ll need to wash yourself.”

“How preposterous. Commenting on my state in such a way.” You tutted, attempting to push the blanket from your lap before Doc pushed it back up, insisting you wait.

“We’ll prepare a bath for you. We’ve sent for your mother; she will help to bathe you.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary!” You insisted, face warming.

“My dear child,” he said softly, holding your hand in his own and speaking gently, “you’ve been dead for 3 days. You’ll need the help. Would you prefer one of us help you bathe?” He chuckled.

Jungkook looked positively mortified, “what an outrageous jest!” He said, gesticulating wildly, “that would be completely improper.”

“I see your sense of humor remains stiff and serious.” Grumpy commented offhandedly, shuffling from the room.

The dwarfs settled back into their conversations; comfortable by the warmth of the fire. Shame filled your chest as you stared down at the prince, still sat on the floor beside you, fingers locked around yours. His face was puffy and red from crying and your heart thumped uncomfortably at the thought that you’d caused him so much pain.

“Jungkook.” You murmured and he looked up at you, eyes wide in inquiry. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking…I just assumed that you’d be able to wake her and I would be forgotten…I couldn’t…I just couldn’t handle it. I’m so sorry.”

Jungkook hurried to his knees, rubbing the tears from your cheeks with his thumb as he soothed you with gentle words. “I know. I would have missed you terribly. I did miss you terribly. I was nearly out of my mind with grief when we found you.”

“I’m so sorry.” You said once again, watching his dark eyes flicker across your face; surveying him so close you could hardly believe you were here and now. “And…I love you too.”

Your heart jumped nervously at the proclamation. Even though he’d been the first to say it, it was terrifying to say out loud. The nature of your relationship was altogether forbidden and yet you craved him, yearned for him, loved him.

 Anyone but him would never be enough.

Tears sprung from your eyes once more; unbidden and heavy in their tracks across your cheeks.

“I know.” He whispered, nodding and stroking your cheeks once more. “It’s such a tragedy that our first kiss was while you were sleeping, don’t you think?”

You watched as he smiled, eyes crinkling at the sides. His tone of voice was playful and you pouted at him. “Don’t tease me if you mean nothing by it.” You chastised.

He grinned, glancing around the room quickly before leaning forward to press his lips against yours. “Better?”

“That was too quick.” You breathed, reaching forward and pulling him back to you by the nape of the neck. He was warm against you, hands resting on the arms of the chair to your side as he tilted his head to fit comfortably against your mouth.

“Your mother has arrived.” Doc called from by the window and you pulled away from the prince quickly, glancing towards the door.

Jungkook stood, moving closer to the fireplace as your mother entered, eyes sunken and dark. The guilt floored you once again as you took in her expression; the fear, confusion, anger. She glanced around the room, eyes darting towards the prince.

“Your majesty.” She croaked, head bowing slightly before she moved towards you.

Your chest seized as she came to sit in front of you, eyes filling with tears and you couldn’t have felt smaller. “You stupid girl,” she whispered, hands shakily moving to grab yours resting on your lap. Her tears flowed freely now. “Are we nothing to you? Your father and I? Are we not deserving of your thoughts?”

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, bottom lip trembling.

Her head fell into your lap, shoulders shaking with her cries and you felt the flames of tears licking at your throat. You didn’t feel like you deserved to cry now; not when you’d caused so much pain. It hadn’t even crossed your mind how many people cared. You felt foolish for ever having doubted.

Your mother raised her head, standing and wiping at her cheeks. “Will someone be kind enough to help me bring her to the bath?”

The prince immediately stepped forward. “I would be honored.” He said softly.

 They both helped you to move slowly to the bathing room, your arms around their shoulders and you felt like your chest might burst open from shame.

Jungkook helped you to sit on the stool by the bath before excusing himself, closing the door behind himself. Your mother worked to undo the bindings of your dress, sliding in from your form and you shivered. She’d not bathed you since you were a child and your mortification continued to mount.

“So, it’s the prince then?” She said as she unfolded a cloth and sat it on the edge of the tub before helping you to stand and step into the water. It was warm and smelled sweet like lavender. Your bones sunk heavily into the wooden basin. “He’s the one that you’ve been going to see?”

You glanced up at her, chewing your bottom lip before nodding and staring down into the water. Your mother sighed. “I suspected as much.”

“You suspected?” You asked in surprise.

“I’m not daft child.” She remarked and your fingers twisted together under the water. She bent into a squat, dipping the cloth into the water with you and using it to gently scrub your skin. “I saw the way he looked at you that day he came back. Why do you think I insisted you wear your best dress to the castle?”

“Surely you could not have foreseen this.” You said softly.

“Certainly not.” She agreed, “Though I did hope you could raise your fortune higher than we ever could.”

“Mother,” you sighed, using your fingers to trickle water across your arms, “to marry a prince…it’s a feat I’m afraid my station in life makes me incapable of.”

“Perhaps.” She agreed, scrubbing down your back. “But his devotion is clear, my child. If I am not mistaken, I believe he will fight for you.”

She moved to the front, scrubbing carefully and you watched her work, eyes blurry with tears. “I’m so sorry mother. I was so unfair to you and father.” She looked up at you, pausing her work as you cried, “You’ve given everything for me; given me a good life and I repaid you with so much sorrow. I will spend my whole life apologizing.”

Your mother tutted, lifting your chin with her finger and you looked at her blurry face. “The best apology I could get is your happiness. My dear, a mother always forgives and loves her child. Promise me you’ll fight for your future.”

“I promise.” . .

“Would you like stew?” Happy asked as your mother helped you to settle back in the chair by the fire. 

“I am a mite hungry.” She smiled, accepting the bowl from his hands and a hunk of bread. 

“What will happen with Snow now?” Sneezy asked, standing beside the hearth and prodding into the fire with a poker. “The queen is dead; Snow will have to ascend to the throne.”

You glanced sharply up and Jungkook who reached out to squeeze your shoulder. “All will be well, I’m sure. I will take care of things.”

“We need to return home as soon as I’m finished.” Your mother said from the chair by the fire. “Your father is expecting us. He wants to see you home.”

“Would you like my help escorting you?” The prince asked. “It’s a bit of a walk in her state.”

Your mother bowed her head as thanks. “I will accept the help as far as the fields. Any closer and my husband will see. I’ve told him that you were injured, Y/N, but he does not know the true nature of what happened. It will remain this way. As soon as we leave this cottage, we will never speak of it again. It’s for the best.” 

You nodded quietly, quickly thinking of a plausible injury while she finished her food. When everything was ready, both Jungkook and your mother hiked your arms around their shoulders once more, helping you from the cottage and carefully into the forest. 

The walk was quiet, despite the racing thoughts of your party, and you moved slowly so as not to weaken yourself further. When the three of you had made it to the fields, you paused and Jungkook stepped away from beside you. 

“Thank you for your help, your majesty.” Your mother said softly, bowing her head once more. 

Jungkook himself bowed, to the surprise of your mother and you smiled. Ever the gentleman. “The pleasure was mine, ma’am. Y/N…” he paused, glancing at your mother before continuing. “I will speak with my father tonight. . .

~Jungkook’s P.O.V~

The king was in the study when the prince returned that evening. He sat in a comfortable chair by a roaring fire, book in one hand and glass of red wine in the other. He nodded as his son entered, closing his book and waving him over into the seat in front of him. 

“I’m glad you’re here.” He said, setting the book and his glass of wine down on the small table beside him. He waited for Jungkook to seat himself. “I was wanting to speak to you about your betrothal.”

The prince nodded, hands ringing together in front of him. “I was hoping to speak with you as well.” He said, leaning forward onto his knees. “About Margit.”

“Yes, very sad affair this. The death of a monarch so suddenly; it’s quite a tragedy.” The king said; morose.

“The queen was trying to kill, Margit.” Jungkook said lowly.

The king looked over at him, gaze calculating. “There’s no need to be so moral with me, son. I know the details. We’re not here to talk about the evil queen, but of your betrothed. She’ll need to be married before she can ascend to the throne.”

“Yes,” Jungkook nodded, straightening slightly, “I wish to speak to you about that as well.”

“Good, then we are in agreement. The marriage should take place quickly. We will of course have to take time to prepare and send invitations. We have many people who will need to come from far so the earliest we can progress would be a fortnight.” The king blathered and Jungkook cleared his throat to gain his father’s attention. 

“If I could father, I would like to say something.” He took a deep breath at his father’s wave of approval. “You know I respect you and that I love this kingdom. I love this kingdom so much in fact, that I’ve done a lot of thinking and I wish to break the betrothal with Margit.”

“You wish to what?” The king spluttered, back ramrod straight in his chair. “You wish to break the betrothal?!”

“Yes, father.” Jungkook continued. “Margit is a wonderful woman and she will make a very good queen…of her own kingdom. We have discussed it and neither of us wishes to marry the other. We are not in love with one another.”

“What does love have to do with anything?” The king roared, eyes bulging from their sockets. “This is a political alliance of great magnitude! This is unacceptable, you will do your duty to your kingdom and your king!”

Jungkook straightened completely, staring deep into the angry eyes of his father. He looked mad with fury. “Why is marrying someone for political gain my duty, father? Do you not think someone from our own kingdom would do well?”

“Is this about that confounded peasant girl?” The king howled, standing from his chair and pacing angrily behind it.

Jungkook stood himself, quietly and with great poise. His father’s greatest weakness was how strongly his emotion ruled him. If the prince could present a calm and collected face, perhaps his father could see reason.

 “Yes, it is.” He admitted. The king stopped suddenly, turning to look at his son. “I am in love with her.”

The king opened and closed his mouth a few times, surprise clearly etched into the wrinkles of his eyes. “Well,” he blustered, “well, what’s that to do with running a kingdom? Who is this girl anyway?”

“Father, your concern is that you want what is best for the kingdom. Please believe me when I say, that is my desire as well.” The king paused a moment, scrubbing a hand down his tired face. “I have the deepest respect for you and for this kingdom. I want what is best for the people that are in my care. It is why I chose to spend so much time out trying to see the village. I will admit that it has been difficult to make acquaintances with the people without giving myself away; so, I chose to spend time studying them from afar.”

His father resumed his seat, beckoning for his son to sit again. “The people are hardworking, father.” Jungkook continued, “They are good and they are kind and I wish to know their truest needs and desires. I believe the best way to do so would be to choose a bride from among them; someone who knows intimately what it is to be a villager in our kingdom.”

“And you wish for that girl to be your wife?” The king asked, fingers bouncing along the arm of his chair as his gaze switched from the flames to his son and back again.

“I do.” Jungkook admitted. “I would do anything to have her. Anything including…including giving up my claim to the throne.”

The king turned to him suddenly, surprise renewed and his whole body tensed. “Give up the throne?!”

The prince nodded, folding his hands together and staring straight at his father. “If that’s what it takes. It is not my desire to abdicate the throne, but if that’s what it takes to have the woman I love, I would do it.”

The king spluttered again noisily before shifting a few times in his chair, as though his body was filled with energy he couldn’t seem to release. He stared straight into the fire and Jungkook could see the thoughts racing behind his eyes.

“And what of the princess? Margit still needs to marry to ascend to the throne.”

Jungkook smiled softly at his father. “I would not have suggested such a drastic change in plans if I didn’t have a solution.” He said softly. 

“I suppose you mean for her to marry a peasant as well?” The king grumbled, twisting the ring on his middle finger in quick circles. 

“Not quite a peasant. A huntsman.”

The king scoffed before groaning and dropping his head into his hands. Jungkook watched him, his heart squeezing with compassion. All his father had ever known was duty; his head was not accustomed to giving way to his heart.

He sighed, glancing up at his son, looking more tired than ever before. “You know I want you to be happy,” he said. “As a father, I want you to find happiness no matter what, but as your king, I need you to also be reasonable; to see what you’re asking of me. This is no easy thing…to marry a commoner.”

“I know,” Jungkook nodded, leaning forward on his elbows again, seeking his father’s eyes. “I know what I ask of you is difficult, but love and duty can be joined for once. I can be happy and still rule this kingdom well; better in fact, with one of its women as my backbone.”

The king smiled softly, shaking his head. “You have the determination of your mother, you know.”

“You say that as though it were a bad thing.” The prince smiled and the king shrugged.

“It depends on the day.” Silence descended on the room, only the cracks of the fire as company while the king thought. “You’ve still not told me the name of your bride.” He said finally. 

Jungkook looked up at his father, dark eyes twinkling in the light of the fire. “I think you will quite like her.” He grinned. . .

“You’re betrothed?” Else choked, standing at the doorway of her home and you smiled. “To the prince?!”

You chuckled, leaning against the timber walls. “That’s correct. You’ve met him you know…the man from the market. Jungkook.”

“That was the prince?” Else squawked and the chickens in her yard fluttered away with angry screeches. “How in the world did you woo him? How did you ever get the chance? Oh my, poor Peter! He will be so disappointed.”

Your heart dropped at the mention of his name. You’d requested your father not tell him after the prince had come to inquire after your hand. Your father had nearly fallen off his seat when the prince had expressed his desire; thought he’d about lost his mind to be asking such an absurd question. He was a prince! 

Of course, he’d given permission and then became so suddenly thrilled you thought he might just run into the streets telling anyone he saw. You wanted your friends to hear it from you, though. Especially Peter. Else was right, of course, Peter would be heartbroken. But you knew the news would be best coming from you and not from gossip. You were one of his best friends, after all. 

“Yes,” you agreed with a sigh. “I plan to meet with him today to tell him. The announcement will go out to the village tomorrow so this is my only opportunity. I’m not excited for it.”

“No, I supposed not.” Else commiserated. “You are to be queen, though! Never could I have imagined.”

“It feels uncomfortable to think it.” You admitted, leaning your forehead against the wall. “I’m not deserving of the title at all.”

Else frowned, hands going to rest on her hips as she looked at you. “I disagree completely.” She huffed, “You will make an excellent queen. You are kind and thoughtful, you keep the best interest of others at heart. You know the needs of the people. There is no one better for it.”

You smiled, shaking your head at her. “So decided are we, hey?” You sighed, standing straight and dusting off your dress. “I suppose I should go now. I want to catch Peter before he makes way home.” 

Else wished you luck, demanding further details at a later time and you left her at the door, traveling further up the dirt path. Peter lived a little further out of the village, on the farm his brother now owned. The day was beautiful and warm and made you feel calm as you moved down the lane. 

You caught Peter just before he turned on the path to his home and he greeted you warmly. “Good morning, Y/N! What brings you here?”

You smiled gently, “I’ve come to see you, Peter.”

“Oh?” He said, smiling happily. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

You cleared your throat, pointing towards the fence and he followed you there, leaning up against it, pushing the bag at his hip aside. “I was wondering if I might have a word with you.” You said softly. 

Peter seemed surprised. It was unlike you to be so formal, so timid and you could see the questions on his face. “Of course. What’s troubling you?”

You sighed, straightening your shoulders and looking up at him. “I wanted you to hear the news from me, as I think it will come as quite a shock.” You paused to gauge his reaction, but he only looked confused. You continued. “I am engaged to be married.”

“Oh,” he paused, looking stricken, “To Meinolf? He did say…well, he did say he thought he might like to do so.”

“No,” You said softly, eyeing his expression. It was worse than you’d thought. He seemed to be struggling a great deal to keep the heartbreak from his face. “I am engaged to be married to the prince.”

“The prince?” Peter repeated, numb. He stared down at the ground, hands twisting around the strap of his bag. “The one in the castle?”

You wanted to ask if he knew another prince, but understood his shock. “Yes.” You confirmed patiently.

“How?-” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, shaking his head before continuing. “How did such a thing come about?”

“Well,” you sighed, “it started rather simply. They came to our house that time, months ago as you know, after he’d returned home from school. We were then invited to the castle and after I’d taken faint, he came to seek after my health. He requested my help in getting to know the village and I thought it would be rather good to have a king who knows intimately the struggles of his people.”

You took a deep breath and Peter nodded for you to continue. “So, I agreed and we began to spend time together. I showed him around the village; had him meet some people I thought he might like to know about, and we became naturally closer.”

Peter closed his eyes, leaning against the fence and absorbing the information. Your heart thudded painfully at the pinched look on his face, but you waited for him to be ready. “And he fell in love with you?” He asked finally. 

At your shy nod, he continued. “I am unsurprised by this. You are easy to fall in love with.” He said softly. You tried not to look pitying. You hated when people pitied you and you could imagine Peter would feel the same. “But do you love him? I remember you saying something about wanting to be in love.”

He looked earnest in his inquiry, like he really hoped for an honest answer so you felt at ease to give this to him. “I do.” You said, “I love him very much.”  

He sighed deeply, licking at his bottom lip before nodding. “Then I am happy for you; you deserve happiness. I always knew you could have done much better than me.”

“Don’t say that.” You chastised, “Don’t lower yourself for my honor. You deserve to be with someone who loves you just as much as you love them. Do you think you could ever truly be with someone who didn’t reciprocate your feelings?” 

He shrugged, staring up into the sky, robin’s egg blue and clear of all clouds. “It’s hard to say for sure, I’ve never tried it. You’re probably right, though…to love and be loved in return; it sounds wonderful. I’m happy for you, Y/N. I wish you a very happy marriage.”

“Thank you, Peter.” You smiled. 

He nodded, staring down the dirt path towards his house.” I should go. Home, I mean. They’re expecting me.”

“Of course.” You murmured, watching as he nodded once more before turning and resuming his walk. . .

The view of the village from the top of the hill by the mill was particularly beautiful today. The summer was waning slowly, but leaving in its wake a shimmering warmth. You sat below the tree with the gnarl, legs tucked underneath your dress, resting your chin against your knees. 

In a fortnight, everything would change. You would no longer be with your parents; your responsibilities would be completely new. You would be expected to learn politics, languages, public affairs…it would be a lie if you said the thought didn’t make you feel faint. 

You’d do it all to have Jungkook, but you certainly hadn’t thought much passed just being with him before your dreams actually came true. Now you were expected to take on the responsibilities as your kingdoms future queen and you felt ill equipped to do so. 

The village below you was teeming with life. You could hear the calls of people selling their goods; could see the butcher’s wife walking up through the streets with a basket full of sausages to tempt people into their shop. No one could imagine that tomorrow, one of their own would be elevated to a position so unimaginable. You worried that maybe some would resent you.

Perhaps some would imagine themselves worthy of royalty and wonder why they themselves had not been given a chance. How could you even begin to explain that you weren’t given a chance either? It just sort of…happened.

No, you supposed you would just have to endure whatever fall out may come. No monarch was unanimously liked…aside from perhaps Snow when she eventually took the throne. You smiled at the thought. Yes, you imagined she would be well liked. 

“I thought I would find you here.”

You turned to find the prince moving slowly towards you, hands clasped behind his back. The breeze moved through his hair lethargically, the strands framing his face handsomely. You could hardly believe he was yours. 

“You were looking for me, your majesty?” You teased, fingers twisting in the fabric of your dress as he scrunched his face at you. 

“Yes, my future queen.”

You huffed, flushing and staring out at the village below you. “I feel faint at the thought of it.” You admitted. 

“It is a lot of responsibility.” He sighed, sitting down beside you and slipping his fingers into yours. “We’ll do it together, won’t we?’

“Yes, we will.” You smiled up at him. 

“Did you speak with Else and Peter?” He asked delicately, tracing the veins against the back of your hand. 

“I did.” You replied. “Else was very happy and Peter was disappointed; nothing I didn’t expect. They send their well wishes, though. Both of them.” 

The morning was ebbing into early afternoon as you sat on that hill top together, fingers linked, the prince’s thumb stroking back and forth across the back of your hand as you enjoyed one another’s company. 

“Do you remember the first time we saw each other again? At your house.” He asked suddenly. You turned your attention towards him as he smiled down at you. “Your family was waiting for my father and I outside your house and we hadn’t seen each other in years.”

“Of course I remember.” You smiled, “I was dreading it. I assumed you’d be that same awful boy from before, just older.”

Jungkook flushed pink, lips twisting into a lopsided smile. “I have the feeling you thought I still was after that meeting.”

You could remember his words even now, he’d treated you as though you were just a toy to be played with, something to amuse him. Even now, you couldn’t reconcile that man with the man before you today. “Yes, you didn’t make a great impression. I felt as though you just saw me as an accessory.”

His head hung low, bobbing up and down with his nod. “Yes, I apologize for that. At the time, I hadn’t realized how it had sounded. It was upon further reflection that I felt I had sounded unkind. I only meant to ensure that you would be at the castle with your father and Peter.”

“Why is that?” You asked him. 

He smiled, staring down the hillside and avoiding your gaze. “You looked very pretty. I am a man after all, and I wanted to see you again. To show you that I’d changed. I didn’t do so well that first day.”

“No,” you said with a laugh. “No, you did not do well at all that day. Did you know that my mother put me in my best dress to go see you in the castle? I couldn’t understand why she would waste effort on making me look so presentable when I was going to go see the king. Why would he need for me to look nice?”

“The effort certainly was not wasted.” Jungkook said softly and you smiled, looking up into his soft brown eyes, warmed from affection. “You looked even more beautiful that day. I could hardly believe how much you had changed. It made me feel ashamed of myself.”

“Really?” You asked in surprise and he nodded. 

“Because I had assumed that you would still be that same little girl that I had misjudged. You were amazing, though. Vivacious, beautiful, gentle, and you were so unwilling to be what others wanted you to be. That was very alluring.” 

You laughed, your chest fit to bursting with equal amounts pride and embarrassment. “You make me sound so lovely.” You mumbled. 

Jungkook smiled, hand going to rest against your cheek and you looked up at him, heartbeat accelerating. “You are lovely. So lovely. I love you deeply. You are far more than I deserve. I am only a man.”

“And I am only a woman.” You smiled, cheek nestling deeper in his hand as his thumb made waves across your flesh. “let’s be equals, shall we?”

His lips against yours was his gentle acceptance. . . ** About 2 months later **

The early morning was crisp. You stood at the balcony dressed in only your night shirt and a glass of warm tea clutched in your hands. Your attendant had recently left after waking you and you sipped sleepily at your drink. 

You’d hardly slept last night; so much to occupy your mind. It had only been a month since your wedding, but after the party and the bedding ceremony were finished and you’d been able to get a night’s rest, you’d woken to lessons and training from sun up to sun down. 

The king had been uncommonly kind; understanding of your limitations and patient with your learning. He said you were doing remarkably well all things considered. You felt he flattered you to the point of near dishonesty, but you appreciated his faith in you none the less. 

It was intimidating to jump into a role you were so whole heartedly unprepared for. You could never have truly imagined how much work it would take to become an acceptable ruler. Still, there was a part of you that was really enjoying your time learning. 

In the village, you’d been unable to return to school once your womanhood had begun. Your mother insisted you stay home and learn to tend a home when that time came; insisting it was the education you would need anyway. 

At the time, it had felt unfair, but you’d understood. As far as you knew, you would grow up to tend a home and bear children. Language and politics were of no use to you. Now, of course, everything had changed and you felt very ill equipped. 

It was still early enough in the morning that most of the villagers had not woken. You could see some smoke plumes in chimneys from your spot on the balcony, but otherwise, all was silent. A knock at your bedroom door roused your attention and you called out softly for their entry. 

You knew it was Jungkook anyway. 

“Good morning.” He said gently, closing the door behind him and making his way over towards your balcony. “I see the master of the wardrobe has not come yet.”

“I asked for a little extra time to revive myself.” You hummed. 

Jungkook moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and you could see that he himself was already dressed in his outer clothing. 

“You look beautiful.” He murmured, leaving a kiss against your cheek and you huffed pleasantly.

“I just woke up. I look like the undead.”

“Impossible!” Jungkook insisted. You could feel his interest against your back, the warmth of his body drawing you closer and you smiled as his nose drew a delicate line across your jaw.

“We don’t have time.” You mumbled as his lips made their way across your neck and collarbone. 

“I only need a few minutes.” He murmured, hands wandering temptingly upwards.

“That’s not as reassuring as it sounds.” You teased and you could hear his muffled laugh in the dip of your neck. “I still need to dress, we need to eat, and then we must travel a morning’s journey. We don’t have as much time as you think.”

You turned in his arms, placing your cup down on the table by the door and wrapping your arms around his neck. He looked unfathomably handsome this morning. Long dark hair pushed away from his face and wearing an ornate, deep blue tunic embossed in gold. 

“My prince charming.” You sighed, looking up at him and he smiled. “I still can’t believe you’re mine.”

“I’m very persuasive.” The prince hummed, rocking your bodies lightly from side to side, “My father didn’t stand a chance. I knew you would be here with me someday.”

You laughed, running your hand up his chest. “Your confidence is almost alarming at times.”

“Alarmingly attractive.” Jungkook said as you stepped away from him and back into the bedroom. You hummed your agreement and he smiled. “Shall I call the master of the wardrobe?”

“Yes please,” you said, surveying the bags of scented perfume on your bureau.

 After Jungkook returned from calling the help, he moved towards where you stood, two bags in your hands. “Which should I choose for today?”

You held each bag out for his inspection and he smelled them carefully before picking one. “You know this is my favorite.” He said, fiddling with the strings of a bag you’d left on the top of the bureau. 

“Yes, but I also know how you behave when I wear it and we can’t be doing that at a wedding of all places.” You teased. 

“True.” He grinned wolfishly. 

A knock at the door and the master of the wardrobe was stepping in at your call. Jungkook left you to get dressed with a promise to wait for you down at breakfast. . .

Snow looked radiant in her wedding dress. Deep red with gold accenting; her lovely dark hair held high in a golden snood and a crown perched delicately on top of her head. She was more beautiful than you’d ever seen her; beaming happily at Dietrich as he spoke with a wedding guest. 

The king led both Jungkook and yourself towards the couple and Snow smiled even brighter, embracing you tightly. “Your highness!” She beamed, nodding her head at the king who tucked his own in greeting. “Your majesties. You’ve all come. I am so happy to have you join us today.”

“It is the greatest pleasure.” The king replied grandly. “It is a wonderful day for a wedding, is it not? The weather is pleasant and the food is plenty.”

The hall of Snow’s castle was beautiful. The kingdom of Vildüngan was nestled in the rolling green hills of Weidenbaum auf Nidd. The décor of the dining hall reflected the nature surrounding the castle, vines draped across windows and corridors with soft pink and blue forget-me-nots and edelweiss tucked into the foliage.

The high table and three long tables in the center had been adorned with dining ware, ready for their occupants. You could smell the tantalizing scents of the kitchen wafting to where you all stood, sweet and savory already pricking your taste buds into excitement. 

“Will you be our honored guests at the high table?” Snow asked, her arm linked through that of her new husband’s. 

“How could we refuse such a generous offer?” Jungkook smiled, motioning for them to move forward and the three in your party followed after, greeting foreign dignitaries and foreign royalty on your way. 

The high table afforded you a spectacular view of the dining hall and its occupants. As everyone seated themselves, the servants began to fill the tables with food; so much you felt you could almost hear the tables groaning under the weight. 

You filled your plate with the food closest to you as you engaged in conversation with the queen from Duchy of Savoy. She spoke of her children, all too young to attend, and you smiled and laughed with her stories. 

She made you feel an anxious sort of excitement for your future with Jungkook. He was talking animatedly with the King, cutting into a shank of lamb and you tried desperately to concentrate on your own present conversation, despite how distracting he was.  

The evening waxed late when a trumpet was sounded and Snow smiled, standing tall before all in the room. “I want to thank you once again, on behalf of myself and my new husband. How gracious you are for coming to be with us this evening and to celebrate our union. There was a time not so long ago when things could have been very different than they are now.”

She glanced down at both Jungkook and you, a small smile curving her lips up. “We have much to be grateful for tonight. Your company, for starters.” The room cheered loudly, clanking cups against the wooden tables and Snow laughed. “Yes, and of course my health. I am indebted to my dear husband on that account. I am grateful for the bravery of friends that changed the tides of fate. For the flexibility of my people and the sovereigns of this land who felt that with great change, a better world could be created.”

The room was quiet, but happily so. The atmosphere was warm and pleasant, the buzz of contentedness you got from a full belly and a warm fire. You felt the alluring tendrils of sleep tug behind your eyes, but the party was still young and you hadn’t had a dance yet. 

“I hope, that going forward from this evening on, we will form a great alliance one with another; that we will remember this evening and these warm feelings. I beg we rise together, that we align together to look after our brothers of distant countries and remember we are family. I know each of you by name and you have great worth to me. Let us celebrate as long as the moon will allow and remain tied as long as our kingdoms shall endure. To our futures together!”

“Here here!” Called the room, lifting cups and drinking deeply. Jungkook finished his own glass, turning to face you and reaching for your hand under the table. 

“May we live long and reign with all the dignity and love we have in us.” He whispered.

You smiled, squeezing his hand in yours, warm and whole. You felt secure, you felt loved, and you finally felt like you’d found your rightful place. With him.

“Here here.”

.

.

I’m so sorry it’s late! I had a crazy weekend and completely forgot. It’s over, though! Can’t believe it’s done. I hope that you enjoyed and I’d really appreciate you sharing your thoughts! <3

Previous 

Copyright © 2019 by Taeken-My-Heart. All rights reserved.

[herradhighpriestess]

Love Grows in the Valley of Death

Chapter Nine:  The $64,000 Question

As Dr. Wakefield began rummaging through the ugly yellow folders in the rows of tall, grey steel cabinets, each containing four drawers of files, across town in Helena’s kitchen, Tig kept his grip tight enough that his touch brushed into near painful as his eyes bored into her, “please,” he finally growled, his tone reeking of outright, face down begging.

Helena pressed her dry lips together and tried to control her breathing, distracted by his ironclad hold, making it difficult to form words. “Can you pretend you didn’t hear the message or see the flowers?” she managed to stammer.

Tig shook his head before she lapsed into silence. He lifted a hand to pinch her chin with his fingertips as he dropped his face until their lips were a breath apart. “Talk to me,” he demanded on a whisper.

In the space before Helena spoke, her mind whirred with the intensity of the turbine engine of a jumbo jet. “What do I say? Will he end up hurting me?” Helena thought before she stopped being able to think when Tig pressed his lips to hers. His kiss turned urgent, and she felt herself left breathless when he lifted his lips, foreign patience shrouded him as he gave her time to think.

Helena blinked and found herself unable to look away from Tig’s probing, penetrative stare. The press of his body made Helena fight competing lust-fueled thoughts as she cleared her throat. “How do I fit in?” she finally asked.

Tig frowned, unsure of what she was asking, and Helena continued before he could speak.

“How do I fit into your world?” Helena asked as her mind once again conjured the seemingly inerasable image of the skinny, glossy-lipped, spike-heeled, gonorrhea ridden, parasitic whore trying to play with Tig’s stick.

Tig dropped a strong hand to encircle Helena’s wrist, the tips of his middle finger and thumb overlapping. He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to the center of her palm. Tig squeezed her smaller hand, free from scars, lines and nails gaudily encrusted with rhinestones before he spoke.

“I should be askin’ you the same thing baby,” Tig murmured on a heady rasp, his exhale a hot tease against her skin.

Helena drowned in the electrical sensation that was ignited the nanosecond he pressed his lips to her palm, the wiry strands of his facial hair, near-singeing where it brushed against her skin.

Helena blinked hard as she tried to collect her flurrying thoughts, she was suddenly a snow globe that had been violently shaken and left to find herself again amongst the falling chunks of artificial snow. “How does he fit in?” Helena asked herself. “How do I tell him that he scares the nightmares away, that since the moment I met him, he filled a space inside me that was empty?” Helena asked herself as her face turned a brilliant, fuchsia hue as she let her mind wander down a sexual rabbit hole.

“Because you’re different,” Helena finally managed and added in a quick stammer as Tig’s hands slid down to rest on her hips. “You’re not like the rest of them.”

Tig squeezed her taut hips, massaging the supple flesh through her jeans. “Who do ya think I am doll?” he asked on a heady tease.

“I think you’re dangerous,” Helena whispered on an exhale as Tig tugged her closer and slid one hand up the length of her spine, his fingertips brushing each of the protruding vertebrate until he could tangle his fingers in the silken fall of her hair.

Tig couldn’t even pretend to deny the veracity of her words as he tugged on her hair until her neck pulled taut and Helena met his unblinking eyes. “Not towards you in any way baby, nothing bad will ever happen to you again,” Tig rasped and crushed his lips to hers, stealing her breath with the intensity of his want.

Helena was forced to surrender in Tig’s embrace, his hands everywhere at once while holding her immobile.

Tig’s strength was equal parts frightening and protective, his physical intimidation was not lost on himself as he settled closer to her.

“I’m not the kind of man you think I am,” Tig whispered as he pressed his lips against her ear and smoothed one hand down her side and cupped a hand under the curve of her bottom.

“What do you think I have wrong?” Helena asked on a low murmur.

“That I’m some kind of monster, inhuman,” Tig growled in a low tone.

“I don’t think you’re a monster,” Helena said softly and lifted a hand to cup his jaw. Tig captured her wrist, keeping her palm pressed hard to his face. Helena shivered as she felt the stubble against her warm palm and could feel his words vibrate against her skin as he spoke.

Helena almost didn’t hear him add in a strangled whisper against her flushed skin over the thundering beat of her heart. “Please don’t reject me,” Tig growled.

As Tig and Helena’s red blood cells bloated and their pupils pulsed with the increase of their collective and rising blood pressure, across town in the Human Resources office at St. Thomas’s, Dr. Andrew Wakefield pulled open a metal drawer and pawed through the folders until he found Helena’s personnel file.

Andrew began to whistle a lively show tune as he opened Helena’s folder on top of the HR secretary’s desk.

For a second Andrew looked like a reptile, so much so, one would’ve expected a forked tongue to slip out from his thin lips and wet his twisted smile as he read her name aloud from the sunny yellow folder tab.

Onassis, Helena.

Andrew skimmed her contact information, most of which he already knew, before he fished his phone out of his pocket and took pictures of each page in the manila file folder.

Andrew replaced the file and easily slipped out of St. Thomas’s before he casually made his way back to his hotel room.

As the prominent and adored Floridian doctor returned to his hotel room, back in Helena’s kitchen, the air had become charged, and Tig found himself closer and closer to losing the mere semblance of control he possessed.

Helena found her voice as Tig began to tug open the top button of her jeans and deftly lowered her zipper. “No, I, I can’t,” Helena began before she trailed off into silence and desperately tried to avoid his gaze.

“Ya can’t or ya won’t?” Tig hissed, his exhale fell from lungs surrounding his heart that began to gallop in its opaque pericardial sac.

Tig never stopped his touch even as Helena unsuccessfully pushed at his hands and incoherently protested. “I can’t right now,” Helena finally spit, her anxiety had melted into vulnerable defensiveness.

Tig tried to lessen his hold but failed as he took a deep breath in through his nose as he softened his tone but fell flat in an effort to blunt the crassness of his words. “I’ll do anything you tell me, just let me fuck you baby,” he grumbled, his words delivered under the growing roughness of his touch.

Helena couldn’t help but laugh nervously once she caught her breath and dropped her hands to close around Tig’s wrists, simultaneously brilliantly blushing at his ragged admission. She shook her head, “I should probably tell you something,” Helena lamely managed.

“Tell me,” Tig said on a rasp as he buried his face in the curve of her neck, his exhale causing her to break out in goosebumps.

Helena danced her fingertips up his forearms and along the curve of his triceps as she tried to formulate a coherent sentence. “I need some air,” she said in more of a shrill tone than she would’ve liked.

“Could we go outside for a few minutes?” Helena asked on a breathy moan as Tig slid a hand to cup over the clothed junction of her thighs, shuddering with the urgent want to sheath himself in her wet center.

“Just a few,” Tig finally conceded on a frustrated groan.

Helena looked past his shoulder as she raised her hands to his chest, feeling his heart pounding under her palm. Tig let her slide along the edge of the counter away from him as he drummed his fingertips on the outside of his thighs.

“Don’t fuck this up,” Tig told himself as he followed Helena outside.

They each settled into the new turquoise chairs that Helena had picked up at the hardware store, the southwestern round chair pads were still stiff with newness but stood out brightly on the sagging porch.

Helena tapped the arm of the metal chair. “I bought these the day I moved here.”

Tig squeezed the cold arms of the matching chair, “from Harvest’s?” he asked, not sure how to have a casual conversation with her when all he wanted to do was fuck her until he forgot how to spell his name.

Helena nodded, “that place is great, I think I’ve been there more than the grocery store.”

Tig nodded and fumbled for his freshly opened pack of cigarettes out of his pants pocket as Helena directed her gaze out at the overgrown yard that needed countless full weekends to clean up and who even knew how many trips back and forth to Harvest’s for mulch, weed killer and topsoil.

Tig was grateful to whoever was on the other end of the incoming call that made his phone buzz in his other pocket.

Helena moved her eyes off a trio of overgrown Meyer lemon trees, their wickedly sharp thorns ready and waiting to rip the flesh from anyone who dared supplant them, to look over at Tig as he frowned down at the caller ID.

“I gotta get this,” Tig murmured, suppressing the anger from his tone that he was being pulled away from her. Helena nodded and watched Tig disappear into the house before he answered the call.

“Yeah,” Tig grumbled tersely as he picked up Clay’s incoming call.

“Where are you?” Clay barked, irritated that Tig had been ignoring a laundry list of calls and messages.

“I’m just working on some things,” Tig benignly answered.

“Well brother, we’re meeting with the Irish in a few hours. Can you break away from your ‘things’ for a while?” Clay added with a chuckle, recalling Gemma telling him what she’d seen in the grocery store aisle with toiletries and over-the-counter products.

Tig walked over to the kitchen counter and stared down at the chipped tiles on the edge and ivory-colored grout lines as he tried to come up with an excuse to not have to leave.

As Tig was trying to come up with an excuse that would hold water to skip out on Club business, Helena’s phone chimed from where she had left it by the stainless-steel toaster.

Tig glanced over his shoulder and could see Helena still sitting on the rear porch, staring out at the yard just as she had been when Clay called.

“Tig? You there?” Clay asked when Tig fell deathly silent as he picked up her phone and glanced at the message preview that popped up on the phone.

“I gotta call you back,” Tig muttered abruptly and hung up on Clay.

Tig clenched his teeth until his jaw popped as he read the first sentence of the incoming text message. Helena’s locked screen kept him from reading any further than the three words displayed on the smudged screen.

“Remember this baby?” Tig read aloud before another message arrived. Tig squinted down at the small square photo that was too tiny to discern much detail.

Helena flinched when Tig stomped back outside and held her phone out towards her, the screen facing her.

“What is this?”

Helena’s face first drained of color as she swallowed hard and was then replaced with a wave of defensiveness as she reached out for her phone. Tig held it just out of her reach, “tell me who sent this.”

Helena blew out a low breath before she moved her eyes from the rectangular screen to settle on his face. “Fine,” she finally said in a heated tone as she began to flush. “Give me the phone first,” she demanded as she held her hand out.

Tig pressed his lips together. Feeling his salivary glands leak and a trill of excitement stimulate his nervous system as Helena’s indignation at his invasive encroachment into secrets she wanted to keep hermitically sealed in a titanium coffin, buried under three million miles of earth.

Tig’s watched her eyes grow wide as her irises practically vibrated in their sockets. In the center of his brain, his pituitary gland ejaculated hormones that further fanned his lust as her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

Helena felt the tiniest lessening of the electrical heaviness in the air when Tig gently placed her phone in her waiting palm. They both felt a tingling jolt as his fingertips brushed against her open hand.

Tig sat back down on the firm chair pad and watched Helena unlock her phone and read the messages. He watched her eyes move back and forth over the words before she began to speak.

Helena spoke without meeting his eyes, never taking her gaze off her phone clutched in her hand. Her voice grew in strength as she gripped her phone so tight that the skin over her knuckles turned white as it was pulled taut.

“Before I started in the neurology ward, I heard all sorts of rumors about several of the physician department heads and a game they played.”

Tig waited as she gathered her words, willing to give her eons to continue, as long as she would speak only to him.

“Dr. Gatez, with a Z, was the one who started everything. He paid off a guy in maintenance to put cameras in the bathrooms, changing rooms and staff lounges. They had competitions for best pictures and videos recorded. They set aside one department head meeting a month to talk about their other conquests,” Helena said before closing her eyes and resumed leaning back in the metal chair.

Tig didn’t have to wait long for her to continue.

“Besides their surveillance fun, they would often use the footage to blackmail people they found in compromising footage or threaten to release still frames. Sometimes they’d try to leverage more with their threats,” Helena said as she looked down at her phone and reread the simple message and tapped on the photo, enlarging it.

Helena was transported back to the events she had moved three-thousand miles away from as she stared at the screen.

Helena turned the phone’s face towards Tig, she cleared her throat as his eyes fell on an image of her emerging from the employee shower. She positioned her fingers to cover most of her nudity.

“After I was sent this and a few that were similar, there was another message that said I could find out how to keep that picture and more from being circulated to the entire staff.”

Helena settled back in the chair and turned the screen back towards herself as she struggled for a moment to find her words.

“One of the doctors told me that all I had to do was perform a few free favors and I’d get the originals.”

Tig felt himself hit with a simultaneous tsunami on each hemisphere of his brain as he battled vastly different thoughts about what Helena described. Tig was both compelled to comfort her while at the same time he felt a coiled charge of excitement in his body as he wanted to rip her phone out of her hand to see the uncensored image of her wet nakedness.

“He tried to take payment when I said no,” Helena started to say before her voice broke and she sniffed hard. “There was a security guard close by,” she added and pinched the bridge of her nose as a headache decided to start brewing behind her eyes.

Tig finally spoke when Helena didn’t seem like she was going to offer more. “What happened after that?”

“I filed a report with the hospital and police department but of all places the cameras weren’t working was the parking garage and the security guard never got a good look at him. It became my word against the esteemed Dr. Wakefield and Gatez,” Helena spit.

Helena blew out a low breath. “The threats quickly escalated, and I tapped into my trust and left everything behind. I didn’t even put them down as a job reference for St. Thomas.”

Tig left his chair and dropped to a knee in front of her. If someone had been watching, without words, it would appear he was proposing. “Let me in,” Tig breathed as he pulled her phone from her tight grip and set it aside. He gathered her hands and smoothed his fingers over her soft, unscarred skin.

Tig pressed his lips to her palms before he buried his face in her lap. “Please let me in,” he begged.

Helena stared down at Tig’s head, his face pressed against the tops of her thighs, his ragged exhales were hot through the denim.

Tig held himself statue still on the outside while inside his chest cavity, his heart leapfrogged itself with its rapid beating.

Helena lifted her hands and slid her fingertips through his hair, the strands tickling her palms.

Tig closed his eyes and smoothed his hands up and down the outside of Helena’s thighs as she rubbed her fingertips in slow circles on his scalp.

As Helena and Tig remained in silence, across town at the Clubhouse, Piney was eating a second sandwich, the new anti-nausea medication had made his appetite return with a vengeance.

Inside his body, the cancerous cells continued to divide. Piney’s discomfort was trapped behind a narcotic wall that was difficult to maintain, the breakthrough pain made his spine practically bow with its intensity.

Piney lowered the volume on the game show rerun as Cassie brought him an extra slice of pie she had brought from St. Thomas’s cafeteria. As the two of them talked about bland topics and then shouted out their answers to the game show trivia, back on Helena’s rear porch, Tig squeezed her hips until she hissed from the pressure as her whispered words fell around his ears.

“Can I trust you, Tig?” Helena asked. He began to nod his head the nanosecond she was done speaking.

“I need something, “ Helena began and trailed off as she lost confidence in her words.

“Talk to me,” Tig demanded as he snapped his head up to find her eyes on him.

“I want,” Helena began before she paused briefly. “I need to know I mean something to you, I’m not disposable.”

Tig rose to his feet and pulled her up and out of the blue wrought-iron chair to join him. “You’re everything,” he growled and crushed his lips to hers.

[karimac]

…in the details, Part 3

A/N: Warning for this series: 18+ audience (minors DNI), some cinematic level violence, some fluff and angst. Doubt that smut will be involved, but it may be implied. I’ll make sure that is noted clearly if it pops up.

All relationships, at this point anyway, are platonic.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

A bit about the OC Kari

Part 1

Part 2

All mistakes are my own.

Word count: 3,556

Well, that was not exactly the best idea, was it?

Dr. Darcy Lewis, unlike her colleague, Dr. Erik Selvig, was not a big fan nor an authority on any form of mythology. And the Irish history ask was a longshot at best.

So, here you were, in the coffee shop smack dab in the middle of Westview, talking to Dr. Lewis and getting nowhere fast.

“And, that’s not happening,” the astrophysicist grumbled as she set down her phone and took another sip of her beverage. It was some weirdly sweet concoction that looked like what humans thought rainbow-colored unicorn poop looked like. This world was not ready for what real magical beasts looked like. Most authors had not gotten all of that right in their books. No surprise there. No human really needed to see such things on a daily basis, and whoever had been the muses for those authors had covered up a lot.

“I take it Dr. Selvig has no clue on the Celtic Pantheon?” you asked as you sipped your very boring, light, non-sweet hot coffee. The barista probably wanted to laugh when you ordered it, but he did his best to stifle his snicker. “It was a very long reach on my part, Dr. Lewis. I’m sorry I roped you into this.”

“You can call me Darcy because you actually acknowledge my academic status,” the brunette said as she flipped her phone over again. “So, Thor is off in space. You don’t want me calling Falcon or his pal with the metal arm. Captain Marvel isn’t on your contact list. Ant Man and The Wasp? They can be sort of science geeks, right? Wait. Banner? Is he OK to call?”

Before you could open your mouth, Darcy was texting Banner off her own phone. “You know Bruce?”

“I met him at some meet and greet at MIT before the world went poof,” Darcy replied as she set her phone back down and seemed to be praying Banner would actually return her text. “Stark was there, too, but Banner was the one I got coffee with. Sweet guy, you know, even if he gets all green sometimes.”

As you sipped your coffee, you noticed a few people giving you odd looks. It made you very nervous. “Maybe we should finish up and get back on the road?” you asked Darcy as you quietly motioned toward the other patrons getting their daily fix of caffeine.

“Yeah, bubbe isn’t answering me anyway,” Darcy said as she picked up her phone and got up from her chair. By now there were several residents blocking the exit. “What is your problem? We paid. We’re busing our table. Then we’re leaving.”

“Are The Avengers going to hunt her down?” one woman in the back of the group asked as Darcy looked back toward you and mouthed the word “Help” before turning back to the crowd. The questioner was loud, but you couldn’t see her because of the big delivery man standing in front of her with a huge pile of Amazon packages. “Why did you come back?”

It was time to vamp. With an apparently faulty memory, this was going to be interesting.

“Before you all ask about what is going to happen regarding Wanda Maximoff, I want you all to know I have no authority to speak for The Avengers. I have never been a true member of the team. I helped them at a time when things were beyond bleak for this world. It was an honor and a privilege. But I am not a spokesperson. I am not a team leader.”

“Then why did you come here?” a man with glasses, holding a briefcase, asked from the line where he was waiting for his order. “Then and now?”

“I came the first time because I was looking for my friend. I was pulled into that nightmare just like you were. I wish I had been able to help her before any of this happened.”

“But you have powers, right? Couldn’t you have shut her down, hot stuff?” the first woman added as she moved to the front. Then you recognized her. Agatha Harkness. If Wanda kept her alive, there was a reason for it, and all the pain you had rising in your core had to be tamped down fast. Harkness had hurt Wanda, and that would have to be addressed one day. You were good at playing the long game.

“Taking her out in any sort of power stunt could have jeopardized your lives. I was not sure what she did to make it all happen, and I was not going to risk your lives. I’m sorry it wasn’t put to an end sooner. Now, if you will excuse us, we need to get to a meeting regarding the incident here,” you said as you and Darcy pushed through the crowd and back out to the street.

“OK, what was all that? Spin? Or are you remembering something?” Darcy asked as you got back into her car. You had left your rental on the outskirts of town. Better to travel as a unit until your business here was concluded.

“I remember a couple of things from that mess,” you said as you tried to keep your hands from shaking. “I remember Wanda and Vision’s sons. Billy and Tommy. I remember the house where I lived. Can we drive out to where Wanda had her house? Maybe that will help?”

Darcy pulled out of the parking space and made the lefts and rights to the lot where Wanda’s house had been. The one you were living in was in a lot right next to it. It was empty now, too, but you got out of the car anyway and stood in the center of the patch of dirt. You closed your eyes and held your breath as you tried to piece together what had happened. And then you started to cry as you fell to your knees.

“Whoa, slow down,” Darcy said as she ran and knelt beside you. “What did you see?”

“It’s weird. Wanda came over one day and more or less apologized to me because she couldn’t give me my real happy ending. I can show you, if you’ll let me…”

“Go into my mind?” Darcy protested before you could wave her off the idea. “No Vulcan mind melds for me today, thanks.”

“No, I carry this mirror, and you can see memories in it. Trust me, I do not use telepathy as a first line of anything. I tried it once, to help a friend, but it just caused more problems,” you groaned as you pulled the mirror out of your backpack. You waved your hand over it, and Darcy could now see what had happened with Wanda.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find them and bring them here,” the Sokovian said quietly as she walked around the 1980s version of what was your living room. It was way too pastel for your liking, but the hints of fuchsia, orchid and teal in the overall cream and light gray design weren’t so bad. You had a couple of cats there with you. One was an orange tabby with a penchant for eating tuna at any given moment. He was warm and affectionate and just a ray of sunshine dressed in fur. The other was as white as the driven snow, but his own cuddly disposition came through. He was the one who would leave you weird gifts every morning. Rocks, feathers, and yes, the occasional dead mouse would be at the foot of your bed each sunrise. You’d find out at the end of that nightmare that the cats were only constructs of Wanda’s chaos magic.

“I know you miss the three of them,” she continued as she pointed to a framed picture of Steve, Bucky and Sam, all decked out in appropriate 1980s clothes that made them look like they ran away from some cop drama. “It’s probably better that there aren’t too many Avengers here anyway. Vis is getting concerned. And this way, well, no one needs to know which one you would have chosen. I know. You know. So you can always talk to me. Like we did before. But I gave you the wedding ring to make sure no one came on to you. Just in case I can get him here soon.”

As you showed Darcy the memory, a tiny part of you was screaming that this whole scenario seemed wrong. You watched Wanda’s crimson glow float around you as she spoke. You vaguely remembered The Morrigan trying to kick some sense back into your addled brain, but Wanda’s world was much too enticing to let your other self come to the fore. You wanted the damned happily ever after with the husband and the house and everything that meant in the modern American ethos. You had rationalized things for years in such a way that you’d never let yourself get it. That was why no one was here to hug you at night like Wanda had Vision. Maybe that fact alone was enough to crack Wanda’s hold on you a bit more than she realized?

But you also had to admit that you wanted to be there for Wanda in case things went south. That much was clear from the moment you showed up in Westview the first time.

“How come you didn’t just zap her? Fight back?” Darcy asked as you fully shifted to the present day and paused the memory.

“Because she wasn’t wrong. I did miss Bucky, Steve and Sam. I missed Banner, too, because they were, in the end, the ones still here that cared if I lived or died. And Spider-Man. Which is random and weird, but he did. And frankly, what I said in the coffee shop was true. I had no idea what my powers would do to her spell. I could have leveled the town. That was not an option.”

“So, that Agatha woman…” Darcy started to say and then stopped. “Wait. That was her? In the coffee shop? That was why you were acting so weird?”

“Yeah. Wanda could have killed her or taken Agatha away with her to imprison her. She didn’t. After what Agatha tried to do to Wanda, to try and take her powers, Wanda had every right to finish her off. But Wanda doesn’t likely know all that yet. There are rules set up from ages ago. Things witches can and can’t do to each other under specific circumstances. So Wanda left her trapped here—for now anyway. But, whatever happened with them, it affected me, too. I got hit with stray magic blasts. I’m betting it messed up my powers in ways I didn’t realize. And maybe my memories as well.”

As Darcy knelt there, her phone finally chimed. It was some weird little R2-D2 chirpy beep, and she looked elated as she showed you the message. “Seems Bruce still cares if you are OK or not. I don’t think bringing him here is such a great idea…”

“Did anyone send him data about what happened here?” you asked as you got to your feet, pocketing some of the dirt from the lot before you stood up. “Air and soil samples? Readings from the residents?”

“I can get them for him. Trust me, Jimmy Woo and Monica Rambeau would be more than happy to help. I’m glad that loon Hayward seems to have gone into hiding or was hauled away to The Raft,” Darcy noted as she checked her phone again. “Seems the doc is working out of a Stark lab here in Jersey. Road trip?”

You really didn’t want to go see Bruce. You had no idea how you’d explain any of what you did to him.

++++++++++

You rehearsed what you planned to tell Bruce a million times in your mind as Darcy drove along the Garden State Parkway to a place called Woodcliff Lake. Stark Industries did indeed have a lab there, and it made you want to scream as you walked into the facility. You did not need yet another reminder that you could not save Tony Stark’s life at the end of that final battle with Thanos. That was part of why you were in this mess in the first place. It was also why you had a screaming fight with Stephen Strange, but no one else knew about that yet.

“Dr. Banner? We’re here!” Darcy yelled as you walked toward what had to be the research wing. The lack of security in the place was a bit disturbing, but then again, there were probably booby traps built into every square inch of the place. You could just hear Tony now as you got closer to the lab area. It would likely have been close to the speech you got the first time he talked to you at the compound.

“Hey! Lucky Charms! Don’t touch any of the expensive stuff. I guess that means don’t touch anything. I still have no idea why you are hanging around the team except that Steve wants you here for some reason. Maybe you’re tied to…his friend…and I just don’t want to face that? Still have issues with all of that, even if the man is dead. Pepper and Morgan said I should be nice to you, but I’m not quite there yet after what happened in Berlin. They are better people than I’ll ever be.”

“Earth to Kari?” you finally heard Bruce say as he waved his massive green hand in front of your face. Then he realized why you were likely spacing out. "Dr. Lewis, can we have a minute?”

“You can call me Darcy, if I can call you Bruce?” Lewis said as Banner nodded to her. “Cool. I’ll go find the little scientist’s room and be right back,” she added as she left the lab.

“So,” Bruce started as he pointed you toward a set of chairs at one side of the lab, “Darcy filled me in via text. I have no idea what happened with Wanda, and I know none of us know where she is. I did call a friend who wants to help,” he noted as a swirling circle of yellow light formed near the window that looked out over the parking lot. “I figured you’d listen to him, and he knows more about this stuff than I do.”

“What did you do?” Wong shouted as he exited the portal. “You usually listen to reason. Why did you go after Wanda all alone?”

“I went to help Wanda. She was hurting. She watched Vision die twice. She lost Pietro. I can relate to all that very, very well. My twin Branan died in front of my eyes, too, and I’ve buried two husbands. Both died in battle. I just wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. But she…she hit all my vulnerable points. And she was under attack at the same time. From a woman named Agatha Harkness and from the director of SWORD. Some martinet named Hayward. He built another Vision. I think Hayward was using Wanda’s powers to bring him to life. Darcy is going to check in with some of the people who worked with her to get you more intel, Bruce.”

“Another version of Vision? Great,” Bruce muttered as he looked over at Wong. “As for this Harkness person…”

“The name rings very small bells, so I’ll need to do some research,” Wong noted as you bumped your left fist against your forehead. “What?”

“Harkness is a succubus. And she is old. Not as old as I am, but she is still a good 400 years old, give or take a day. She apparently survived the Salem Witch Trials. Wanda spelled her and left her in Westview. I think she is, at least in small ways, aware that her world is all wrong. I didn’t want to press it when I saw her in that coffee shop. We do not need an angry succubus flying around. Wong, they got into an aerial battle, and Wanda was using sigils, runes, whatever you want to call them, to focus her power. I think she picked that up from good old Aggie. I never showed her anything like that on purpose. I always suspected she had magic in her bones, but it wasn’t my place to start that fire. The bigger issue is that Wanda conjured up two children while she was there. She created cats for me, so anything is possible. I got knocked out by the end of the fight, so I have no idea what exactly happened in the end other than Wanda running off and Agatha being left behind for some reason.”

“And?” Wong asked as he started to look you up and down. “You did a spell? And it went bad? Your aura is all messed up.”

“I…I tried to do a spell so The Avengers would think of me less and less, and then eventually I’d just be a fleeting memory. I felt walking away in the dead of night, the thing I usually do when I am leaving town, would not be good enough. The spell got botched, and now I’m connected in some fashion to Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Looking back at it, I spent more time with them in the days leading up to my departure. Steve and Bruce were there the day I left, and so were Sam and Bucky. And…I’m carrying a lot of guilt about Bucky after his accident in 1943.”

“All this on top of the magical circus Wanda made? Are you insane?” Wong yelled as he started to pace.

“And the fight I had with Stephen on the day of the battle. Yeah, I guess I am insane,” you replied as Wong threw up his hands. Bruce had gotten extremely quiet, and that was not a good thing.

“Before we get to dissecting your spell, Kari, was this because of what Tony said? About you not being an Avenger because you were…?”

“Unstable? Yes. And the fact I could not bring anyone back from the grave, especially during that last battle. And the fact about who killed his parents. Buck did while under Hydra control. Steve found out and never told Tony. I ran into The Winter Soldier a few times over the decades, so there was the chance I could have prevented their deaths, too. Tony really had no reason to ask me to join the band.”

“Once we get your spell problem sorted, then we will address this, too,” Bruce said as he looked toward Wong and shook his head. “I loved Tony like a brother, but he was wrong…”

You winced a few times as you tried to listen to Bruce and Wong, now joined once again by Darcy, as they tried to figure out how to fix or reverse that spell, and they hashed out what might have happened to you during that first trip to Westview. You were really trying to focus on their questions, but you felt a tug that no one else could ever have possibly felt.

“Baltimore,” you mumbled as you pulled out your cellphone and debated texting the person you felt tugging at that damned invisible string. No. That would have ended badly, especially since your original spell had gone haywire.

“Bucky Barnes was arrested?” Darcy asked as she showed you her phone alert. “I bet he punched that new fake Cap in the nose. Sorry, but that guy looks like he has no clue. I saw him on Good Morning America. Total cheese fest.”

“Wait. What?” you asked as you took her phone. “Sam didn’t keep the shield? I just hope Bucky didn’t punch Sam and wind up in jail for that!” You gave Darcy back her phone and looked at yours again. It was buzzing. “Anyone here know who the hell is Christina Raynor?” you asked the trio in front of you. No one had any clue about that. You hit the speaker button as you answered the call.

“Hello? Ms. MacOrish. I’m James Barnes’ therapist, Christina Raynor. Sam Wilson said I should give you a call and ask you to join us in Baltimore. As quickly as possible, if you can. I don’t think Mr. Barnes wants to spend the night in a holding cell.”

“Oh no, you are not going to Baltimore,” Wong said as he crossed his arms and got a stern look on his face. “Not while your head is all over the place. You could portal to Baltimore in the 1800s for all you know. You could end up eating lunch with Lord Baltimore in the 1700s. You really shouldn’t do this.”

“Wong, what better place for me to go than to see a therapist?” you said with a smirk as you opened your own portal, this one a lovely shade of emerald green, that went to where Raynor was waiting for you—outside an interrogation room at the city jail.

“Mr. Wilson said you’d be fast. He did not tell me you were one of the powered class,” Raynor said as you went through the portal, looking back to wave briefly as you heard Darcy’s last comment.

“What about your rental car?”

[tetriquinn]

Dream SMP locations/moments/characters as their respective canon Homestuck songs.

/rp /dreamsmp (based on characters, not creators)

Source: I said so.

SUPER LONG LMAO

The links go with the descriptions above them. Mobile formatting makes the list really confusing. Sorry about that.

The entire SMP. I tried to assign this to a specific event but I couldn't. Eternity is just too powerful. It literally has the best moment in all of Homestuck music history. That kind of raw energy cannot be defined by a single event. [Eternity Served Cold] Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur joining - L'Manburg War

[Sburban Jungle]

Pogtopia/Manburg War

[Welcome to the New Extreme]

The First Disc War(s, if you include the other disc-related conflicts)

[Showtime - Imp Strife]

The first half of the Final Disc War

[You Killed My Father (Prepare To Die)]

The second half of the Final Disc War

[Showtime - Piano Refrain]

The Eggpire after Tommy died (Yes I know I’ve made this joke before shut up it was my best meme)

The Banquet. Before the... y’know... murder part.

Actually no, The Banquet including the murder part.

[Pumpkin Party]

Ghostbur entering the prison

[Love You]

Revivedbur exiting the prison (er, just kinda showing up where he died I guess

[Hate You]

Manburg Festival (October 16th)

[Harlequin]

January 5th (New L'Manburg Festival + Ranboo's Panic Room)

[Dark Carnival]

The period between Tommy's death in the Prison and Tommy's revival

[Heir Of Grief]

Ranboo & Fundy's ice cream shop; Niki & Puffy's flower shop

[Moonsetter]

Revivedbur and Quackity with the burger shops

[Beatdown]

Ranboo and Tubbo with the burger shops

[Candles And Clockwork]

Jack Manifold. Just. In general. (AND NO IT’S NOT JUST A SOLLUX JOKE YEAH THAT’S RIGHT I SAW ONE OF YOU FUCKERS MEDIA SHARE THIS ONE TO HIM LAST WEEK)

[La2t Frontiier]

That little arc where Tubbo was trying to be a detective instead of mourning the violent and brutal death of his best friend

[BL1ND JUST1C3]

Doomsday

[Even In Death - T’Morra]

What? You thought I was going to say Carne Vale? You thought Doomsday was [S]: Game Over? Amateurs.

When Dream and Techno inevitably break out of the prison because let’s be real that’s happening one way or another (bonus points if Techno finds out about Dream manipulating Ranboo and goes apeshit)

[Carne Vale]

My DSMP sona when she encounters someone who manipulated the kids

Las Nevadas/ Casino Q

[Black]

The Syndicate lmfaooooooooo (I’m only half kidding here)

[I’m A Member Of The Midnight Crew but it’s the nice a capella version that everyone likes because it’s objectively the best one]

That one time Tubbo finally went to visit Tommy in exile and thought he [S] Game Over’d himself

[Flare]

The stream where they created Church Prime

[Creata]

PLEASE let Tommy just go apeshit ONE time every time he does even one SMALL THING for himself the entire fucking universe turns on him please he deserves to let it all out and kick actual fucking ASS EVEN ONE TIME COME ON

[Valor]

Tales From The SMP/ Karl in General

[Temporal Shenanigans]

Karl’s karaoke nights (yes I know this one isn’t a canon song but it’s a mix of 3 canon songs plus Space Jam okay it counts)

[Slam Jam]

Anyone remember the Karl Reef?

[Fuchsia Ruler]

Wilbur turning a drug van in the woods into an entire country

[WV: Become the Mayor of Cans]

The Dreamon Hunters, my absolute beloveds. My favorite arc on the entire SMP.

[At The Price Of Oblivion]

Tubbo sitting over the remains of his country on L’Manburgian Independance Day earlier this month (yes I’m spelling it as “Independance” because that’s what their constitution said okay it’s their fault not mine)

[Three In The Morning Aftermath]

Tommy leaving Exile (or him being revived I guess idk)

[Savior of the Waking World]

If Sapnap ever DID ANY LORE COME ON MAN YOU HAVE THE MOST POTENTIAL HERE

[Time On My Side]

The big final battle against The Egg that we never got :(

[Battle Against an Unfathomable Enemy]

Enderwalk Ranboo it’s literally perfect

[Black Rose / Green Sun]

I don’t think I even have to tell you what this is for. Look at the title. You’ll know.(Dream in the Prison in case you’re seeing this way in the future and don’t have this context)

[Constant Confinement]

Ranboo & Fundy doing dumb shit together (the good ol’ days)

[Wacky Antics]

I could use this for an actual, plot-relevant location, but no their SCUFFED-ASS NETHER IT HURTS SO BAD PLEASE SOMEONE JUST FIX IT IT’S SO GARBAGE (except for the portal hub that looks really nice)

[Underworld]

Ranboo’s lil’ Ender particles (chat) jammin to fuckin’ Cabinet Man or some shit during lore

[Arcade Thunder]

Tubbo’s execution

[Trials And Execution]

Clingyduo when they actually get to fight/hang out together canonically

[Skiain Skirmish]

Revivedbur (yes I’m serious)

[Hardchorale]

Dream XD

(I FORGOT IT HAD THE FLOWEY LAUGH AND I GOT WHIPLASH WHILE TYPING THIS DUSIGYUSIHV)

[Lordling]

Dream getting posessed by the Dreamon and having to be exorcised (yeah remember that? Probably not.)

[Sunslammer]

The Inbetween and The Other Side fighting to get Karl to listen (Another one I’m pretty sure is canon)

[Derse Dreamers]

The final battle of the SMP. It’ll happen eventually. It can’t last forever, you know

[Rex Duodecim Angelus]

This went from a shitpost to a very long, fairly accurate (and fairly full of memes) analysis help I’m so tired.

Honorable mentions that I couldn’t add because they’re technically not canon songs:

Eret all the time

[Let Me Dance, Let Me Glisten]

The Eggpire just being able to understand The Egg (I say sarcastically, as if I don’t have this song written in a fictional language memorized)

[Futma Kul Shemtor (Hymn of the Horrorterrors)]

[rohad93]

Moonlit Masquerade: Ch 8

On Friday Amity is tired, but she relishes every minute she spends at school and not home, because the weekend was looking to be just as exhausting. 

Blue moon masquerades are a Blight family tradition, her parents have been throwing the parties for as long as she can remember and it’s a tradition that they begin throwing these parties at sixteen. With this being the first blue moon since the twins turned sixteen it's finally time for them to do it. 

Normally the two are all about parties, but considering all the rules and protocols their parents have set for the event, any enthusiasm the twins might have had is well and truly dead before the party planning even begins.  

Now it’s just one more thing expected of them and Amity can tell how much they hate it, so she tries to help them with the planning whenever she can.

Someday it will be her turn after all. 

She also still has yet to speak to Luz since Wednesday and she feels bad about it, but facing her is too hard right now, especially when the object of her affections seems to actively pushing her toward this secret admirer she has.

She clutches her book to her chest as she walks down Hexside’s quiet and deserted hallways. 

Maybe Luz is just a pipe-dream she needs to try and forget about. She was never going to have the courage to face her and tell her how she feels, and if Luz had any inclination toward her at all she wouldn’t be advocating so hard for a mysterious stranger. 

Her lips quiver and her eyes burn but she quickly shoves it down. She is not going to cry at school, she’s a Blight!

A mantra she uses to steel herself even as she hates it. 

She shakes her head and continues on toward her locker. 

When she stops to stand in front of it the creature looks annoyed and she realizes why when it opens its mouth unprompted and sticks out its tongue.

She's started to get a little more used to these surprises but the one waiting for her this morning makes her gasp. 

Sitting there on her locker's tongue is a small maroon colored velvet box she knows immediately is a jewelry box. A piece of folded paper sitting beneath it.

She hesitates a minute before picking up the box and the note. Curiosity gets the better of her and she opens the box before anything else and stares wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape.

Nestled within the satin lining is a brooch. 

Fine lines of gold shaped to look like thorned vines twist and loop in random but pleasing patterns, overlapping each other in places. At the center of the vines is a small tear-shaped gemstone in a gold setting. She's not sure what kind, but it's a deep fuchsia color that sparkles and gleams when it catches a stray beam of light from the hallways overhead lights. 

It's beautiful and Amity is in awe of it as she pulls it from its box with hesitant fingers and holds it gently in her hand. She runs her thumb over the hard and smooth facets of the stone, feeling the different, sharp cut sides press into the pad of her thumb. 

The metal is cool and hefty in her fingers and her heart thuds in her chest that someone would go through all this trouble for her.

It's a common misconception among the student body that Amity Blight must be beating suitors off with a staff, but the truth is no one had ever pursued her.

Her family was highly influential and well off, everyone assumed she was above them, unattainable; so they didn't try. Not that she’d done much to change that opinion. 

Of course, when it finally does happen she's head over heels for someone as unattainable as people think she is…

With gentle fingers she puts the jewelry back in its box and finally turns her attention to the piece of paper, unfolding it.

"Amity,

When I saw this in the market I could only think of you. I hope you like it. This is my final gift as your secret admirer.

Even if you can't return my feelings, would you dance with me tomorrow night?

I'll be wearing a black and purple horned demon mask.

~Your soon-to-be-not-so-secret Admirer 

Amity's heart is thumping loudly in her chest, the meaning of the letter is clear. Her secret admirer is going to be at the masquerade tomorrow night. 

She clutches the box in her hands and bites her lip.

Maybe… this was her chance to let go of Luz… 

Her heart aches at the thought, but her mind knows that it would be the better choice. 

Luz is human and while it's rather uncertain right now if she'll ever actually leave the Boiling Isles since the only known portal has been destroyed, Amity's parents would have an aneurysm if they were to ever find out she was in a romantic relationship with a human, the Owl Lady's apprentice no less. 

Despite that, if the opportunity presented itself Amity would still leap headfirst into it without any reservations.

She's never known anyone like Luz in all her life. The girl is kindness and sunshine incarnate, something exceedingly rare in a place like the Boiling Isles. 

She’s made her a better person in the time they’ve known each other. 

Looking back now she finds it hard to believe that she ever hated her.

She looks down at the maroon box in hand and frowns, chest tight. Conflicted emotions run rampant through her mind

For all the things she loves about Luz, of which there are many, she knows that she'll never have the courage to tell her so, and Luz has made it clear in just as many ways that she doesn't see Amity in the same light, and at the end of the day, all her longing and feelings are for not if Luz doesn't return them.

But here, in the palm of her hand, she has a chance at something that might be real and not just a flight of fantasy.  

She takes a deep breath and puts the box and note in her bag and heads to class.

She doesn't see Luz at lunch, for which she is grateful but disappointed. She sits with Willow and Gus when they wave her over.

"Hey, Amity, have you seen Luz today? We missed her this morning," the plant witch asks. Amity frowns.

"No, I haven't seen her all day." 

"She must not be at school today…" Willow frowns.

That's unusual, Luz loves school. Amity wonders if she's sick, but in the back of her mind, she wonders if Luz is avoiding her.

She looks down at her lunch and is suddenly not very hungry, but she stays and chats with Gus and Willow.

~ ~ 

Luz probably should have told her friends that she decided not to go to school today in order to have more time to get ready for Saturday night, but she’s on a deadline, there was no time to go to the school to tell Gus and Willow. She really needed to get a scroll. 

She only has one real problem left.

Hiding her ears.

If either of the Clawthorne sisters had magic it would be an easy thing to cast an illusion spell over her ears, but they don't; so it's not.

She's been leafing through Eda's various magic books, searching for a practical solution to her problem.

So far, no luck.

"Ugh!" Luz groans, shelving the books and stalking to her room, grumbling under her breath. "Why couldn't I have been born with a bile sac!?" she laments, dropping face down onto her sleeping bag.

She’s running out of time and unlike the way she handles most things, no plan, full steam ahead and flying by the seat of her pants, she needs to have this figured out before the party or everything was going to be for nothing! Now wasn’t the time to sharpen her improv skills. 

She has her clothes and her mask, they were easy. She was pretty pleased with herself on that front.

“Aghhhhh” she yells into the fabric before she ran out of air and was forced to flip over onto her back. 

Her time is ticking away and she can’t waste anymore with her frustrations. With a sigh, she hauled herself up and looked around her room, spotting the book about ancient, wild magic Amity had leant her and leaned over to grab it, dragging it into her lap and flipping it open.

She quickly leafs through page after page, hope waning as the minutes turn to hours and the next thing she knows the orange rays of the sunset are leaking through her window.

She sighed and twisted around, trying to relieve the pressure in her back from sitting hunched over the heavy tome for so long.

Maybe she could wear a hat, would it be okay to wear a hat?

She tiredly flips another page and scans it quickly as she reaches for the next but stops. 

In front of her are some illustrations of witches, but unlike other images in the book, these ones have what look like glyphs drawn on their skin; tattoos maybe?

Some of the book is written in a language she knows and some of it is not, and this section is, of course, not. 

But the longer she studies it the more an idea forms.

She sets the book aside and scrambles to her bag for a pen.

With one in hand she moves back over to the book The studies it again before laying her hand flat against its pages.

Steadily she draws the illusory glyph she'd been experimenting with across the back of her hand. She observes the final product and hesitates.

This could be dangerous.

She doesn’t allow the thought to take up much more than a few seconds of her time as she slaps her other hand over the glyph and willing it to do what she wants.

Her hand is enveloped in a light blue glow and when it fades her hand is tipped with long claws, the glyph still visible on the back of her hand. 

She flexes her hand tentatively and slowly a grin begins to split her face.

“It worked… It worked!” She jumps up with an excited whoop. She licks her thumb and rubs at the ink, as soon as the circle is broken the illusion fades with the same soft blue glow as before. She takes her pen and closes the circle back up and casts the spell again, and again, her hand transforms.

Giddy energy is filling her to near bursting as she shoots out of her room and runs into the bathroom.

It's an hour later that King is banging on the bathroom door.

“Other people live here and need the bathroom!” he squeals angrily, stomping his feet.

He almost falls over when the door suddenly swings open just as he’s pounding on it.

“Weh!” He stumbles, but catches himself and looks up, ready to lay his wrath upon whoever is hogging the bathroom but stops short at the sight in front of him.

“Well? What do you think?” Luz asks excitedly, but she doesn’t wait for his answer before bolting down the hall.

“Eda, EDA!” She calls pounding down the stairs and toward the kitchen, where she can hear someone moving around. Lilith looks up from her place on the couch as the girl passes and does a double take. 

“What?” Eda grumbles looking up from the large pot of potions she’s stirring. “Where’s the fir-” she trails off when she actually sees Luz.

She looks totally the same.

Except where once her ears were round, they are now pointed like any other witch on the Boiling Isles. 

“Wha-?” Eda looks at her wide eyed.

Lilith has followed into the kitchen to get a better look at the girl.

“Fascinating, how did you accomplish this?” She leans in close to get a better look. The illusion is seamless and if she didn’t know better she would have never guessed Luz wasn’t a witch.

“Well, you know that illusion glyph I taught you?” she asks and they nod. “Well, I was looking through this book Amity gave me and it showed wild witches with glyphs drawn on their bodies. So I figured I'd give it a shot!” she grins and reaches up to flick the tips of her now pointed ears. 

Eda walks over and turns her around, brushing Luz’s dark hair out of the way, she can see that  drawn on the back of both of Luz’s ears are small illusory glyphs. The older with grins.

“Kid, you’re brilliant.” She ruffled the girl's hair and Luz beamed. 

“Thanks, Eda.” 

“And think of the scams we could pull with this!” She grins and Lillith rolls her eyes.

Luz just chuckles, not even a little surprised.

[fic-for-fic-sake]

A Mermaid Tail

A/N: Yes this is because I’ve been watching a lot of H2O during this pandemic

Pairing: Bucky x reader

You had been working with the Avengers for about two years now and never in that time had you got to use your powers, what you were recruited for. Yes you had punched bad guys in the face and thanks to Nat knew how to strangle someone with your thighs but you were made for more than that. 

Your chance came one summer day when Tony called a meeting. You all filed into the conference room and took your respective seats around the large glass table. There was a hologram on the table, the image blue and slightly fuzzy. You guessed that was the reason for the meeting. 

Nervous glances were exchanged back and forth and murmurs were whispered across the room as you all tried to figure out just what exactly you were looking at. Then, thankfully, Tony walked in, shut the door, and asked FRIDAY to kill the lights. The image came to life, a recording. You all watched as what looked like a submarine moved through the water only for something to go terribly wrong. The ship started to sink before it was nothing more than flotsam at the bottom of the sea. 

“What the hell was that?” Sam asked, vocalizing everyone’s shared opinion. The others, yourself included, had been too stunned to speak. 

“That, Wilson, was something called a narco-sub. Top of the line in drug smuggling and currently at the bottom of Lake Superior.” 

“Michigan? Why would there be drug smuggling in the middle of Michigan?” You asked, confused. You had been there numerous times, it didn’t seem like the type of place you would think about when you thought about drug trafficking. 

“Well, Canada’s right there, it does kind of make sense. Strictly in terms of import and export.” Bucky answered you from your left. You glanced over your shoulder to look at him but his eyes were looking intently at the narco-sub. 

“Thank you Barnes, at least someone has their head screwed on straight today.” Tony said, rubbing his temples. “Fury thinks there might be something else in the narco-sub, weapons of some kind. He thinks this was Hydra.” 

With the sudden revelation, a chill went through the room. Nobody spoke and you swore Bucky tensed up next to you. Tentatively, you placed a hand on this thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. Without saying a word he took your hand and covered it with his. 

“Barnes, I know this may be hard for you but nobody knows Hydra better than you do so I’ll need you to go on this mission. Y/N you’ll also be going, for obvious reasons.” Tony said while switching on the lights and shutting the hologram off. You knew you should’ve felt upset or pissed about Hydra but all you felt was giddy. You were finally going to use your powers and you had to work hard to suppress the smile on your face. 

“When do we leave?” You asked, your body already tingling in anticipation. 

“Two hours, pack what you need and get on the jet. Wilson, you’re flying them.” 

You learned you would be gone for two days so there wasn’t much to do in terms of packing. FRIDAY had transferred the mission details to your iPad per Stark’s request. You thanked her as you looked over everything. The sub was apparently in the middle of the great lake and sank all the way to the bottom. There was no way to be sure what exactly was on the sub but intelligence reports said drugs and dangerous weapons. So the usual. 

Exactly two hours later you had your duffel bag in hand and walked onto the jet to find Bucky and Sam waiting for you. Bucky looked you over and gave you a wary look. 

“Aren’t you gonna wear a tac suit or somethin’?” He questioned. 

“Usually I would, but I don’t need it for this mission.” You said with a smile, looking down at your casual beach going clothes. Cut off jean shorts and a black tee-shirt. You even wore sandals on your feet. Bucky simply shrugged at your reply as the jet took off and you made your way towards The Great Lake State. 

Sam dropped you off and told you there was a car waiting that you could take the rest of the way to the beach. Once you got there, there would be a boat that you could take out on the water to the drop site. You both thanked him before leaving the jet, promising to meet at the same spot in two days time for pick up. 

Once you got to the beach you and Bucky made your way towards the water, spotting the boat almost instantly. It was nothing special, just a small pontoon. To the unsuspecting eye, you and Bucky just looked like a young couple about to enjoy a day out on the lake. As you got closer to the water you could feel your energy spike, a surge of renewal wash through you. That was only slightly dampened when you realized there was no dock and the boat was just moored out in the shallows. You would have to get in the water to get to the boat. You hesitated and Bucky turned around, noticing your sudden change of pace. 

“Um...Bucky. You’re gonna have to carry me to the boat.” You said. Not a question, but a statement. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head when your statement registered in his mind. 

“What?” Was the only reply you got. 

“I can’t step into the water this close to civilians and you have the coordinates to the drop site. So unless you want me sprouting a tail early, you need to carry me to the boat.” You spelled it out for him, calmly. You had been with the Avengers for two years but none of them had ever seen you as a mermaid. They knew what you were but no mission ever required it of you and you made a habit of making yourself scarce from any pool party they might throw. 

“Oh, uh, right.” Bucky agreed, albeit slightly confused, as he walked back to you and picked you up bridal style. Now you /really/ must look like a young couple in love. Bucky stepped into the shallows and walked towards the boat. Your arms, which were wrapped around his neck, tightened as the water level rose. But before anything bad could happen, Bucky deposited you on the deck before he climbed aboard as well. 

You handed him a fluffy towel that had been waiting on board so he could dry off as he drove to the drop site. About ten minutes later you were at the destination. It was hard to believe you were on a lake and not in the middle of the ocean because everywhere you looked, as far as the eye could see, was water. Beautiful blue water that you thought complimented Bucky’s eyes nicely. He looked comfortable behind the wheel of the boat and you thought that maybe he could’ve been a fisherman in another life. His pale skin would turn golden in the sunlight and his black locks would get streaks of honey brown in them. Although you couldn’t imagine Bucky being any more gorgeous than he already was, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. 

You stood up, preparing to dive to find the narco-sub, and Bucky stood up behind you. You went to stand on the back ledge of the boat, ready to dive off, but Bucky’s hand around your wrist stopped you. 

“What?” You questioned, looking back at him. 

“Aren’t you gonna take your clothes off?” He asked, eyeing your outfit that you had worn on the jet. 

“Excuse me?” You balked, tearing your wrist free from Bucky’s grasp. His eyes seemed to go wide as he realized how his question sounded and a slight blush colored his cheeks. 

“I, I didn’t mean it like that.” He stammered, rubbing his neck with the back of his hand, “I just meant won’t your clothes get all wet.” 

“Oh...well the simple answer is no. When I hit the water my clothes disappear and they reappear when I’m dry again.” 

“Disappear? Where do they go?” Bucky asked, curiosity oozing out of him like a small child. 

“I promise I’ll answer all your questions when I get back but we really need to find the sub, so can I go now?” You replied, body itching to be in the water again, to feel your tail return to you. Bucky gave you a nod and you were off, you dove into the water and headed down towards the sub. You relished in the feel of a fin instead of feet, how fast you could go underwater. You saw a few fish swim past you and you smiled at them, it had been way too long since you had done this. 

About ten minutes later you began to swim back to the surface. As you got closer you saw Bucky’s legs kicking lazily in the water and you realized he was sitting on the back ledge of the boat, waiting for you to come back. You resurfaced to the right of his feet and leaned your arms against the ledge. 

“So what’d you find?” Bucky asked, squinting in the mid-afternoon sun out on the lake. 

“Half of the drugs and weapons are gone. I guess they took what they could when they realized they were compromised before letting the rest rot at the bottom of the lake.” 

Bucky nodded his head in agreement but he seemed distracted by something. It was only a moment later when you realized he was distracted by you. Or rather, your tail that flapped lazily in the water. He noticed that you had noticed him staring and quickly averted his gaze, a pink blush once again decorating his features. You hadn’t pegged Bucky for a blusher but you thought it was cute every time it happened. 

“Sorry.” He apologized, making it a point to look everywhere but at you. 

“It’s okay, I told you I’d answer your questions, remember?” You replied, teasing him gently. But another part of you really meant it. Not many people got to see you like this so you never had to talk about it, much less answer curious questions from your teammates. Especially teammates as attractive as Bucky Barnes. 

At your words, Bucky brought his head back down to get a proper look at your tail. You turned around so your back and elbows were leaning against the deck. You let your deep violet tail breach out of the water so Bucky could see it better. You heard him gasp as your scales caught in the sunlight, changing the violet color to resemble fuchsia instead. Bucky’s eyes raked over your tail before taking in the top half of your body as well, resting on the flesh colored webbing that wound its way over your chest. 

“What, no seashell bra?” He teased. You simply rolled your eyes in annoyance at the question. 

“Is that the only question you have for me?” You bantered back, rolling along in the water to face him once more, forearms resting on the ledge. Your wet hair cascaded down your back, it didn’t matter how long or short you cut your hair, in the water the length was always the same, stopping just above the small of your back. 

“How, um, how long have you been like this?” 

“Well I wasn’t born a mermaid if that’s what you’re wondering. When I was sixteen I went on a trip with my parents to the beach. One night, something pulled me out of bed, almost like a strange sensation. I followed it to a cave and into the water that was there, like my own personal pool. I waded into the water just as the full moon rose above and then the strangest thing happened. The water started to bubble and fizz around me and it felt more like a natural hot spring than a cold pool. I got out of the water not long after that and I didn’t think much about it until the next day when I went swimming in the water early in the morning and sprouted a tail.” 

“What did your parents say?” He questioned, leaning his elbows against his thighs to get closer to you. 

“They didn’t believe me until I showed them. They’re biologists so they tried to find a natural explanation for it but all their tests came back inconclusive and I accepted that there are some things in this world that you simply cannot explain.” You told him, having spent countless nights yourself trying to figure out what happened to you to make you what you are today. 

“So this” He started, gesturing towards your purple tail, “happens every time you touch water.” You simply nodded in response. 

“My hydrokinetic abilities can be accessed any time but they’re stronger when I’m in the water.” 

“You’re not gonna make me drown myself by singing to me are you?” He questioned, half teasing but with a wary look in his eyes. 

“No, there’s no chance of that, but weird things do tend to happen each full moon which is why I try my best to avoid them.” 

You and Bucky talked for a little while longer, him asking questions and you answering them to the best of your abilities. Bucky saw that the sun was setting and made his way to stand up. 

“Okay, it’s getting late. We should probably head back to the beach house for the night.” 

“You go ahead, I haven’t been out in the water in the longest time. I’ll meet you back in about an hour.” 

“You sure?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at you from his place behind the wheel. 

“I’m sure.” You replied before diving into the depths of the lake once again. You treasured the feeling of the freshwater in your hair and how your tail whipped through the water making you the fastest thing around. You hadn’t felt this exhilarated in two years and you didn’t intend to get out of the water any time soon.

[con-zombie]

Mutually Dumb Questions

I was tagged by @bunny-boyler ty ☺️💖

Rules

Tag some mutuals for them to answer a series of dumb questions.

If you’re tagged:

a) Skip questions you don’t have to answer

b) Add a question of your own before tagging other people to do it

QUESTIONS SO FAR

What was the last movie you watched and would you recommend it?

Paradise Hills and yes absolutely it’s beautifully shot and has a great plot

What’s a song lyric that hits hard?

“I don’t wanna be myself, just wanna be someone else

I don’t wanna be myself, it’s making me so unwell”

If Lemony Snicket wrote a book about you what would the alliterative title be?

Ummm idk “The Depressed Dimwit”

Which studio ghibli film would you most like to live in?

Idk I’ve not seen any of them 😬

What is a world you can never spell right no matter how many times you try?

Fuchsia

What was the last thing you baked?

Blueberry muffins!

What will always be a Hard No for you?

Sports, whether it’s trying them or watching them

What is the most aggressively ugly piece of clothing you own?

Okay idk if I still have it but it’s like this weird beige salmon gross colour T-shirt that I wear when I bleach my hair

What’s a reason you’d be cancelled?

Idk dude I’m super annoying and I think everyone would be like can we just stop this bitch

When was the last time you screamed aloud and why?

Today bc I got really frustrated with myself

What’s something that’s not scary but terrified you as a kid?

That Pixar lamp thing that hops along and crushes the i and then it gets dark and the light is still on just staring at you okay I think it still scares me

What’s a basic life skill that you either don’t know how to do or just plain suck at?

Idk how to ride a bike if that counts? If not then I fucking suck at cooking (idk how bc I can bake really well)

What was the last expensive thing you purchased?

A fleshlight shshdgvs (it’s expensive to me I’m poor)

What is something that bugs you that probably shouldn’t?

When people leave doors open idk why it just really fucking bugs me

Pick a team of Pokemon to have in real life

So I’m not a Pokemon fan but I do really like Sableye, Cubone, Phantump and Cofagrigus (idk how many I need to pick I just really like the ghost ones)

If you were an RPG character what weird non-combat item would you wield as a weapon?

A big book

What’s a conspiracy theory you actually believe?

Idk if it still counts as a conspiracy but the royals 100% had Diana killed

What’s you’re number 1 nostalgic childhood tv show?

Fuuuck there’s a lot um I’ll go with Courage The Cowardly Dog

I’ll add: What’s a good dream you had that’s always stuck with you?

I tag: @hexenhavs @just-a-got-otaku @mihcael5sos

and I’m too anxious to add anyone else dhdhsshsh if we’re mutuals and you wanna do this feel free to say I tagged you I don’t mind x

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Dark Curse

Chapter 118:  Staying Ahead of the Future

The Dark One Vault wasn't far, Guinevere and Lancelot would be there soon enough, even if they didn't know where they were going. So, with the pair on their way, he used his magic and beat them to the vault. Merlin's Tower he'd returned to time and time again since learning about it, and the conversation he'd had with Nimue at the forge was not the first he'd had, but this vault…it was the first time he'd been back since he'd become the Dark One. It had been well over one hundred years. Like the stone, the forest looked hardly any different. It had been pitch black when he'd first arrived here then, and other than some overgrowth, it appeared just as it always had. There was the spot he'd first seen Zoso. There was the place he'd first discovered he'd no longer needed his cane. Over to his left was the place the Dark One who had shown him water to view Baelfire had waited for him. And where he was standing now was the first place he'd caught a glimpse of Nimue. He wasn't at the forge now, but as he looked down upon the platform he'd once arisen out of, he channeled her knowledge to see it as he hadn't that night. It wasn't a platform. It was a door. There were symbols around the metal platform, symbols he'd seen in his work and in the work of the Dark Ones that came before him. But here, they were more than that. They were the key. Nimue whispered away in his ear and he reached his hand out over them, using magic to touch them: the Eye of Providence, the Pentagram, the Sun.

He stood back as the vault opened to him. How the Guinevere and Lancelot were going to get into the vault was a mystery to him, but the Seer hadn't been wrong yet. Somehow, they were going to manage. And he would be ready for them when they did.

The inside of the vault was not unlike a mining passage. In fact, it reminded him a lot of the tunnel he'd encountered at Bald Mountain, only instead of draining his magic, as Bald Mountain had, the magic he felt around him now had a signature that matched his own. There was no fairy magic here. Only very, very Dark Magic. He could feel traps that were set, he recognized them, even felt as though Nimue was warning him they were there. But they were traps meant to keep intruders out, not Dark Ones. In the end, all he needed to do was allow his own magic to flare so that their magic recognized his own and they stayed hidden from sight, and, with a little extra push, for the foreseeable future. Lancelot and Guinevere were on their way, his vision showed them getting to the dagger and he wanted the Gauntlet on her arm. He saw no reason to try and keep them out. He stopped the traps that he could and left the ones he couldn't for them to figure out. They'd never know, they'd never be grateful.

Finally, up ahead, at the end of the tunnel, he saw a door. It was the same door he'd seen in his vision. He used his magic to open it and observed as something like the surface of the water appeared behind it. It moved and flowed to an invisible current, another trick of magic put there by Nimue herself to scare people away and keep them out. He, however, was the Dark One. He knew what was on the other side. So he walked through the door with confidence, and on the other side…

Yes, this was certainly where he was supposed to be.

The vision had passed by him fast before, and the focus had been on the dagger and the pedestal, but the second he saw the world around him, a tropical paradise, he knew that it was right. It reeked of Dark Magic. And there, in the center of the room, on a gray pedestal held up by black, snake-like legs, was the dagger. Or rather…a dagger.

He let out a sigh of relief as he came closer to it and found confirmation that it wasn't his dagger. He could feel his own in his boot. Someone would have been an idiot to put it here for anyone to find, even with the traps outside set. It was a fake. And as he looked it over he was assaulted with a memory of another time, from another Dark One. His name was Lucifer, he'd set it there as a trap, a warning. The second he removed the fraudulent dagger from the pedestal, he heard a ringing in the back of his head that told him the dagger was in danger. Lucifer wasn't a fool. He'd done it this way on purpose. This way someone could take a false dagger, but the Dark One could be alerted that someone was after them and destroy them before they ever figured out the fraud and carried out the actual deed of collecting the real dagger. In his heyday, when Lucifer had set the spell, it was a very clever decoy. Now it was ancient and nearly forgotten, but still helpful. The false dagger still bore the name of Lucifer, a reminder of just how little magic it carried. For a moment, he considered leaving it alone, not risking the pair learning his name, but if he had it his way, and if Lucifer had done his job right, they would never get their hands on it. With a wave of his hand, he inscribed his own name on the blade, then placed it back in its trap and just in time it seemed. In his head, he could feel another warning, one that Nimue herself had put there telling him that someone was at one of the vaults. This vault. They were coming, coming for the dagger that they didn't realize wasn't real with Merlin's Gauntlet and a broken kingdom on their minds. Knowing his dagger was safe was reassuring, but that didn't make this trip useless. For the first time in a long time, something had been removed from Merlin's Tower, and he would take it for himself. This could work out for everyone, just so long as he was clever about it. He wanted that Gauntlet and they wanted the dagger, or at least they thought they did. They didn't know what he knew. Magic could solve anything.

He cast a quick spell to turn himself invisible just as the door opened. And then there they were. The two he'd seen in his vision. Queen Guinevere and noble knight Lancelot at her side!

"There it is!" the woman exclaimed, coming closer at a quick pace. "Excalibur will finally be complete."

She was excited, and he stood by the little table and the fake dagger watching to see what would happen as she extended her hand to take it and-

Magic pulsed through the air and through him, magic that was tied to him but not set by him blasted the couple back so that they landed a dozen feet away on their backs. The magic was not unlike what Merlin had used at his tower, only, if he had to guess, and he didn't because he knew, it worked in reverse. He was free to take the dagger because he was the Dark One. No one else was. Well now, that was a handy little trick.

"Not exactly a sword in the stone, but it still does the trick!" he announced, allowing his spell to disintegrate and show him to them. He laughed as the pair noticed him but didn't miss a beat. They rose to their feet and pointed their swords in unison, showing off that cord he'd seen in his vision that they were either ignorant to or purposefully ignoring. Given their comfort around one another, and their loyalty to Arthur, he'd guess they were blissfully unaware of one another's feelings. But there were ways around that, just as there were ways around those swords. With a wave of his hand, the blades were gone, and the pair looked at each other with worry and shock. It surprised even him. Those couldn't have been the only weapons on them, or else the King greatly underestimated his knights! Not that he'd worry about another weapon, he was more concerned with what the girl was wearing now that the sword was gone: the glove that had led them here. He could feel the magic coming off of it from here. It was powerful, and he wanted it for himself. The question was how to get it. "So, that's how you found this place, Merlin's gauntlet. That's quite a powerful object, at least for a wizard stuck in a tree."

"That dagger is Arthur's birthright, and you will surrender it to us," Guinevere declared bravely.

He smiled. Was that what she thought? Birthright? Had he inherited it? Or was it something else? The Gauntlet suggested the latter.

"So, that's King Arthur's weakness, is it?"

The girl didn't respond, just held her head up high and eyed him with suspicion at his knowledge. A sweet thing to be sure when he could do so much better than know about magical objects.

"So that must make you Guinevere. Sadly, I can't give you what you want, though I might be willing to part with the next best thing, assuming, of course, you're willing to make a deal for that gauntlet."

"What's the next best thing to completing a magical sword?" Lancelot questioned sarcastically, unbelieving. The dear Queen was just silent, she didn't respond one way or another, but her gaze told him that worked in his favor. Now why would that be? Was it because perhaps the Good Queen didn't truly want the sword to be whole again?

"Making it appear like it's been completed," he answered the Knight. "With this…"

From his workshop back home, he summoned into his hand a small vial of fuchsia grains that Jefferson had once retrieved from him. "Enchanted sand from the mystical Isle of Avalon." It was powerful magic, and it had taken a lot for Jefferson to retrieve it. He hated the idea of giving it away, but he was willing to part with it for a price. And much to his delight…the Queen appeared willing to bargain. "One pinch of this can 'fix' anything."

"Even Excalibur?" she questioned.

He smiled. Perhaps Arthur's Queen was not as loyal as he thought. "Your husband need never know. After all, what's one little secret if it means getting your husband back? Assuming, of course, that's, uh, still what you want," he stated, looking between the pair of them before he began to circle. He was examining something. That cord of love they shared was stronger now than it was in the vision. Something had happened on this trip that had strengthened their bond. Did they sense it? Would Arthur?

"And why should I trust you?" Guinevere called out, turning to meet him.

Well now, that was a question that he hadn't considered. Nor had he planned on it being asked. He didn't have a great answer for her, only a shot in the dark based on the tether he could see flashing between her and Lancelot. And a vision.

A vision of sitting at a table with the pair of them when they were older. There were children there. They belonged to both Guinevere and Lancelot. All but one pale little boy with sandy hair who couldn't stop talking with the children and rambling about being in a castle. He felt a great affection in his chest for that little boy. Arthur was nowhere to be found as they ate and yet, he felt a hand wrap warmly around his elbow as they had dinner together. But as he turned to respond to the gesture...

The vision faded before he could see who it was...

How…interesting.

"Because I know what happens when a woman's heart is torn between duty and desire," he dared to guess as he moved around them and concentrated on the little bottle. "And believe me, it never ends well."

He was trying to get the vision back, trying to see the person who had touched him, who was eating with the three of them like they were old friends. But nothing sparked. It was as if the Seer was keeping a secret from him.

"Please, Guinevere," he heard Lancelot whisper affectionately behind him. "Don't listen to this demon."

Demon! That was a new name. Harsh. Interesting that one day they might be friends.

"I will accept your deal," the Queen declared.

He forgot the vision and instead laughed as he spun back to look at her removing the Gauntlet from her hand and Lancelot looking him over with distrusting eyes.

"Good girl!" He didn't know how they'd ever get to be friends, but handing him the Gauntlet certainly would go a long way for that. Perhaps…so would a little warning. "But be careful. Love is a weapon, dearie. The most dangerous weapon of all, which means the pain you should worry about isn't the kind inflicted by a broken sword, but the kind that comes, from a broken heart…" he stared up at Lancelot as they spoke, suddenly aware of how much time there was between now and the vision he'd had.

Guinevere took off the Gauntlet, and he took it as Lancelot snatched the bottle from his fingers and said, "Let's go!" to his Queen. The Knight's eyes were on him the entire way as they backed out of the room, and he was graced with one more small flash of a vision.

Watching Lancelot and Guinevere ride through the streets of Camelot with their children as he watched in the crowd. They both wore crowns.

His Queen indeed. He couldn't wait to see how their future would play out.