#and i’m usually a girl with a plan and a direction and specific horizons

[yatiso]

why do i give advice i know is right but cant make myself follow

#🍒 #i have all the answers except i struggle with keeping myself on track #im giving myself a headache rn i can see im leaving a past life behind but i dont know what life im entering and it has got me stressed #i mean up to a point i do. but ever so widely i do not know whats in store for me #and i’m usually a girl with a plan and a direction and specific horizons #i am lost but i know im going the right way….. #i think im spiraling 🌀 ever so slightly this last 1 #hour and a half at work needs to wrap itself up

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Small Time Witch (27)

A S G A R D

When you were a small child you attended a Christian nursery school until you were old enough to start kindergarten. One of your very earliest memories was how your teacher described heaven. She called it paradise where the weather was always warm and there were so many trees and mountains and sprawling landscapes. “In the middle,” she would say “is the Lord’s palace. It is so bright and shiny that you will almost be blinded by its majesty.” Perhaps the teacher had been a former resident of Asgard.

You stood at the foot of the Bifrost bridge where Heimdall greeted you. In the distance was the palace glistening like a jewel amongst the stone statues and mountains. The water beneath the bridge looked like it was made of glass it was so still and blue. If you didn’t know better you would have believed you were walking into Oz.

Heimdall stood next to you staring into the horizon with his gold eyes glinting in the sun. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

“Yeah” was all you could manage.

“Welcome to Asgard, Princess.” You were startled back into reality.

“I’m not a princess. Please call me Y/N.”

“Your marriage to the Prince is recognized by the throne. It would be improper of me to call you by your name. The Allfather is expecting you.” He directed you into the care of two palace guards who freaking bowed to you. They loaded you into a small craft that zipped you to the palace.

Thor was waiting for you at the door. He introduced himself extending his hand. You reminded him that you were family and you hug. “It’s weird, Thor, because in another life I know you. We’re very close and get into all sorts of trouble together. Usually alcohol is involved.”

He laughed and drew you into his Vice grip. “You remind me of my mother. That may serve you well today.”

“I hope so. The only Odin stories I ever hear are of him being super gruff. He was even a little mean to Jane. Who can be mean to Jane Foster? Sweetest person ever.”

“You know of my Jane?”

“Of course. We’re very good friends. When you’re in town you two usually stay with us. It’s nice.” You didn’t have the heart to tell him that Jane passed away due to complications from cancer. Bruce thought the Aether likely mutated her cells and her body didn’t handle it well. Knowing that you were friends with Jane put a little smile on his face so you chose to keep it to yourself.

When you approached Odin you bowed. He peered down at you from his throne. He looked older than you thought he would. The guy was ancient. You supposed he shouldn’t look young. He looked more frail than anything.

He stood up and walked down the steps to be closer to you. “So this is the Midgardian witch who captured my son’s heart? You are very impressive, young lady. I’ve heard of your talents. Let’s leave this room and retire to my chambers. We’ll have more privacy.” He offered his arm which you took. Thor followed behind. “Please, sit. Now, what can I do for you?”

“Right down to business. Ok. Your highness, I am here to negotiate the terms of Loki’s sentence. The King and small council of Vanaheim have offered to keep Loki in the palace, with your consent of course. In exchange, they will keep me in the Temple of the Vanir to learn their ways. Also, my powers allow me to absorb the energy of the infinity stones. There is a Titan searching for the stones, sir. In my time, he destroyed Asgard and Xandar looking for them. If I can possess even two of them, I can stop him before he lays waist to the Nine.”

He did not say anything for several minutes. You were terrified. Finally, “The Vanir intend to weaponize you. Is that what I’m understanding?”

“I suppose that would imply that they have some sort of control over me. I will not be a weapon against another realm.”

“And if they use Loki as leverage, what choice would you have?”

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t have a tone in your voice. “With all due respect, Allfather, they wouldn’t have the strength to fight me. I know how this sounds. It is dangerous and there is no guarantee I’ll succeed. I have to try.”

“Thor? What do you think? Another one of Loki’s tricks?”

You started to panic. Thor’s brow was knitted together. He was skeptical of the whole plan.

“Please. Don’t you have your own prophet? How can I prove to you that I’m not tricking you? What can I do?”

“Thor, call in Freyr. Let’s see if he can make sense of this.”

When Freyr saw you his face lit up. “Princess! How lovely to see you again. May I have a moment alone with the girl?”

The two men left the room. “You remember meeting me?” Your voice was trembling.

“Of course! Are you still so naive to think time is linear? This, my dear, is your destiny. The Norns give you the illusion of free will when really all of this was predetermined. You are here because you are meant to fight this war.”

“And Loki?”

He patted you on the head, “He’ll come around.”

When Odin and Thor came back in Freyr did most of the talking. Odin agreed to come with you to Vanaheim to meet with the king and investigate this threat. That was all you could ask for.

He invited you to stay for a couple of days to get acquainted with your new home. It wasn’t a request that much you knew. Thor was happy to show you around. He brought you to your chambers which were near Frigga’s. He showed you her gardens and told you to feel free to explore. There were some sheers on a small table. You slipped them in your pocket so you could take some clippings. She had everything you could possibly need to preform a spell. Literally any spell you could think of.

Thor followed you listening to you speak about the flowers and herbs that grew wild there. The more you spoke the more he understood why Loki chose you. You were so like their mother but with a jagged edge. Poised and gentle but you would definitely cut a bitch without a second thought.

Once you sat down for lunch he worked up the courage to ask about his brother.

“Y/N, can you tell me why my brother did this? Why Midgard specifically?”

You put down your fork and looked him directly in the eyes, “I think you know the answer to that question. Because you loved Earth. Because Earth loved you. You found Jane. He was jealous and angry and took it out on you. But it took him years to admit that he was really so deeply hurt by Odin’s admission.”

“But why not fight me directly? The people on Midgard were innocent.” He was beginning to get angry. You had to remember this just happened so the wounds were still fresh.

“He did fight you directly in New Mexico. When he turned the Bifrost onto Jotunheim he effectively killed that part of himself. The part he thought monstrous. When he let go of Odin’s staff on the bridge, he thought he would either die or live on in exile somewhere. He was ready to leave it behind. But Thanos found him. First he seduced him with power and revenge then he tortured him into subjugation. For a whole year he tortured him. Then, during the attack, he was controlled by the mind stone and The Other could hear him. That’s why he didn’t relent when you said you would bring him home.”

Thor was quiet. You could see tears in his eyes. He had never thought of his brother as a monster. Even when the glory of Loki’s destruction rained down from the heavens, he still loved his brother. He thought back on how Loki looked when he saw him before Chitauri invaded. He looked sick and bruised. He was having trouble standing. The amount of force it would take to mark a god’s skin was beyond comprehension. And now, all he knew was that Loki was recovering on Vanaheim. He had no idea just how close to death Loki was.

When you returned to Vanaheim you went directly to the Temple of the Vanir. Thor went right to his brother. He was outwardly shocked by Loki’s appearance.

“Have you come to throw me in the dungeon?” Loki held Thor’s eyes to attempt to intimidate him. It wasn’t working. He winced as he tried to sit up straighter. Thor would not dare help him in fear of injuring his already fragile pride.

“No, brother. I’m here to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Then perhaps you’ll listen.” Loki looked away from him but raised his hand to signal him to carry on.

“If your quarrel was with me why not just fight me?”

“I wanted to prove to father that I can do something. He conquered realms. Why can’t I? That’s what kings do! It is my birthright!”

“Loki, I fear you and father are more alike than either of you care to admit. A king’s job is to unite the realms not to simply rule.”

Loki looked away in shame. “I would have been a good king. Both loved and feared. I would have built an empire.”

“And we all would have watched helpless as it consumed and destroyed you. Forget all of that. You have been given a second chance, brother. A chance with this woman who shares your spirit. Do not squander it lying about feeling sorry for yourself.”

Loki quirked his brow. He thought you had taken your one way trip back home after the way he treated you. Surely you weren’t still carrying on with your plan. The thing was no matter where you were on Vanaheim, he could feel you. Now he can’t. “She hasn’t gone?”

“No. She’s in the temple preparing for the stone. I’m going there myself. Why don’t you join me?”

“Funny. I can’t feel her.”

Thor gave him a weak smile and patted him on the shoulder. “Mother gave her free reign in her garden. No telling what manner of spell she conjured. I’m sure it’s for your own protection.”

You were a clever little witch. He would never say it aloud but he loved how quick you were. If you succeeded with the stones you two would be the most powerful couple in the known universe. You could probably dethrone Odin together. No army would be powerful enough to stop you. He stuck those thoughts into the back of his mind. You were uninterested in power in the way that Loki was. He could not understand your altruistic nature. All of this risk and for what? For people who didn’t know you existed. Though, if you didn’t care for others, he supposed you would have moved on by now and never given him a second chance. Perhaps now was the time to put such irrational things aside and support you.

——————————————————————

The Vanir worked quickly to construct a room strong enough to withstand a nuclear blast. You would have to crush the stone to release its full power. The only weapon strong enough for that was Mjölnir. If you were not worthy enough to wield it, Thor would have to be in the room with you. There was a real potential neither of you would make it out alive. First thing first, you had to lift the hammer.

The weight of Mjölnir would be of no concern if you were worthy. You stepped up to the handle and with effort you rocked it a little. Thor looked nervous. “You can do this, little sister.”

You took a deep breath, closed your eyes and on three you lifted again with an unburdened mind and a clear heart. The hammer was in your hands.

Gasps filled the room. No one dared utter a word. You let Mjölnir dangle from your wrist and made your way to Loki. “Lok, listen, if I don’t make it...”

“Shush, mortal. You will.”

You put your hand over his mouth, “If I don’t make it, please know that for one brief blissful moment, you were happy. We were happy. I love you.” He gripped your hand and opened his mouth to speak but you stopped him. “Don’t say it if it’s not true. Please.”

“Y/N, you will make it. I have faith in you.” You stared into each other’s eyes searchingly.

“You want to kiss me right now don’t you?”

He chuckled, “Desperately.”

You planted the softest most barely there kiss on his lips. He pulled you in to deepen the kiss. The tip of his tongue pressed against yours for just a second and then he released you. You pressed a knotted clipping of Yggdrasil into his palm and hung a tiny gold screw driver around his neck. When you walked away a gold bracelet adorned with emeralds dangled around your wrist. Around your left ring finger was a twin piece of knotted Yggdrasil. The screwdriver was warm to the touch and, if he listened closely, he swore he heard your heart beating.

You went into the room and slammed the metal shut and froze the lock. You held out your hand and forced the cube to crush with your magic. All that remained was the stone. This little blue stone that shined with the light of a million lightning strikes. It floated in the air. You circled it balancing Mjölnir on your shoulder. You plucked the blue candy button out of the air and placed it on the floor. As if it knew it was about to be set free, it released a high pitched whine. You raised the hammer into the air and with all of the force you could summon, you struck it. The room flooded with blue light so bright you couldn’t look directly at it. It sucked in its energy and then exploded outward sending shards of the jewel into your skin. It pushed you around the room like a pinball pinging you off of any surface it could find. You felt like your flesh was separating off of your bones and you were turning to liquid. All at once it went dark and dropped you to the ground.

——————————————————————

Loki paced the floor muttering to himself. Everyone else held their breathing straining to hear any sound. An utterance to let them know you’re alive. That’s when they heard the explosion. Blue light radiated from every exposed crack and nail hole. They heard your body careening off the walls and, with an unsettling thud, the room fell silent.

Loki rushed to the door trying to pry it open. The lock was jammed. Thor tried too but it wouldn’t budge. Njord yelled over their banging that the door was at least five inches thick. You wouldn’t hear them. He tried the key but it broke in the lock. Freyr used his seiðr to crush the door. When it fell away from it’s hinges, you emerged. Your hair had gone completely white and your eyes looked cloudy. You blinked a few times and they went back to normal.

You handed Thor his hammer and patted him on the shoulder. “Sister, speak to us. Are you well?”

You smiled and nodded. You took Loki’s hand in yours. Electricity crackled off of your fingertips. You smiled and opened a black void behind you for which to escape. In the blink of an eye you were on Asgard then Midgard then back to the temple. He laughed and clapped his hands, “You are a clever little witch aren’t you?”

“Princess...” Njord looked worried. You were unaware of your physical changes. You may have been a mutant but you were still a mortal. The stone could have severely injured you. “Your highness, please. We need to get you upstairs.”

“Relax, Njord. I’m perfectly fine. I feel amazing.” You were talking a mile a minute.

He kept insisting and you grew impatient. The more impatient you were the more your hands glowed and your eyes changed. “Njord, let’s give the Prince and Princess some space. She’ll come upstairs shortly.” Frigga ushered everyone out so you and Loki could sit in peace.

You couldn’t sit. Your skin felt too tight for your body. You needed to expel some energy. “Y/N, what’s going on in your head?”

“A million things. I’m wondering if I should go to south London right now since I know where the aether is. I’m wondering if the rest of my powers are amplified. I feel like I’m plugged into a massive battery, Lok. Maybe I can heal you quicker than Njord. Can I try?!”

He laughed and pulled you down into the chair next to him, “You’re like an excited puppy. Let’s go outside before you piddle on the floor. We can test your powers there.”

He lead you to an open space where you could work without fear of hurting someone. Your powers were indeed amplified. Your electricity was more like lightning. You grew a sapling into a knotted mature tree. You split yourself up into many clones and made it rain over the two of you. All of that should have tired you out but it did not. The last thing was to heal Loki. That was sure to drain you as broken as he was. You placed your hands on his solar plexus and went to work. Every ache and pain subsided every cut knitted itself back together. He felt reborn. You were settled.

You went back to the palace for dinner to talk strategy with Odin and the king. Since you and Loki were the only ones who ever faced Thanos, it was crucial that you were involved. You came to the conclusion that you needed numbers. You would divide the realms and enlist help even from the Dark Elves and Jötuns. You and Thor would go to Earth to speak with SWORD who handled all extra dimensional doings. Everyone agreed that Loki shouldn’t travel to Midgard just yet. You insisted the Avengers not be involved but, your X-men friends would be delighted to assist. At this point, they were more powerful anyway.

When you retired for the evening, Loki walked you back to your room. “May I ask you something?” His eyes were fixed on the floor he tried his hardest to sound confident. You lifted his chin so he would look at you. “Why couldn’t I sense you when you arrived? Why can’t I feel you now?”

“I guess I just wanted you to feel your own feelings for a change. I thought I might be overwhelming you.”

“I thought...” he laced his fingers in with yours, “I thought you were angry with me.”

“Oh I was. You’ve never raised your voice to me. It hurt. I didn’t want you to know how much.”

He didn’t know how much he missed you in the short time you were gone. He missed you right now and you were standing right in front of him. He kissed you on the corner of your mouth, “I’m sorry to have raised my voice. I’m sorry I’m hurting you. I wish I could love you as you love me. I am trying, Pet.”

“Lok, you can’t fall in love with someone in such a short period. We have time.” You kissed him gently and slipped into your room.

He stayed outside of your chambers for a while with his head pressed against the door. Love was not something he gave freely. He wished things were different. He wished his future self never helped Thor. He wished he would know the happiness you spoke of. One day he would. For now he would keep on disappointing you.

——————————————————————

The next morning you woke up and surveyed the clothing you were gifted. Nothing screamed Midgard 2012 to you. You waved your hand over your body and came up with something more south London and less Stratford Upon Avon. Satisfied with your look you set out to Loki’s chambers.

You knocked but he didn’t answer. Once more and a giggling flustered chamber maid opened. She straitened up when she saw your face and readjusted her apron straps. “Princess!” she yelped. “Apologies. Prince Loki should be along shortly.”

“You know what? Tell him don’t bother.”

She called after you but you didn’t turn around. You kept your spine straight and let your head high. Your heels clacked loudly as you stomped through the halls with a walk that would make Naomi Campbell proud.

Thor was coming out of his room and smiled when he saw you, “Good morning, sister! You’re looking well.”

“Are you ready to go? I don’t think it’s wise for Loki to show his face on earth.”

Thor was pretty daft when it came to the whims of the fairer sex but your face was speaking loud and clear. You held his hand and landed in a warehouse in London. You searched high and low but struck out.

“What exactly are we looking for?”

“A void filled with a red mist.”

“And you are certain it’s here?”

“This is where Jane found it, yes.”

“Is this around the time she found it. Maybe it’s not here yet.”

“No, it’s here. I can feel it. I just have to ah! It’s here.”

He swung Mjölnir and the wall crumbled. You stuck your hand in and he grabbed you.

“Wait. Is this wise? I feel like one of the Vanir should be with you or at least Loki. If anything goes wrong I won’t know how to help you.”

“Your brother is more interested in his chamber maids than saving the universe. If anything goes wrong, call for Heimdall.”

“Did you catch him with someone else? It’s very common in royal marriages...”

The Aether called to you and effectively drowned him out. While he prattled on you put your arm through the wall and let it take you. It meshed with the space stone because they were meant to be together. Their energies lifted you up off the ground and light poured out your eyes mouth and fingers. You collapsed back down where Thor caught you. He shook you but you were unable to focus. You put your fingers to your mouth and pulled away with crimson soaked tips. Thor scooped you into his arms cursing you and then raised Mjölnir to call Heimdall. Just then you stopped him.

“No. No, I’m fine. Don’t call him.”

“But, sister.”

“No. Put me down.” He did as he was told and carefully set you on your feet. You smoothed your hair and fixed your clothes. With a flourish all of the blood vanished.

“Come on. Let’s go see Jane.”

“You are out of your mind. I have to get you back to Njord.”

“Nonsense. I have to see Dr. Selvig to fix what my darling husband broke. And you, brother, need to see Jane. You miss her. I want you to be happy. She needs to be happy. Just take her to lunch.”

He agreed but insisted you take more traditional transportation rather than using your powers. You found the nearest train station and took the tube to Jane’s office. This Jane was a lot less together than the Jane you knew. She was so stunned to see Thor at her door that she could barely speak.

You introduced yourself as Loki’s wife but assured her your marriage was less gothic romance and more Charles and Di. A reference that Thor didn’t understand but Jane did perfectly. She brought you to Dr. Selvig who was speaking nonsensically. He seemed to recognize you right away. Though you had not yet met he knew the energy that was inside you. You placed your hands on either side of his head and pulled the power of the space stone out of him. He was weak but thinking for himself.

You practically pushed the happy couple out of the door to have lunch on you. You conjured a credit card an an id for Thor. You said you had business to attend to.

Darcy offered to give you a ride which you happily accepted. Had her drop you in front of Claridge's, a very posh hotel in Hyde Park, where you intended to relax and partake in retail therapy. Magically their best room was available for the evening. You held your breath when they ran your card. You had no idea if it would work. Luckily it did. The porter showed you to your room. You asked for a bottle of single malt and a glass to be left in the seating area. You kicked off your shoes and started to unbutton your blouse when you heard a man clear his throat.

You had not immediately seen Mobius M. Mobius when you entered. Funny, neither did the porter. Electricity crackled in your fingers and, as you raised them to strike, he walked toward you. “Holster those weapons, Mrs. Laufeyson. Or is it Odinson? Either way. I’m not here to hurt you. Just to talk.”

“Do you drink scotch?”

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #marvel #marvel witches #mcu x reader #loki angst #loki of jotunheim #loki x you #loki odinson #infinity stones #thanos #TVA #mobius m mobius

[writers-thoughts09]

True Mind, True Heart

Act 1 Chapter 2 (Part 1)

Title: True Mind, True Heart: Act 1 Chapter 2 (Part 1) About 5.7k words Pairing: Zuko x OC (or reader idk, mind you this is like a mega slow burn fanfic so i hope you’re okay with thaaaaat). I don’t own Avatar or the character’s except my OC. Rating: PG, maybe some 13 later on Warning: Mean Zuko, uuuuuh i think that’s it. A/N: I’m so sorry for the majorly late update! I’m doing my best I have a lot planned for this story and I plan to finish this, I hope you guys will follow Lila’s journey with me! :) <3.  I apologize if the fight scenes are choppy and unclear, I’ve never written or broke down a fight scene in writing before. I might go back and fix this later. Tomorrow I’ll post part 2. Anyway without further adieu enjoy the read :)

|Prologue| 1 | 2 part 1 | 2 part 2

*

Act 1: Salvation

The sunset was quite a breathtaking sight to see if someone were to take the time to stop and stare. With the sun warm and low on the horizon, lovely rays of orange light sprawled softly across the sky, creating pink orange and yellow hues. A gradient of shades, begging to be admired. The white clouds that slowly rolled by basked in the mix of colors as they too took some of the sun’s golden tinge. Of course, no one was around to witness this natural piece of art since everyone was busy going about their business, especially on Prince Zuko’s ship.

For hours Lila sat silently in her dingy quarters, no hitch detected in her breathing. Quiet and still like a swamp with dark murky water. Untouched and motionless. Ever since Prince Zuko’s morning lessons, no one’s asked for Lila’s assistance with anything, so, for the remainder of the day, she’s been in her room.

If anyone, say Iroh, were to see her meditating, they would’ve thought she looked exactly like prince Zuko during his meditation sessions. Mimicking what she remembered the night she brought him his dinner Lila sat with her back straight, eyes closed, accompanied by nothing except deep breathing. Even though she imitated the prince’s form and tried to follow Iroh’s teachings from this morning’s lesson, it was like there was a block between her and her element. Like her fingertips would come so close to grazing that certain feeling but were still out of reach from fully grasping it. No matter how hard she’d concentrate to connect with that energy lying dormant inside her, nothing worked.

But finally, after sitting on the uncomfortable floor for who knows how long, Lila began to feel an inkling of that same euphoric peace build within her body again. It was similar to what she felt earlier above deck but slightly different. It was softer, less…magnetic as it ebbed the presence of her emotions away. Specifically, impatience and frustration when lieutenant Jee came knocking and interrupted her a while ago.

With meticulous breaths, Lila drew a smooth inhale in through her nose, filling her lungs, traveling down, expanding her belly, and gently expelled the air from her mouth, the water in her cup rippling in sync. Her heart maintained tempo with her breathing, which was strong and consistent as each beat pulsed through her being.

Though her body was at ease, patience evaded Lila’s mind, blinding her progress as she huffed in irritation. Eyes still closed she shifted her bottom for the umpteenth time. Soft like a feather but sharp like a beak, she drew another breath in, doing her best to maintain what little connection she felt with her element while keeping her frustrations at bay. Just when she was about to exhale, that breath turned into a yelp when a loud boom exploded from beyond the ship.

Like the snap of a rubber band, Lila’s concentration was broken yet again as her eyes flew open. With a start, the sudden noise made Lila jump and pull a small amount of water, which she didn’t notice as she stood up in alarm. Confusion and fear clouded her as she listened for what could’ve possibly made a noise that loud. It sounded like a flare, but Lila wasn’t so sure. “Is it an ambush?...No it couldn’t be; we haven’t had any problems or run-ins with anyone for a long while.”

Lila’s thoughts were going in circles as she rushed to her drawer to grab a fresh piece of cloth she cut up weeks before, tied it over her marred eye before reluctantly opening the door. Silently, a tawny-colored iris peeped down the metal hallways, no benders or guards in sight. However, even if they weren’t down below they might’ve already been above deck when whatever it was went off.

Noiselessly and carefully, with nimble steps like an alley cat, Lila crept through the corridors and up the familiar set of stairs. Mangled fingernails trailed along the metal wall to aid her lack of sight. Once Lila climbed up to the main deck and felt fresh air ruffle the fallen curls from her bun, Lila’s suspicions were confirmed. A bright naval flare signal was falling far out in the snowy distance. She watched, her good eye following its downward path, musing to herself, “Where did it come from though?”

Noticing the absence of prince Zuko, Uncle Iroh, and their men who were usually out and about above deck around this time, Lila glanced around the empty ship then turned to the command tower. Squinting her good eye Lila’s gaze raked up the length of it and stopped at the observation deck’s balcony. As clear as the golden sky she caught sight of the Prince. Half of his scarred face obscured as he peered through the telescope attached to the railing in front of him. Although she couldn’t see gauge what he was feeling, she was certain he figured out what or who signaled that flare and was already directing his next course of action.

When suddenly that same foreboding sensation from before when they first saw the beam of light, roiled around her chest and stomach, leaving Lila uneasy. Why? Well, she didn’t know what to expect. Was it the avatar? A false alarm? She didn’t know and not knowing left a nasty taste in her mouth.

After Prince Zuko finished barking orders at his men, solar colored eyes caught a glimpse of the curly-haired servant below seconds before he continued looking through the telescope. The girl stood by herself with half her face covered, the setting sun illuminating her tanned skin, and looked up at him with -what he could detect- nervousness. Prince Zuko didn’t know as to why nor did he care. The entirety of his focus on capturing the Avatar.

A brown eye fluttered as Lila snapped from her thoughts. Hurriedly she turned and hastened down below to the kitchen. She knew now was not the time to get distracted from her work. Earlier the chef told her he was ill and asked Lila to fill in for him tonight. She agreed though something told her he was lying. Through the maze of corridors and staircases, a passing conversation of a few men could be heard as they rushed by.

One man bumped her shoulder as he hissed, “hurry, we have to dress the Prince, the Avatar’s hiding place has been found. We’re going to the southern water tribe.”

Lila’s eye widened as her breath hitched at the mention of her mother’s sister tribe. If the Avatar is truly alive and has been hiding there for the past hundred years…worry gripped her heart over the safety of the tribes' native people. Although prince Zuko hasn’t engaged in many battles with other ships or neighboring nations, the Fire Lord’s son was a wildly stubborn and determined boy who’d stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Lila didn’t doubt he’d probably leave a trail of chaos in his wake with no regard for the consequences or how it’d affect the lives of others.

Once she entered the empty kitchen Lila rolled her sleeves up and got to preparing dinner, the red dye of her uniform reminding her of the clothes she wore as a child in the palace. As she cooked, she blinked back thoughts she knew all too well. Red uniform

Screams of fear echoing in the palace gardens

A girl in royal garbs

“You’re useless.” ... “Holy-ow!”

A sudden stinging pain roughly pulled Lila from the haze of old memories. In her stupor, Lila didn’t notice how close the knife was while cutting the spring unions and managed to slice her pointer finger. Quickly, the girl staggered away from the kitchen counter, removing the steaming pots and pans with her uninjured hand, and flitted about the kitchen looking for anything to stop the bleeding. She checked all the drawers, cabinets, and pantries as bright red blood continued to ooze over her finger and onto her hand. The throbbing and stinging continued to intensify making Lila bite her lip in pain as she tucked her finger beneath her thumb. Unable to find any clean rags or towels-

“My eye cloth…”

A tug on her heart stopped her search momentarily.

To her, that cloth was like a barricade of some sort to Lila. Sheltering the small girl from being reminded of it…the day she lost-

In summary, her eye patch was the only thing that blocked out the reality of what happened that day. Regardless of how vulnerable she felt without the cloth now was not the time or the place to start feeling insecure or hesitant, she knew that. There was work to be done; rice and meat filleting.

With the cleaning basins for the dishes nearby Lila went toward it to clean her finger and avoid food contamination. It should’ve been cleaned and refilled now that it was close to dinner time. Ready to dunk her hand in the water and wash her bloodied wound she stopped abruptly. The whole bucket was still dirty from lunchtime. Bits and pieces of rice, chicken, and other scraps floated about in the water. With a rough sigh and a curl of a plump lip, Lila closed her eye for a moment.

“I can’t catch a break,” she groaned lowly. Never again was she going to fill in for the chef.

Still, she was a servant…what could she do? Nothing. Before she could change her mind, Lila briskly grabbed the knot of the cloth from behind her head and pulled it free, a few strands of curls ripping from her bun. The milky white of her blinded eye on full display, free of any covering but chained to inhibition. Gloomy hands of her past groped and reached for Lila, but she slapped their searching palms away as she began wrapping her wound. Gentle but sure fingers tied the end of her cloth into a firm knot and she inspected her handiwork with a wistful smile. The memory of her mother’s soft hands dressing the wounds of a child rolled like a movie, replacing the ones Lila usually remembered.

“Lila, you fell again?”

The playful timbre of her mother's low voice filled their backyard. Lila’s childish eyes bubbling with tears raised from the cut on her knee as her mother calmly squatted in front of her fallen form.

“I didn’t mean to mommy. The tree was in my way,” cried her indignant daughter. Laughter rang from her mother, a white bandage appearing in her dark hands, 

“Of course, but you also have to be careful where you’re stepping too, my love.” Knowing her mother was right but still unhappy with that answer, Lila huffed out a sniffle. Tenderly her mom cupped the back of her daughter’s freshly scraped knee and began lecturing, “Here, let’s teach you how to fix wounds, big girls are good at that-”

“Big girls like you, mommy?” A squeaky voice interrupted.

Nuna glanced up at her daughter’s question. Brown innocent eyes that held such curiosity reflected in Nuna’s blue ones she just had to laugh.

“Yes Lila, big girls like me and you.”

Lowering her newly wrapped finger, Lila’s lips fell back into a straight line. She had no time to get lost in her thoughts. Deciding to try and cover her eye with her hair, her uninjured hand pulled her hair free from the fire nation styled top knot. Onyx curls tumbling down the length of her back in one fell swoop, kissing the top of her hips. The overwhelming urge to moan in relief had goosebumps tickle Lila’s spine as the tension of her tight bun dissipated almost instantaneously. She brought her hands up under her hair and aggressively massaged her scalp, both eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“Ahh, yes…” A soft groan rumbled from the back of her throat.

“Ahem.”

“Oh, my goodness!” She gasped.

Whipping toward the kitchen door, hands tangled in her roots, the men from earlier in the hallway were standing there watching her as if they’d found an earth kingdom stowaway. Though the more she watched them with increasingly flushed cheeks, the more she realized they were staring at the eye. Tanned hands flew from her scalp to shake her curls and obscure their sight, but it was futile, they already saw the clouded pigmentation. Involuntarily closing her eye, the servant girl clasped her hands over her stomach and curled into a bow.

“Um, hello,” Lila stuttered but caught herself, remembering her place. Kind professionalism coating her soft question, “how may I be of service to you?”

The man who she heard speak in the corridor collected himself faster than the rest and cleared his throat before announcing,

“We are close to our arrival of the southern water tribe and Prince Zuko has requested your presence to dress him for the capture of the Avatar.”

Alarm colored Lila’s features when she recalled the last time she was alone with the prince. Streams of tears and memories he unintentionally triggered that night played before her. Swallowing down the building discomfort in her throat, Lila straightened up and schooled her worry lines into a controlled smile. She had to remind herself, “The Prince didn’t know.”

Apparently, for the men, Lila’s forced smile mixed with the ghastly mismatched color of her eyes was too much to handle, unable to hide their distaste. Faster than she could stop it, a pang of offense and hurt yanked at her heart, but she managed to stifle and shove the feelings away as she gave another trained bow. Though a question did come to mind.

“I beg your pardon, but may I ask why he requested me specifically? He has never requested this of me before,” words mousy.

Her question only seemed to cause the man to grow irritated, his eyebrow ticking in impatience as major attitude gripped his words, “The prince claimed to be displeased with our services in preparing him. Now, would you please stop talking and do what prince Zuko has asked of you? He’s waiting.”

“What about the food-”

“Servant girl, what did I just say?” The man angrily snapped.

With a flinch, Lila mumbled, “My apologies,” before bowing one last time.

Throwing an “Unbelievable” over his shoulder, he and his two companions turned to leave the kitchen.

His snarky tone made Lila frown and furrow her brows. Oh, this girl had no idea of the colorful range of words Prince Zuko used to describe him and his men! Comparing them to fire ferrets! Ha, the nerve of that prince! On top of a bruised ego, the man now had to deal with a servant who couldn’t even see right and didn’t know when to be quiet and simply serve! Lila watched them exit the kitchen, soft frown still intact as she cocked her head to the side.

With them gone, Lila moved the last bits of uncooked food away from the fire as she rushed to the prince’s quarters. With one hand on the wall, Lila hotfoot it through the twists and turns of the dim-lit hallways and up the main stairs. The frigid wind stung her cheeks, her servant's uniform doing nothing in keeping her warm as she speed-walked toward the command tower. However, it did help now that her hair was unrestrained, long curls shielding her arms from the nights southern cold. All but running into the tower, warmth immediately licked at her body. The fire emanating heat and light from the wall torches eased the stiffness of her shivering joints. Her relief was short-lived when she remembered that Prince Zuko’s room was still a few floors up. With a pout and a whimper, Lila began jogging the rest of the way toward her master’s room.

Once she reached his metal door, a winded Lila lifted her bandaged hand and softly knocked, a throb of pain shooting down her finger as she waited. Like usual, the gravelly voice of the prince commanded her to come in.

Using both hands, the petite girl turned the large cogwheel and pried the door open. Identical to last time, she peered into his room, took one cautious step in and hesitantly called out,

“You’ve requested my assistance, Prince Zuko?”

Mindful of the eye, Lila discreetly pushed some hair and hid it from view. The reaction of the men before told Lila it’d be better to keep her disability hidden if it was that distracting.

“Yes, come quickly. I want to be ready by the time we reach the southern water tribe.”

Judging from the clam raspy tone of voice, Lila concluded that The Prince wasn’t angry and carefully entered, closing the door behind her.

Near his meditation table, Prince Zuko stood like any fire nation soldier would with the usual scowl on his lips. As Lila inched in front of him she could already see that the straps holding his fire nation armor together were tied in all the wrong places. Being alone and in such close proximity to the brooding prince, Lila felt her nerves begin to quake. No way did she want a repeat of last time, anxiety sprouting from her chest. The tension was palpable in the room. The lack of conversation didn’t help either as she thought of what Prince Zuko and his men might do to the people living in that tribe. Though she’s never been to the northern or southern water tribe, they were still her mother’s people, thus making them part of her kin.

“Will they do what the fire nation did to my village, too? We didn’t even have the Avatar either and they still ravaged my village.”

In an attempt to silence her thoughts, Lila gingerly grabbed the chords holding the chest piece of his armor together and set to work. Her eyes trained solely on his battle wear. Cautious of her injury Lila made sure to keep her finger from touching him. Any bump or jostle hurt. Though her fingers, minus her pointer, were moving, her mind remained on the tribe's native people.

Zuko looked straight ahead as the shaky but lithe digits of the servant – Lila, was it? - untied and retied the straps in the correct places. The reason why he called for her specifically was that he figured she’d know how to do this from her years of servitude at the palace. Before his banishment, before that fateful day. As thoughts of his family started to prod the strongholds of his mind, Prince Zuko didn’t see Lila peek up at him from the side of his shoulder until he heard her low voice fill the thick quiet of his room.

“What’re you going to do to them?”

Like an arrow, sharp and precise, prince Zuko’s stare shot to her own, making Lila’s eyes widened in surprise. She expected him to be looking straight ahead if he were to answer her.

Breaking eye contact with him, Lila looked down and closed her blinded eye desperately hoping he didn’t see it as she went to fix the strings behind him. Erratic. That’s how Lila’s heartbeat felt. But yes, Zuko fully saw the milky hue of her eye. He too had a similar reaction like the three men, but not one of distaste or disgust. Just surprise, but he soon discarded what the feeling once he processed what she asked.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern, servant.”

Cold with an edge of warning. That’s all Lila could sense wrapped around his heated words. Especially when he said her name. Now onto the left shoulder greave, Lila peeked at him again. He was looking straight ahead, his face taut with contemplation? Lila couldn’t tell. With a beat of hesitation, she licked her lips. She could already tell he was beginning to lose patience. If she were to say another word, she didn’t doubt he’d snap. Her brain was telling her not to say anything, she was walking on thin ice that was melting fast, but her mouth felt differently.

“May I speak Prince Zuko?”

“No, you may not. Finish fixing this and go. I don’t need to hear what you have to say,” Prince Zuko snapped in restraint.

All while arguing with herself, Lila moved to squat in front of him and began tying the laces of his shin guards. She did not want to witness another fire nation attack on any village again, especially when innocent people are involved. Though she felt if she were to talk out of turn, prince Zuko would surely lose his patience and probably punish her. Besides, what could someone like her do, realistically? No one has ever listened to her. She has no voice, but still. They are my people, too. I have to try.

Opening and closing her mouth Lila fought to push the words out.

“The water tribe did nothing-”

Unnaturally warm hands cut through her sentence and seized her wrists as she was forcefully pulled up from the floor and against Prince Zuko’s armor-clad form. Strands of curls unintentionally tangling in his grasp. Chest to chest, with Zuko holding her wrists and hair between them, he glared down at Lila. Fear radiated off her body in waves. She felt way too exposed without her eye patch and a dull ache throbbed from her finger when her hands bumped against his armor. White and brown eyes flickered between golden ones before looking around the room to avoid his stare, but to no avail. Calloused fingers laced with hair firmly, but not painfully, gripped her jaw turning her face to his, thumb pressing into her cheek.

Patience completely evaporated, Prince Zuko ground out, “I told you not to speak, didn’t I?”

With shuddering breaths and petrified eyes, Lila could only nod faintly. Paralyzed by his overwhelming build the words on her tongue melted, sliding down her throat. Releasing her jaw, Prince Zuko let go of her wrists, strands of hair snagging on his fingers as he dropped his hand. Lila winced from the sudden plucks of her curls. Shaking the hair off he rubbed the bridge of his nose, shut his weary eyes and sighed,

“Finish the last shin guard and leave.”

No reply came from the young girl as she dropped and tied the shin greave. A slight tremor in her hands. Once she was done she stood up with her head hanging low.

“I’ve finished Prince Zuko, do you require anything else before I go?”

“No.”

Long hair cascaded over her shoulders as Lila bowed. Rising back up she somehow managed to calmly exit the prince’s quarters, his eyes narrowing on her retreating form the whole time. With the loud thud of his metal door closing, both Lila and Prince Zuko let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding.

Lila had half a mind to go to uncle Iroh’s room and talk with him about what his nephew was planning to do. Talk with him about how the Prince was nothing like what Iroh describes him as but decided against it since he was most likely napping. It was hard for her to believe there was kindness in the Prince’s heart when all she’s ever seen from him was anger and rage. You could see his brutality and hate in the way he bended, too. Once she exited the command tower the sun was still hanging onto the horizon, waiting for someone to look at what it created, but a thick mist now covered the expanse of the water the ship navigated. When out of the blue, loud crackling emanated below the ship. Lila ran to the front and hunched over the edge of the railing to see what was going on.

Squinting through the mist, she saw the ship’s hull was no longer sailing on water but breaking and cracking through solid ice. Snapping her head up Lila saw the ground splitting toward the water tribe’s village! One large jagged fault traveling right through the middle of it. Prince Zuko’s ship rammed through the iced floor like it were a piece of paper. Lila couldn’t help but panic internally, they were coming extremely close to the water tribe!

“If this ship doesn’t stop we’re going to run right through!” she gasped in horror.

From what she could see in the vapory haze, the southern water tribe was quaint. A wall made of snow circled the tribe, acting as a barricade. Small igloos littered within. From behind, the sound of the Prince and his men’s shoes clanked across the deck toward the front of the ship, preparing to disembark. Anxiety, fear, and apprehension swirled within her. This scene hitting way too close to home for her liking. She never signed up for this, well she didn’t sign up for this at all, but still. The three years she’s been on this ship she never really thought about what capturing the avatar looked like or being there to see it. All Lila knew was she didn’t like where this was headed at all. The prospect of the past repeating itself right before her eyes scared her.

When she turned to watch them pass Lila’s eyes caught prince Zuko’s for a brief moment. Again, he found nervousness swimming in her stare, and again, he didn’t care.

Finally, the ship came to a halt with an ominous screech. Powerless, Lila watched with bated breath. Her eyes flitting between the native people down below and Prince Zuko’s men. She swore her heart was going to pop out of her chest from how hard it was pounding it almost hurt. Suddenly the hull of the ship dropped, turning into a makeshift ramp, a loud thud resonating in the air. The ship's metal easily overpowered the tribe's barrier, the snow crumbling as it gave into its weight.

Faintly Lila could hear a feminine voice yelling for someone to get out of the way. The shrill scream making Lila’s heart drop and then kick up in speed, assuming the worst. It felt like her feet were bolted to the floor as she helplessly watched the Prince and his firebenders disembark the ship. Visibly shaking, Lila leaned over the front of the ship again to see, legs feeling like they were going to give out any moment.

From her spot, she could see Prince Zuko and his guards disembarking and a young water tribe boy with war paint coating his tanned skin, belt out a war-like cry as he charged up the ramp at Prince Zuko. The boy’s weapon of choice, a water tribe club, raised high over his head. He was easily overtaken. Lila winced when the Prince’s leg side swept the boy's club out of his hand, then kicked him in the face, sending the boy flying off the side of the ramp and into the snow. Lila could hear Iroh’s voice in the back of her head talking about how he knew his nephew wasn’t as corrupted as his other family members, but what she was seeing now proved otherwise. He was unlike what Iroh always tried to tell her. The Prince was brutal.

Zuko continued walking down the ship as if nothing happened. His steps were powerful and determined. The people of the tribe huddled up in one big group, trepidation and terror embedded in all of their blue eyes. With the men of the village off to war, Zuko was unsurprised to see the ones that remained were the women and children, except for the war-painted boy if you’d count him as a man. However, the longer no one spoke the more time was wasted in capturing the Avatar. The silence was so tense Lila felt it up on the ship. Zuko stopped in front of the crowd, his eyes sizing up each woman and child until his glare stopped on this one girl holding onto the arm of an elderly lady.

“Where are you hiding him?”

When no one spoke, both Lila and the young girl gasped when the banished Prince roughly pulled the elderly lady from the girl’s grasp.

“He’d be about this age? Master of all four elements?” Zuko demanded, shaking the woman by her for emphasis.

Again, no one answered him, they were all stunned in silence and fright. After a beat of quiet, Prince Zuko carelessly shoves the old woman back into the young girl’s arms. Both water tribe women gasping. Lila watches worriedly, praying up above that this village will be spared from the fire nation’s fury. Even from the ship, Lila saw the Prince tense up in frustration and knew what he was going to do next and whispered “no,” as he launched a wave of fire inches above the villager's heads. The women and children screamed and cowered before him.

“I know you’re hiding him!”

Below her, Lila saw the water tribe boy free himself from the snowy confines he was kicked into, the majority of his face free of paint as he picked up his club and ran at Zuko once more with another loud battle cry. At the last second, Zuko turned toward the annoyingly loud boy and dodges the boy’s attack, flipping him over his head when he swiped at the Prince. When he hit the ground Zuko punched another blistering fireball at him. Luckily, the tanned boy gathers himself rolling away from the blast, swiftly retrieving a boomerang that was strapped to his back and throws it at the Fire Lord’s son. It surprised both Lila and Zuko with how fast and strong he threw it, the air whistling as it narrowly missed the Prince’s face. Even where Lila was standing the boomerang would’ve whacked her in the face if she didn’t duck in time. All the while her eye followed the boomerang’s path. The boy was stronger than he looked.

“Even without bending,” Lila hopefully thought, “he’s handling himself well against the Prince. Maybe…this village won’t be ransacked.”

A growl erupts from the Crown Prince’s throat before he can shoot more fire at the irritating boy who just won’t quit, a little water tribe child cries out,

“Show no fear!” Throwing a fishing spear made of bone at his opponent. Again, he charged at Zuko, the spear positioned like he was going to run him through, but the Prince was prepared. “He lacks training,” Zuko gathered, easily breaking the spear in half with his wrist guards. He then snatched the bone rod from the boy’s hands, poking him repeatedly in the head with the butt of it until he fell on his bottom, and broke it in half again before throwing it to the ground.

On the ship, Lila’s eye followed the boomerang as it curled back around and headed back to the owner who threw it. With her eyes still on the weapon, she gradually turned and watched it spin at dizzying speed before it slammed into the back of Prince Zuko’s helmet with a loud thwack. Her eyebrows quirked in surprise as she wondered if the water tribe boy planned for that to happen, but her face fell when she saw the Prince standing menacingly over the boy’s fallen form. Fire jet out from his tightly clenched fists, the orange embers creating a dagger-like weapon.  

For a moment, Lila feared for what Prince Zuko would do to him, but surprise quickly overtook her as another younger boy, maybe about twelve or so, with a bald head and peculiar clothing zoomed through the middle of the fight out of nowhere riding on the back of a penguin. In the child’s hands was a staff as the penguin flew right under Zuko’s feet, sweeping his legs out from under him. The young servant girl gasped when the Prince fell over, the village children cheering for the child all the while. The said child sped past the kids sending up a wave of snow splattering them all in the face, their cheers ceasing for a moment at the unexpected smattering, but continued yelling anyway. At this point, as much as Lila was concerned over the fate of the water tribe, she didn’t know if it was morally okay for her to laugh at the ridiculousness of what just happened.

Still, relief filled her heart knowing that Prince Zuko’s plan of capturing the Avatar wasn’t going according to plan. No village, town, citadel, or nation should be destroyed in finding the Avatar. Her heart and mind were conflicted. Although she did want the Prince’s banishment to end, she didn’t think this was the right way of doing it. She remembered the stories her father told her about Fire Lord Sozin killing all the airbenders to find and end the Avatar cycle.

Briefly, Lila faintly heard the kid happily greet the boy and girl, their names being ‘Katara’ and ‘Sokka’, with Sokka dryly thanking the child, who she heard him call ‘Aang’, for coming. Lila’s eyes flicker between Prince Zuko and Aang, both of them assuming a defensive fighting stance as Zuko’s men circle Aang, closing in on him. Suddenly the kid swings his staff, and with each swing, he sends snow at the guards blowing them away. With the Prince being the last one standing Aang sends another blast of snow at him, but he was unmoved, uncle Iroh’s firebending lessons paying off.

“Looking for me?”

Processing everything the child managed to do in under ten seconds, Lila’s brows furrowed. He managed to disarm and beat all of Prince Zuko’s men like it was nothing just by throwing snow at them. At first, she thought he was a waterbender but he didn’t move like one. His fighting style was different from what her mother tried to teach her and different from what she’s seen earthbenders and firebenders do. It was unlike anything she’s ever seen. On top of that, the arrow on his head and the unusual choice of clothing he wore was vastly unfamiliar from the clothes in her hometown and the fire nation. Her eyes widened in realization. No, this child couldn’t be- Prince Zuko voiced her incredulity, the snow Aang bent at him melting off his shoulders and fists, “You’re the airbender? You’re the Avatar?”

~

A/N: OKAYYYYY!!! Just so you know I want you guys to keep Zuko’s “Contemplation?” face in mind. There’s a few things I want you guys to catch in part 2. Sorry if it was slow paced. I hope you enjoyed it and please excuse any grammatical errors. Have a blessed day! Chapter three may come later cuz I have a zuko request I want to write!

Taglist (If i missed anyone PLEASE let me know :))

@bangtanboyswriting123 @bookedforevermore @agentsofblinks @lilmou5ie @eury-dice3 @shephard17895 @duh-dobrik @yourlivewire @luleck @oraclebirds

#zuko x reader #zuko x oc #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #Avatar The Last Airbender #zuko #prince zuko #fire lord zuko #atla zuko #atla fanfic #zuko fanfiction #zuko fanfic #zuko fic #avatar series #avatar fanfiction #atla sokka #atla aang #atla toph #atla katara #atla suki #uncle iroh #iroh and zuko #zuko and iroh #team avatar

[starrattlerofprydain]

The Other Girl (Ch. 2)

Summary: What if Roxas met Kairi during his days in the Organization?

AO3 / FF.net

Chapter 2: A Familiar Face (Previous/Next) “Come on, Kairi,” Selphie begged, pulling on the redhead’s wrist. “It’ll be just for today!”

Kairi gave her friend a hesitant look. It’s been a while since the girl had visited the small island where she and her friends always spent their days playing around. She loved it there. However, now that her two closest friends have gone away for some time, Kairi couldn’t help but spend her days waiting there for them to come back.

Day after day, she waited.

And waited.

But no one ever came.

Kairi did this for a while until one day, the memories of her these two friends began to slowly fade away. She could still remember their faces. She knew that there was a silver-haired boy.

Riku, was it? But… the other boy… why can’t I remember his name now?

She wasn’t sure if it was because she was tired after having many sleepless nights, but after spending much of her time waiting and trying to remember the things she had forgotten, Kairi thought it was best to stop going to the island, for her own sake. From there, she went on living her regular life. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she held on to a little bit of hope, knowing that she’ll be able to see those familiar faces again.

Which is why when Selphie tried to convince her to go on this particular day, Kairi felt her stomach flip all of a sudden. Part of her longed to go back, but she still wasn’t sure if it was a good idea.

“I don’t…” The redhead trailed off as she gave it some thought again. It didn’t help that her friend was rather convincing with the puppy-eyed face she was making.

Kairi managed to let out a small laugh at this before she finally ended up giving in. “Okay, fine. I guess it won’t hurt to go for a day.”

“Really?” Selphie’s face brightened as she took both of Kairi’s hands in hers. “Great! I’ll let Tidus and Wakka know so we can start heading over there!”

The redhead smiled at her friend’s enthusiasm, but deep down she hoped that she was making the right decision to go back after all this time.

-----------

“Hey! Wait up, Tidus!” The tall boy called out as he ran after his friend on the island.

The blond looked over his shoulder and laughed, not bothering to slow down. “Try to keep up!”

Behind them were the two girls just strolling by the shore. Normally, they would be spending this time having long conversations about anything and everything, all while enjoying the sights around the small island, but it was quiet between the two of them. Specifically on Kairi’s end, which began to worry Selphie.

“It’s nice to be back, isn’t it?” asked the brunette, in hopes of getting Kairi to speak.

The redhead gave her friend a small smile and shrugged. “I guess so...”

Selphie noticed how off she seemed and stopped walking, turning to look at her with concern. “Hey, is there something wrong?”

Kairi looked at her friend before glancing down to the sandy ground. “I’m fine. It’s just been a while since...”

The girl trailed off just as she noticed some movement from the corner of her left eye. She turned her head in that direction and saw something in black heading towards the secret place. Without hesitation, Kairi left her friend behind and ran after whatever this was. Her stomach flipped at that moment, just like how it did earlier that day as she wondered if there was someone else on the island.

She finally made it to the cave and took a quick glance around to see…

Nothing.

“Is someone there?” Kairi asked, even though she was certain she wouldn’t get a response. She wanted to take a better look around until Selphie called out to her. The redhead bit her lip in disappointment before she began to head out of the dark area. “I’m coming!”

Kairi emerged from the cave within a few moments to find her friend with a surprised look on her face. “What happened? You just ran off all of a sudden!”

A small laugh escaped Kairi’s lips, realizing she must have looked silly chasing after nothing. “Sorry… I thought I saw something.”

Or… someone, she thought.

-----------

After Roxas did what he could to complete his mission, he made his way over to Twilight Town as usual. There, up on the clock tower, waited his red-headed friend who he hadn’t seen since the day before.

“Heya, Roxas,” he greeted with two ice cream bars in his hand. “You made it just in time. Your ice cream’s starting to melt.”

“Oh…” Roxas took his seat next to him and took the ice cream, noticing it began to drip. The boy started to eat it up before it became a mess.

Axel took a bite of his own treat as he looked out at the horizon with a small smile. “So how’d you spend your day off?”

“Not wasting the day away sleeping like you,” Roxas chuckled.

The older Nobody scoffed, playfully shoving Roxas in the process. “Hey c’mon! It’s the least I can do for myself. Feels like it’s been ages since I got a decent amount of rest.”

“I guess so,” the blond shrugged, remembering he didn’t get around to doing much either. “I spent most of the day with Xion. I was hoping she would wake up in time so we can spend it together, but she never did. I guess she still hasn’t woken up today either since she’s not here…”

Roxas looked at his melting ice cream with despair. He was really starting to miss hearing her voice. Axel hesitantly rubbed his neck, noticing the look on his friend’s face

“Just give it some time. She’ll be fine. Before you know it, we’ll all be sitting here together again like the old times.”

“Yeah, I hope so…” Roxas mumbled, looking up at Axel who was now staring out ahead of him. The boy did the same, letting his mind wander.

“I went to a new world for today’s mission.”

“Oh yeah? Where to?”

“Destiny Islands. We promised to go to the beach there together someday, remember?”

Axel glanced over and chuckled softly, “Yeah, of course I remember. I don’t forget things so easily, y’know.”

“Right,” Roxas nodded, looking down to his ice cream. “It’s strange though. Something about that place felt familiar. Almost like I’ve been there or something…” the boy paused and turned to face his friend, “Do you think these are just memories from before I became a Nobody?”

Axel remained silent, recalling he had a similar conversation with Xion one time. Of course that place was going to be familiar to him. He was Sora’s Nobody, after all. He knew that much. He scratched his head and shrugged at Roxas’s question.

“That’s possible.”

“And there was also this girl there who looked a bit like Xion,” Roxas added, vaguely remembering the stranger. “I couldn’t tell for sure but… I just had a feeling.”

The redhead stayed silent again, losing himself in deep thought as a smirk formed on his lips. “A feeling, huh? Seems like you’re forgetting that Nobodies aren’t supposed to feel.”

Roxas can only shrug at this. “It’s just strange, that’s all. Maybe I’m just missing having Xion around.”

Axel lightly patted the boy’s back and chuckled. “You two just can’t stay apart, can you?”

Roxas gave his friend a small smile as he continued to finish up his ice cream. The two Nobodies sat there a while longer, appreciating the sights as they spoke about whatever came to mind before heading back to the castle after their long day.

-----------

Another day, another mission to complete. Today’s mission involved collecting hearts in Agrabah. Not only did Roxas have to deal with the blazing heat from that world, but he ended up getting paired up with Demyx this time around. It definitely wasn’t his favorite combo.

By the time they finished, Roxas had done most of the heart collecting, while Demyx spent most of his time complaining about the unbearable heat. Roxas might as well have been better off on his own on this mission.

“Man, I’m outta here,” Demyx whined as he opened up a dark corridor and disappeared within a matter of seconds.

“Yeah, thanks for nothing,” Roxas grumbled under his breath.

From there, he planned on heading to Twilight Town as usual, but then the thought of going back to Destiny Islands crossed his mind. He considered making a quick stop to pick up some seashells for Xion. And if it were possible, maybe he might see that girl again. But what were the chances of that happening?

Nevertheless, Roxas went through the dark corridor and headed off to his next destination. Eventually he was hit with a familiar sea breeze as he stepped out into the bright, tropical setting. The boy scanned the area before he began to make his way over to the shoreline.

It didn’t take him long to appreciate how peaceful it felt being there on the island. With the sound of the waves filling his ears and the salty breeze blowing through his hair, Roxas felt at ease. It gave him the same warm feeling as sitting up on the clock tower. He could now see why Xion liked coming here. Suddenly, his gaze fell down when he noticed a small object coming into view as the waves rolled out. Roxas bent down and picked up the object from the sand, smiling softly as he gazed at the familiar shape. 

A thalassa shell, similar to one of many seashells currently sitting beside Xion. But unlike the blue and yellow colors that he was used to seeing, this particular shell was a lighter combination of pink and yellow. He tucked it away in his pocket, unaware that someone had been watching him from a short distance.

-----------

It was the first time Kairi was glad her friends had been busy that day, since now it gave her the chance to go to the island on her own. She realized this might have been a bit selfish of her, especially after not going back for many weeks, even though Selphie suggested for them to go plenty of times. But a part of her told her to return as soon as possible. Like there must have been something waiting for her there.

Or someone, she reminded herself. Could it be her friends? The ones she’s been longing to see again?

Kairi soon arrived at the empty island, taking in the sights once more. It was bittersweet being there again. The girl truly missed it, but she knew there was a reason for not coming back. However, she tried to push those thoughts away for the time being.

Out of curiosity, Kairi walked over by the secret place, recalling what had happened the day before. She wasn’t seeing things… was she? She took a deep breath and made her way inside the cave again, only to see nothing unusual. It was still the same old cave she remembered from before. She glanced around, looking at all the chalk drawings surrounding the walls. From there, the redhead spotted a particular drawing. One that she hasn’t seen in a while ever since she stopped coming to the island.

It was a messy drawing of Kairi sharing a paopu fruit with someone special to her. Who this special someone was… well, she knew it had to be the boy she waited for all this time. At times it seemed his name would come to her mind, only for it to slip away again. And sometimes she would see a face, but it became too hazy to remember, almost like a dream. Kairi kneeled down as she stared at the drawing with a sad smile, wishing she could just remember his name and face. The only thing that kept her going was something about a promise they made.

“We made a promise, didn’t we?” She mumbled, pressing her hand up against the cold wall. “I know we did…”

Kairi kept her gaze on the drawing a while longer before she shook her head and stood back up, brushing off the dirt from her outfit. She took another brief look around before she decided to make her way back out of the cave.

As soon as her eyes adjusted to the sunlight, she immediately spotted someone by the shoreline. Someone with blond hair and a black coat. Then realization struck her. Maybe whatever she saw just the day before might have been whoever this was. But… who was this person anyway?

Kairi quietly watched him from a distance as he bent down, probably to pick up a seashell lying in the wet sand. He stood there examining it before tucking it in his coat.

He began to walk off until he suddenly noticed her presence.

And he froze.

And she froze as well.

Just as Kairi was about to approach him, he made a quick run for it, leaving the girl wide-eyed. Then, almost as if it were out of instinct, she quickly followed him.

“Wait! Don’t go!” She called out.

Roxas stopped in his tracks, unsure what to do. Though, he realized running away out in the open was probably a useless thing to do anyway. But he wanted to avoid being seen so he thought of the next best thing. Quickly, Roxas reached over his back and brought the hood of his coat over his head.

Kairi caught up to him, cautiously taking a few steps forward as she stared at the now hooded stranger. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

He turned around slightly, keeping his gaze low. “I’m just… visiting.”

“Oh, I see,” the girl slowly nodded, taking a step closer to him to get a better look at his face.  “By any chance, were you here yesterday too?”

Roxas noticed how much closer she got to him and took a small step back, lifting his head slightly to meet her eyes. And that’s when he realized…

She really does look like her...

Other than her auburn hair being slightly longer than Xion’s, he can definitely see a resemblance.

The redhead pouted and waved a hand in front of his face. “Hellooo? Are you there?”

Roxas snapped out of his thoughts and gazed back down to the sand, attempting to pull the hood further down his face.

Kairi raised a brow before laughing at whatever this boy was trying to do. At this rate, she gained more courage to take another step closer. With her hands behind her back, she lowered her head and peeked up at him with a grin. “I can still see you, you know.”

He sighed to himself and lifted his head as he listened to the girl giggle.

“Come on, let me just…” Without hesitation, she reached out and gradually pulled the hood off from his head, revealing his blond, spiky locks she saw moments ago. Finally, they were both able to see each other’s faces clearly. Roxas curiously stared at her for a long time and noticed she had been staring at him for a while too, almost as if she had been lost in thought, but he wasn’t too sure.

“What?” He questioned, snapping Kairi out of her thoughts.

It took her a moment to realize she was absentmindedly staring at the boy. She didn’t mean to, of course. But she couldn’t help but wonder...

I feel like I’m connected to him somehow… but I’m not sure why...

She shook her head and took a step back. “I’m sorry. Have we… met before?”

Roxas scratched his head, giving the girl a look of confusion. “I don’t think we have…?”

“Right… sorry,” she looked down and fiddled with her fingers. “It’s just… you remind me of someone I know.”

You remind me of someone I know…

Roxas repeated the words in his head. As if it wasn’t already strange enough that this person looked like his friend, apparently now Roxas had someone who looked like him as well. He was confused about whatever was going on, yet he couldn’t help but laugh about the whole situation.

Kairi looked at him, thinking she might have said something wrong. “What is it?”

“It’s weird…” he began as he rubbed his neck, “You remind me of someone I know too.”

The girl stood there in bewilderment before she found herself laughing as well. “That is pretty weird.”

She continued to laugh at this, causing Roxas to laugh along with her as well. It was strange how comfortable they both felt with each other at that moment. Once their laughter died down, the redhead realized she didn’t introduce herself yet.

“I’m Kairi, by the way.”

Kairi… have I heard that name once before...?

He brushed the thought aside and introduced himself as well. “I’m Roxas.”

The girl smiled and began to walk past him, her hands behind her back once more. “So… what brings you here, Roxas? Are you looking for seashells?”

“How’d you know?” His gaze followed her as she walked over to the shoreline. 

She turned back to look at him, the genuine smile never leaving her face. “I saw you picking something up from the sand a while ago. I figured it might have been that.”

Roxas went over to join her by the shoreline and scratched his head. “Well, yeah. It’s for my friend, actually. She hasn't been too well these past days.”

Suddenly, the smile on her face disappeared. “Oh… sorry about that. I hope she gets better.”

“Yeah…”

He stayed silent for a moment before pulling out the seashell he kept in his pocket. “She really likes these though. She brought some for me when I was a little unwell myself.” 

Kairi gave him a curious look. “Your friend was here too?”

Roxas nodded at her question, tucking the small object back in his pocket before realizing he lost track of time. Axel was probably waiting for him on the clock tower with his melting ice cream. “Uh… anyway, I should probably get going. I got some place to be.”

Kairi’s heart suddenly dropped just as he was about to walk off.

“Wait! Umm…” She reached out to grab him, only to retract her hand when he turned to face her with a surprised look. A small smile suddenly formed on the girl’s lips as she thought of an idea. “Tell you what… Why don’t you come back tomorrow? There’s something I wanna show you.”

“Okay…?” Roxas wasn’t sure how to respond to this, but he went along with it anyway. Whatever made her happy, he supposed. After all, he was now curious to get to know her more.

Kairi gave the boy a delighted smile when he agreed to return. Though, she noticed the confused look on his face and laughed softly.

“Trust me, I’m sure your friend would appreciate it.”

#kingdom hearts #roxas #xion #kairi #rokushi #rokukai #roxiri #*doesn't write for a whole year* #*suddenly whips all of this out of the blue* #niceeee

[lnarizakis]

thanks for the food! | m. osamu

masterlist | cards against humanity x haikyuu!!

pairing: miya osamu x gen!reader

foreword: this took so long for me to get out omg but i hope you enjoy!! 💕

look out for: manga spoilers

“sorry for staring, mister. it’s just that i ain’t ever seen ___ before.” + “soup that is too hot.”

“You know, you should really eat something other than cold take out and cup ramen.”

(Y/N)’s roommate Chiba Sumiko sighed, resting a hand on her forehead. She watched (Y/N) sitting at their small kitchen table, currently chowing down on a half-empty box of take out from last night’s dinner. Disappointment washed over her as they let crumbs fall from the corners of their mouth.

“But you know I’m broke—“ (Y/N), with food still lodged in their cheeks, started. As the words left their mouth, they knew what Sumiko—who had a part-time job—would counter.

“Let me treat you. No, I will treat you,” Sumiko decided, sitting down next to (Y/N). The scenario was similar to a father sitting his son down for “The Talk.” Though, in this case, it was Sumiko lecturing (Y/N) that as a college student they should take better care of their health. This included eating a proper meal; eating only take out and cup ramen was definitely not beneficial to her health. As someone studying health and nutrition, they should know better.

And so Sumiko and her boyfriend planned a date, with (Y/N) unfortunately tagging along as a third-wheel. They decided on Onigiri Miya, a tiny restaurant near their campus. It was a quaint little restaurant, and the owner had just recently released their new line of ramen soups. It had been very well-received by the general public, at least the ones who had come in to try it out. Based on those reviews and the fact that they had never eaten there before (Sumiko claimed they had to “expand their horizons,” whatever that meant), the three decided that that was the perfect place to have lunch tomorrow (specifically, at 3).

—

The next day, (Y/N) arrived at the restaurant a little bit later than the couple, not wanting to be the first person to arrive. As they entered the restaurant, the aroma of ramen broth, vegetables, and rice flowed into their nose; the overall atmosphere just felt warm. It was a homely environment, one that (Y/N) would want to visit time and time again. Small talk filled the air, and the one person behind the counter, currently brewing new broth for any incoming customers, casually talked with the patrons that sat around the table. (Y/N) could hear the faint sound of the television sitting in the corner of the restaurant, playing a rerun of a two-year-old volleyball game.

“Ah, welcome in,” the restaurant owner called out to the three, a faint smile on his face. He was, for lack of a better word, extremely hot. (Y/N) could feel a slight blush painting their cheeks, and that most likely wasn’t because of the warm air of the hot food that filled the room.

(Y/N) sat down at the counter along with Sumiko, who had suggested they do so, and her boyfriend. From behind the counter, the man rolled up his sleeves and crossed his arms, handing (Y/N) three plastic menus, which they were to pass along sideways.

Promptly, he said, “Just let me know when you guys are ready to order.” The man pushed a small bell towards them, wordlessly telling them to signal him when they were ready. He turned back to the broth on the stove, also tending to the noodles in a pot beside the broth. He sighed contently— this was the life. He could have never pictured himself playing volleyball beside his brother, who was currently on the television screen, silencing the jeering crowd.

(Y/N)’s eyes scrolled through the menu. What were they to order? There was an array of onigiri to choose from; after all, she was in an onigiri restaurant. However, their eyes drew themselves towards the listing of newly released ramen labels. Why not stick to something they were used to eating?

“(Y/N)-chan, what are you going to have? I’m gonna get the spicy salmon onigiri. The ‘lil picture they have for it on the menu makes it look so good,” Sumiko said. Her words caught the attention of the restaurant owner, stirring the broth absentmindedly, letting out a chuckle. Being the kind partner he was, Sumiko’s boyfriend was content with having her leftovers.

“I think I’ll have the tonkotsu ramen,” (Y/N) stated, still scanning through the menu, making sure there wasn’t something that caught their eye even more than the ramen did. Luckily, there wasn’t, however, so they folded the menu back up and placed it atop the other two menus that Sumiko and her boyfriend had finished using.

Sumiko lightly tapped the bell, and the man behind the counter promptly turned around to collect the menus and finalize what they were going to have.

“I’ll have the spicy salmon onigiri and,” Sumiko pointed to (Y/N), “they’ll have the tonkotsu ramen.” The man nodded.

“Ah, yes. Those are good choices. I know so because I‘m gonna cook ‘em,” the man flatly said, earning a laugh out of the three customers. He set the menus away and began to work on their orders.

—

“Your salmon onigiri,” he said, after some fifteen minutes later. Four onigiri stood proudly on the plate he was holding side-by-side, just waiting to be eaten. The rice was still steaming. He presented the plate to Sumiko and her boyfriend, with an astonished gasp at its delicious appearance. Onigiri Miya was renowned for their aesthetically pleasing food designs.

“Your tonkotsu ramen.” The man then presented the bowl of ramen towards (Y/N), pushing it towards them. The hot steam of it rose up into their face, warming it up. (Y/N) breathed in the aroma of the soup, taking in everything all at once; looking down at it, the soup itself was presented oh-so perfectly, from the cut hard-boiled egg to the seaweed stacked atop each other along the side of the bowl, slowly mixing in with the broth. (Y/N) was practically mesmerized— they hadn’t seen anything like it since... they don’t remember when.

After some time, the man asked with concern, “You good there? You’re starin’ off into the abyss of the bowl.”

“S-Sorry for staring, mister. It’s just that I ain’t ever seen soup that is too hot before,” (Y/N) stuttered. Well, of course they had seen soup that is hot before. They mentally face-palmed themself. To their surprise, however, he laughed. Resting his (notably muscular) arms on the counter some distance away from where (Y/N) had set their phone down to eat, he had his full attention on (Y/N), smiling at them.

“That’s not what I meant. Y’see, I’ve been a little... not eatin’ properly. Simply put,” (Y/N) corrected themself. Taking the chopsticks into their hand, they began eating, looking down in embarrassment.

“Nah, I get it. My brother’s like that. Or, well, he was, in high school,” the man said. “His name’s Atsumu,” he continued, as he pointed to the screen, which currently displayed Atsumu setting for his teammate. The two of them watched the screen until the play ended. Atsumu’s team won the rally, earning them their point. His twin brother in front of (Y/N) pumped his fist, quietly cheering for Atsumu, even though he knew the outcome of the match. It was a two-year-old game, after all.

“I’m Osamu.” Gray eyes glanced over in (Y/N)’s direction, who was taken aback by the sudden introduction.

“Ah, uh, I’m (L/N) (Y/N),” they said, with a half-full mouth of food. Setting down their chopsticks, they wiped their mouth with a napkin. The ramen was so good, so warm, and just so affectionately cooked that (Y/N) gave up all their cares to messily eat the food in front of them.

“I can see you’re enjoyin’ it, (L/N)-han. I’m glad it’s that good.” Osamu watched (Y/N) enjoy the bowl in front of them. Their hunger was akin to his brother’s hunger to improve in volleyball. He felt a pang of familiarity in his chest.

“I love it, Miya-han. What do ya think, Sumiko-chan? How’s it for you?” (Y/N) turned their head towards the girl, taking her time with every bite of her onigiri. Her boyfriend held his own in his hands, ravishing down on it. His cheeks were red due to the warmth of the food. Sumiko turned towards (Y/N), smiling. She gave a thumbs up, a sign of her satisfaction. (Y/N) returned their own small smile.

“Looks like we’re all happy, Miya-han. Thanks for the food.” (Y/N) continued to eat, and Osamu departed from the counter.

—

“That was really good!” Sumiko exclaimed, walking out of the tiny restaurant. “We should go there again someday!” The two others beside her agreed.

(Y/N) shoved their hands into the pockets of their jacket. It was quite cold—colder than usual, at least—for a January afternoon. Though, the pockets of their jacket seemed to be emptier than normal. But (Y/N) paid no attention to that.

“Anyways, (Y/N), don’t you think that store owner was cute? I sure think he was. But you’re cuter, Ichiro, don’t worry.” Sumiko turned towards her boyfriend, giving her a small smile in return. Aw. Their relationship was so cute. (Y/N) wished they had a relationship at least a fraction as affectionate as theirs.

“Yeah, he was pretty cute, I guess,” (Y/N) started, drawing out their words. Though, they didn’t really know how to put it all together; there was just something about him that made them long for his affection (they didn’t know it at the time, but it was definitely his cooking). They hummed, trying to piece together what they were trying to say.

(Y/N)’s roommate looked on in curiosity. “Is there somethin’ wrong? Can ya feel your heartstrings tugging? Is this the sign of true love?” Ever the romantic she was. She’d been rooting for (Y/N) to find their one-and-only since the beginning of their first year of graduate school. Ever the supportive friend she was, as well.

“Agh, I’m just— I just can’t believe how much I stuttered around him... and ate so messily in front of him, too, and—“ (Y/N) sighed. Sumiko clasped a hand on their shoulder.

“It’s alright, (Y/N); you hit it off greatly with him! Didn’t you see it? He definitely did. I mean— the longing look in his eyes while he was talking to you was phenomenal! Ichiro, why don’t you look at me the way—“ Sumiko’s scold was cut short by a familiar voice calling out from behind them. It was Osamu. He held (Y/N)’s phone in his hands, as he made his way towards them. Ah, so that was why their pocket felt slightly emptier than usual.

“(L/N)-san. You, uh... you forgot this,” Osamu said, looking down at the phone. (Y/N) held out their hand, as he gave them back their phone using both of his hands.

“Oh, thank you, Miya-han,” (Y/N) replied with a little more fluster than they had before.

As they put their phone back in their pocket, Osamu whispered something under his breath, just barely audible. (Y/N) asked him to repeat what he had just said.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he started, “but I added my number to your phone.” (Y/N) smiled, their cheeks reddening—totally because of the cold January weather (yep, totally).

“No, I don’t mind at all. Let’s talk more often, and maybe you can cook something else for me as well.”

—

cheese + general taglist (you can ask to be removed 🌝): @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @mlkytobio @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @shishinoya @ushiwakaa @from-left-to-write @akaashit-baeji @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi @hanibuni @cupofkenma @kawanisshi @milkandc00kiez @thiccbokuto @shinsukestan @sufiawrites @wakaitoshi @skyguy-peach @fern-writes-ig @briswriting @airybby @kawaiikraykray @bubbleteaa @miyuswriting @raevaioli @ouikarwa @hakueishirei @pineapplekween @estherwritess @keiji-n @achoohq @bbytenma

#haikyuuwritersnet #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #title was almost ramen rush #cadekagi

[writersrealmbts]

Con Amore: Part 15

Bulletproof Melody Sequel

Description: Con Amore– A directive to a musician to perform a selected passage of a composition tenderly, with affectionate emotion, or in a loving manner; an instruction to the player of an instrument meaning ‘with love’ or ‘lovingly’. Three years with all seven of your loves, three years of relative peace. But now everything is threatened as darkness surges from the horizon.

Originally Posted: 05/28/2020

Tags: Superheroes, Ot7

Fluff/Angst: 2,035 words

A/N: One more part after this, then we’re done. Promise.

They were an odd group, but they worked together brilliantly. Sometimes, they reminded you of your boys.

Yeonjun cracked some corny jokes now and then that reminded you of Seokjin, but could also be as serious as Hoseok.

Huening-Kai had a tendency to pull the maknae card like Jungkook, and the enthusiasm that Taehyung got when excited.

Soobin would get embarrassed and melt a little like Jimin, or sometimes like Namjoon.

Beomgyu was absolutely as snarky as Jimin.

Taehyun’s attention to fashion which reminded you of Namjoon mostly, but also Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok.

“Do you think they would train us if we asked?” Beomgyu asked quietly, a change from his usual talkative self.

You paused, then kept stringing the dried peels, berries, and popcorn. “Yes. I do think they would. As long as you showed that you were willing to learn.”

“They’re the coolest,” Yeonjun said, awe in his voice. “Whenever we heard about them at the temple, Taehyun, Huening, and I would then go and look for every video and article on it we could find on the library computer. They’re so well trained and they work so well together.”

You smiled a little. “I don’t know that they would be able to help you all train your powers. There are similarities with some of your powers and theirs, but there are also differences.”

“But they’ve worked this long in working together despite differences in their powers,” Taehyun countered. “We have a lot to learn about working together.”

You nodded slowly. “That’s true. They are exceptional when it comes to teamwork. They’re a family, but they also have a heirarchy. They know who is calling the shots. They have a specific purpose that they are devoted to.”

“You?” Beomgyu guessed, grinning and ducking when you threw popcorn at him.

“No, you imp. They want a world that’s better than the one they were born into. They were best suited to fighting those who would tear the world down to make it their own. Trying to make life better for supers like you boys,” You said softly, reaching over to push Huening’s hair from his eyes so he could actually see what he was doing.

Soobin nodded. “And what do you focus on?”

“The little things,” You answered, pulling a clip from one of your non-archive storage spaces and pulling Huening Kai’s hair away from his face. “Small robberies, hostage situations now and then, children, children’s homes. As Nightingale, anyway. But as an archivist…the scope of my job varies greatly from day to day. The overlap is very present though, which makes what I do a little more fulfilling than just…collecting things that will collect dust while staying a safe distance from the world.”

Beomgyu set a snack beside you just as you were thinking you should get one. “But…you’re known for being a fighter. I mean, you practically died to save the town. They built a monument to you.”

You shrugged. “The memories of the populace are short-lived. So distracted by every new thing, attention spans shortened by the speed with which needs are satisfied. It was the first big fight I’d ever participated in. And I…wasn’t exactly alive when they got me to the hospital. I had to leave for a while after that, I stopped by the temple for a little bit to be healed completely, then I went and just did my job as an archivist. Laying low.”

“Because it was your family,” Taehyun said, then his eyes widened. “Sorry, I—”

“Relax, Taehyun, it’s okay. I know you don’t purposely pry into my life.” You rested a hand on your stomach where the baby was pushing their little foot out, quickly reaching over and grabbing Yeonjun’s hand to guide it there since he was the only one who hadn’t been able to feel the baby so far. It usually pulled away just before he got to feel it, and lately it had been a little less active. Still moving, but not trying to push it’s foot into your lungs or kick your ribs.

His eyes were huge. “She’s really sticking it out there.”

“He,” Huening Kai countered playfully, not willing to let his hyung have the satisfaction.

“It’s a girl,” Yeonjun scoffed.

“Boy,” Taehyun immediately argued, tossing a piece of popcorn at the eldest.

You rolled your eyes. “Boys, at this rate, we’ll never have the tree decorated and I’ll have to cancel Christmas.”

Beomgyu and Soobin’s eyes got huge and they quickly shushed the other three who weren’t completely ready to give up—especially Huening Kai.

Until Soobin pointed at him and directly sent a wave of peace into him, then did the same with the other two. “String the popcorn.”

“Yeah, I’m not missing my first Christmas just because you guys were fighting,” Beomgyu added sternly. He set more supplies in front of them, then continued cutting the dried orange peels into stars.

The other boys quickly set back to work.

You laughed softly. “I wouldn’t actually cancel Christmas, you know that, right?”

“Not worth the risk,” Soobin said, waving a hand to dismiss it.

You shook your head, still smiling. They were adorable, and you doted on them more than you expected to. Part of you blamed the hormones, but you also knew it was because they were so young, and because they had all been through a lot in their lives. You’d doted on Soobin before all of this, but now you were seeing him grow with these other boys.

Made you feel old, and you really weren’t that old.

Huening Kai was just a baby, too. A cutie-pie who needed to be protected at all costs.

They all were, really.

Beomgyu looked at you strangely. “Are you okay? I’m sensing something…weird.”

“I’m fine?” You answered, shrugging. You picked at the snack, looking over the garland before tying it off. “Soobin, go put this on the tree.”

He got up and took it, pausing.

“Start from the top, wrap it around in a way the looks pretty, working toward the bottom and keeping in mind that there will be a few more strands.” You scrunched your nose as a sort of tightness   pressed on your stomach.

Huening Kai was trying to remember the words to a Christmas song, debating with Yeonjun playfully until you went to get your songbook to settle the matter since they were just making it worse.

You got up slowly, wincing a little. Your ankles were swollen and your feet hurt. So did your back. You’d been doing easy exercises to strengthen your body as the pregnancy progressed, but it still didn’t do much to help since the doctor you were seeing in the town nearby had told you to take it easy. You weren’t strictly on bed-rest, but she wanted you to act as much like you were as possible, and the boys had been making sure you obeyed.

You found the book, but instead of going out, you stared at the book, looking at the doodle Jimin had drawn on the front.

He had been teasing you, mostly because he knew what you had gotten Tae for Christmas, while he had been hand-drawing cards for the other boys and his marker had slipped onto the book he was using as a hard surface—your Christmas music. So, to make it up to you, he had turned the mark into a cute little snowman.

That was the year that you had gotten Yeontan for Taehyung.

You missed the domesticity of your life with the boys. You wanted them here.

You wanted them freaking out when they felt the baby kick for the first time, or staring at the ultrasound and asking you what was what again and again. Freaking out if you so much as got out of bed when they weren’t sure if you were supposed to or not. Reading the books with you, freaking out when you made them find out exactly what happens during birth. Fighting over who would get to be with you during the birth of the baby. How they would handle the hospital.

But that wasn’t possible.

“Y/n!” Soobin called, sounding alarmed.

Then Beomgyu hurried in. “There’s a group approaching, Hueningkai says they’re armed.”

“Okay, remember the plan. Stick to the plan.” You tossed aside the book, running through your repertoire of songs that wouldn’t accidentally harm the boys while you were trying to help keep them safe. Your powers were somewhat unpredictable lately, so you had to play it as safely as possible.

“Y/n, I don’t think you should,” Beomgyu said, grabbing your arm. “You’re health is different than even earlier this morning. Please just let us take care of you. I know it’s not in your nature, but it’s necessary. This is why we’re here, isn’t it?”

You slowly nodded, then stepped back. “Alright. But I’m establishing the communication network.”

Beomgyu nodded.

You hummed the song you’d come up with a couple weeks ago, which melded the various powers of you and the boys to form a sort of mental communication to each other. It was the safest song you had right now. “Update.”

“Four men to the south, three to the west, two to the east,” Hueningkai said.

“I’ll get the ones on the south,” Yeonjun said. “Blind the ones to the west.”

“I’ve got the ones to the east,” Soobin told them. “Hold until we know their intentions.”

You nodded, silently agreeing with Soobin’s assessment.

Beomgyu sat beside you, listening to the boys call out their positions. ��We’ll be okay, y/n. Try to relax.”

You glanced at him, but mostly were focusing on sensing out there. The foreign melodies. The inclination toward major or minor melodies and the dissonant or harmonic chords, how it all fit together. “Be ready. They sound more hostile.”

“We’re ready,” Taehyun said. “I’ve got eyes on all of you. Yeonjun, Huening, try to increase the snow-fall to inhibit them more.”

“Got it.”

“Good idea.”

You froze as a foreign feeling washed over you.

Beomgyu looked at you in alarm.

“Boys, maybe put a rush on that,” You told them, getting up and grabbing the go-bag.

“What? Why?” Yeonjun asked.

“My water just broke. We’re going to the hospital.”

“So…loud and messy is okay as long as it’s quick?” Yeonjun asked, sounding a little freaked out.

“Anything to make sure the house is safe and no one follows us to the hospital,” You replied, voice a little sing-song in alarm.

Beomgyu grabbed the other bag and led the way to the garage. “Just do it. She’s a month early and I was right about the contractions.”

Your eyes widened when you heard a crash outside, followed by some screams of terror.

“Okay, just need to bury these guys and then the way is clear.”

Beomgyu shared a scared look with you.

Soobin darted in and hopped into the driver’s seat. “Clear the snow and ice from the roads?”

“Got it, rest of us our outside.”

You held onto the door handle as another contraction came through. “Hurry.” Your eyes filled with tears, and right then, all you wanted was one of your loves. Holding your hand.

But you didn’t get to have that. Not yet.

Beomgyu took your other hand as the other boys hopped into the vehicle. “It’s okay. Just breathe and try to stay calm. Do you want us to contact them?”

“No. It’s too dangerous,” You whispered. “Just keep my baby safe.”

He nodded. “Nothing will happen to the baby. I’m going to be with you and nothing will happen to either of you.”

You rested your other hand on your stomach.

“Soobin-hyung—”

“Got it,” He answered, then an overwhelming sense of peace washed over you. Almost like when Namjoon would use his confession inducement-type power. This was, admittedly, more agreeable.

“Taehyun, Hueningkai and I will set ourselves up around the perimeter and keep an eye out for trouble. Beomgyu will be with you, and Soobin will guard the waiting room. It’s the best we can do at the hospital.”

“I know. Thank you.”

~~~~

Part 14.   Part 16/Final.

Masterlist.  ~  Series Masterpost.  

Tagging: @ephemeral-mindset​, @alex–awesome–22​, @bryvada​, @missmoxxiesworld​, @knjhe, @i-dont-even-know-fck

#bts x reader #bts fic #tomorrow x together #Superhero!AU #superhero au #choi yeonjun #choi soobin #choi beomgyu #kang taehyun #hueningkai #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #Jung HoSeok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts #bulletproofmelodysuperherobtsfic #BulletproofMelodyFic #con amore fic #con amore sequel fic

[theresnourieandme]

Some things are meant to be.

A/N: hey everybody! I'm back. So, this is my first Ambi so don't judge XD. First part of a three shots called "Can't help falling in love". Also, happy birthday Andi <3

dedicated to: @heart-eyes-kippen

Andi would have given anything to avoid accompanying him. To avoid accompanying TJ on that date of his, which he's been talking about continuously for a week now. Instead, she was there, with her hands on the steering wheel watching the road, while her best friend was giving her directions to the new diner, where the aforementioned appointment would be held.

"Turn right," TJ said next to her, his eyes on his smartphone screen. His hair was gel-free after a long time - and honestly Andi thought it was better that way - and his athletic physique was perfectly wrapped in jeans and a simple blue shirt, never used.

"TJ, for the thousandth time: I know where it is." The notes of 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun' began to fill the passenger compartment and Andi began tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for the traffic light to turn green. TJ gave her such a worried look that it made her worry - she had never seen him like that. "What's going on?" she asked then, lowering the volume of the radio.

Andi didn't need any answers, though. She had known TJ since they were children, and one of the things she was certain of was his body language. When he had a gigantic crush on someone, he always tried to touch their hand, or hug them for no apparent reason. When he was very nervous, the nerves in his shoulders stiffened and his breathing was slower and heavier. And now his shoulders were strained, his breath irregular.

"The appointment could go wrong," muttered TJ, so softly that Andi could barely hear him. " What if it's really bad?" he continued, slightly louder.

Andi smiled at him for a moment before returning her attention to the busy road. "It will be fine, you'll see. I don't know..." She stopped talking, gesturing for a moment in search of his name, which went out of her head.

"Cyrus," TJ completed, hinting at a smile pulled by the grimace painted on his friend's face.

"I don't know Cyrus," she said. "but I'm sure he's a very special guy and he's really very lucky to go out with you."

TJ smiled through the window reflection, his eyes pointed at the sidewalk chalk darting to their right. "Thank you," he said softly. Andi knew it was very important for TJ to feel comfortable, and she would do anything to make him happy, even punch a Reed with a gun.

The diner's sign, the Spoon, appeared in front of them, and TJ settled in the seat. Andi tried to calm him down with some pats on his shoulder, but almost without success. When they were close enough, TJ asked her to pull over, and when she shut down the engine, he breathed out an agitated sigh. "How do I look?" he asked.

The moor glanced at him with a smug look. "Decent," she said, trying to sound as casual as possible. TJ was visibly unhappy with that answer, and Andi smiled softly. "If you only knew how beautiful you are..." she corrected herself then.

He smiled and was about to get out before stopping and glancing at her gratefully. "Thank you," he said, in a more serious tone.

Andi raised both thumbs in his direction with a smile. He got out of the car, still hesitant but certainly less agitated than he was a few minutes before. He closed the door with a small thud and Andi watched him approach the diner and enter.

She breathed a sigh of relief, finally free from TJ's anxiety. In fact, she was still very worried about her friend's date, but she was confident about the idea of Cyrus that she had been making up in her mind that week.

When she left for Buffy's house, the sky was fading from a bright red at the horizon to a light orange, to a light blue that looked timidly on blue. Cars were flowing slowly down the lane, and Andi found herself bottled in her small personal traffic, which seemed to follow her wherever she went. She then took advantage of the situation by taking a peek at her phone screen.

Sk8r boi <33: the appointment is going great! and Cyrus complimented me for the shirt uwu <3

Andi smiled at the message and responded, taking a quick glance at the still-standing cars in front of her. "Then he has good taste ;D" answered, writing with one hand.

Party queen <33: where are you?

"In traffic -_-" she replied. Her eyebrows frowned slightly when she noticed a message from Jonah, who she hadn't heard in a while.

beef <3: Hey, andiman, I have a person to introduce you to.

Andi replied that she was supposed to meet with Buffy, but that they had no specific plans. Jonah, as usual, answered her in a second.

beef <3: Well, let's meet at the music store!

Finally, the cars in line began to move and Andi was able to get rid of the traffic. She stopped the car in front of her best friend's house, got off quickly and rang the doorbell. A Buffy in a basketball tracksuit opened her the door with a smile and invited her in.

"Let's go to the music store," Andi said.

Buffy frowned. "Why?"

Andi twisted her hands. "Jonah invited us."

"Come on, don't tell me you feel something for him again!" exclaimed Buffy, walking away from the door to head to the room to change.

Andi walked in without giving too much notice - only because she had known Buffy for twelve years, and they shared pretty much everything - and she closed the door behind her. She followed her friend to the blue-walled room, only to stop at the doorway. "No!" she exclaimed then, leaning on the jamb. "We haven't seen him in a long time, and he told me he wants to introduce me to someone."

Although Buffy turned around and shrugged her shoulders as she opted for a pair of denim jeans and a short, pink long-sleeved sweatshirt, Andi was able to imagine her rolling her eyes. "When will you realize it's just an excuse to see you?"

"What's wrong with that? Now we hardly ever see each other since he signed that contract with the record company, and it shouldn't be a problem to see us as friends. Friends, and nothing more."

"If you say so," Buffy concluded with a sigh. Then she turned to her and changed the topic in a second. She kept the outfit she had chosen for the hangers and held it on her as if she were wearing it. "What do you think?"

"Since when do you really care of what you wear?" Buffy frowned slightly, hinting at a bold smile, while Andi rethought Buffy's behavior over time and in various situations. "Oh, yes! When there's a boy!" she exclaimed shortly afterwards. Buffy avoided looking her in the eye, and that was the definitive confirmation of Andi's theory. "Ah-ah! What's his name? Is he our age? Do I know him?" asked Andi, trying to breathe in the meantime. "Does he play basketball? Is he friends with TJ? How did you meet him?"

"Do you want me to answer all the questions?"

"I know you remember them, so... Yes, please."

Buffy sighed and sat on the bed, abandoning her clothes and losing all the interest she could have towards them. "Marty, he's our age, you don't know him, he doesn't play basketball and he's not friends with TJ. I've met him around."

"'Around' sounds a little vague, huh?"

Buffy hinted at a smile and rolled her eyes. "At the studio."

"The dance one?!" asked Andi, puzzled, settling on the bed next to her friend. She'd never heard of a guy at Buffy's studio, but maybe he was a new entry.

"He doesn't dance," Buffy added, predicting her friend's question. "He's our new photographer."

"The photographer, huh?" asked Andi, raising her eyebrows and elbowing Buffy, sitting next to her.

She smiled and got up. "Shall we go?"

-

When the music store bell rang over their heads, Andi noticed Jonah among the people still walking around the store. Her father greeted her with a smile behind the counter as he spoke to some customers, and also greeted Buffy with a hand gesture.

Jonah was sitting on one of the sofas, talking to a blonde girl, long hair gathered in a half-chignon. The movements were graceful and all of her indicated a good education and perfect parents. The posture was impeccably straight, and the legs crumpled gently were smooth and well-groomed. A short peach dress that fell to her knees wrapped her slender body, illuminating her fairly light complexion. Two parallel black bands brought out her breasts, slightly visible from her heart-shaped neckline. Everything about her made Andi ashamed of those miserable jeans, accompanied by a striped short-sleeved shirt, which she chose to go out that night.

Only when they approached, Andi also noticed the blue and clear eyes like the sky of a beautiful summer morning, and the impeccable makeup of a light pink, that matched the dress.

"Hey, Andi! Buffy!" exclaimed Jonah, rising to his feet. He had grown a lot since they had last seen each other and if you could have called him cute before, he was now gorgeous to say the least: the face was cleaner, and less childish; the hair pulled up with the gel was the same length, but seemed more natural. The style was more or less always the same as the younger Jonah Beck, but much more sophisticated. In fact, the jeans were tighter, and the white background shirt featured the cover of the most famous Rolling Stones album. "How are you?" he asked, after hugging both of them.

"Well, I'd say. The season is about to begin and I hope to win this one too," Buffy boasted at that point.

Jonah chuckled, perhaps thinking back to all the times he had been beaten by Buffy in a sport. "I understand. Last season I came to see you once or twice and you were fantastic!"

"The album, on the other hand? I know the first one will come out soon," Andi said, just to secure herself a place in the conversation.

Jonah shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think I can reveal much by contract, but I can assure you that there are both moments when I have felt something," he joked, in memory of her old joke made in his presence.

Buffy and Andi chuckled, and all three of them sat down, who in the armchairs, who on the couch next to the beautiful stranger.

"Um, I don't think I know you," Buffy pointed out, addressing the blonde in front of her. "I'm Buffy Driscoll."

"Amber," she said, holding out her hand. Buffy squeezed it and Andi did the same immediately after.

"Andi Mack, nice to meet you," she added with a smile. Perhaps it was an impression of her, but their handshake lasted slightly longer than expected, and even the blonde's gaze remained on her for too long before moving towards Buffy.

"You play basketball, if I understood correctly." Buffy frowned, and Amber gestured gracefully toward Jonah. "Jonah often talks about all of you."

Buffy nodded. "Yes, I'm on a girls' team."

"She played with TJ," Jonah added soon after. "and she entered Jefferson's history as the first girl on the boys' basketball team and as the founder and coach of the girls' team."

Andi knew Buffy so well that she would bet everything on the fact that her friend was blushing for flattery now, but none of the presents seemed to notice. "And you, on the other hand? What do you do in your life? And how do you know Jonah?" asked Buffy to Amber.

"We were together for a while, but we were friends even after the breakup. Let's just say I'm her make-up artist for concerts and interviews."

"Oh, a make-up artist!" exclaimed Andi at that time, before Buffy could ask more questions. "My mother is, too. She owns Cloud Ten."

"Uh, I know that place!" she exclaimed, digging her legs and assuming a more decomposed posture. "That's where I get the makeup products. Congratulations to your mother, her products are great!"

She blushed slightly, and said she would deliver the message. Luckily, Jonah spoke. "Andi, have you received any offers? I turned over the link of your video to my manager, but he didn't let me know anything anymore."

She shook her head in response and then added that no, she had not yet been contacted by anyone, but that she had now reached one million views on YouTube.

"It's docious-magocious!" exclaimed Jonah, perhaps reflexively.

Buffy burst out laughing loudly, so loud that many in the store turned to throw glances of disapproval. "Sorry," he said through tears, when she finished laughing. "It was so much that I didn't hear that expression, and it made me a strange effect."

"Um, we noticed," Andi replied wryly, to which Buffy glanced at her as if to say 'Really, Andi? Is that what you wanna say after docious-magocious?'.

"Buffy, can I talk to you in private?" asked Jonah at that point, perhaps trying to get Andi out of trouble.

"Yes, but if it's Natalie, I don't want to know what happened to her."

"It's Natalie, but nothing happened to her."

Buffy rolled her eyes and left the place near Andi empty. Before she left, taken by her wrist by Jonah, she pointed her finger at Andi and said, "It's not over, Mack!"

Amber smiled at her. "Anyway."

Andi settled down well to look at those blue, almost hypnotic eyes. Not knowing how well it would end, she smiled back. "Anyway."

#andi mack #ambi #happy birthday andi mack #happy birthday #amber kippen #andi #i love them uwu #theresnourieandme ff #can't help falling in love

[greenlightfic]

Everything I know tells me I should walk away but I just want to stay

 Monday 20:05 – March 16, 2020 – It’ll be alright

 When the villa boys became official members of the group they were welcomed with a few rules: to always have each other back; to intervene if it’s to help, even if the other might get mad and, most important, when Elia cooks, no one bothers him. So Edoardo’s taken aback when Elia’s looking at him after he closes the refrigerator.

“You know” he starts drying his hands with the dishcloth, “I’m not usually jealous” Edoardo has no idea where he’s going with this. So, he rests his body against the fridge, waiting for him to continue, “but my boyfriend has been asking me about you for the last two days”. Elia gives him a knowing look, as if Edoardo should be aware of the reasons behind Filippo sudden interest on him.

“I won’t try to steal him. I promise” he chuckles, walking towards Elia who makes an offended face “he won’t let you and neither would I” they both laughs and Elia takes the beer from Edo’s hands to drink it himself. “But really, he asked me everything. Since your major to your zodiac sing”.

“You know my zodiac sing?” he rests his hips against the counter.

“No! But I told him your birthday and he figured it out” he smiles to himself, probably remembering something, a moment that belongs to Filippo and him, “He’s into that kind of stuff”.

“Good to know” Edo has no idea what to say.

A tense silence settles between them and Elia returns him his beer.

“He’s not like creepy or anything. I swear” he’s looking at the floor “but he and Ele… they’re everything the other had always had and he’s just worried” Elia looks up and he nods in silence. Edoardo never asked Eleonora about her parents but now it hit him, she never talked about them, as least no that he remembered.

“We’re just friends” he clarifies once again.

“I know you picked her up, at 2am”. Elia points out tilting his head.

“I’d woken up on the middle of the night for the boys a thousand times. You never did it?” Elia’ silent, looking at his shoes and Edoardo knows what he’s thinking because he’s thinking the same. That night back in October when the contrabbandieri had just started college and Edo didn’t like them yet. He and Federico had finally got a night with Nico and just Nico. Everything was great, they were having fun and decided to play that stupid board game that got Nico really frustrated and his frustration rapidly escalated into sadness and Nico felt so bad, out of nowhere, that they didn’t know what to do. So, he called Marti, who showed up ten minutes after with his three best friends, all wearing their coats over their pajamas and stayed there until Marti helped Nico to sleep and even after that, to be sure, they said, the boys stayed the night and slept on the floor. Just for Nico.

No one ever talked about it again but after that improvised sleepover the villa boys were welcomed as one of them.

“Ele and I are friends” Edoardo speaks low, trying to get Elia attention back, “there’s nothing else going on. I promise” he looks at him in the eyes.

Elia smiles, full open mouth, “so as you know,” he holds up a finger “you would have my blessing”. Edo mirrors his smile. “Thanks, man” he says and gets a slide of tomato from the countertop they were just reclining against. Elia hits his hand, forcing him to let the tomato back in it place and Edoardo chuckles.

“Since when you accept assistance?” a voice asks from the kitchen door.

“I make exceptions sometimes” Elia shrugs and Giovanni smile at both of them. “Do you need another pair of hands?

“I don’t need other hands, you two can sit and watch” Elia says shoving Edoardo to Gio’s direction. Edo laughs and take a chair from the small circular table on the middle of the room and offered to Giovanni, taking another one for him.

 Wednesday 15:00 – March 18, 2020 – I wonder what’s on your mind

 Edoardo has one more thing to do and then he can go home. He needs a specific book to complete his essay for International Economy, he will take it from the campus’s library, he’ll go buy some groceries and he’ll head home. That’s the plan. It’s an easy plan that it’s throws out of the window the moment he sees a familiar face angrily making it ways out of the library.

“What happened to you in there?” he surprises Eleonora who was too busy fixing her cardigan to noticed him approaching her. She scoffs and fixes her hair before looking at Edoardo’s face.

“I hate group projects” she says emphasizing the word “hate” and letting her arms fall to her sides on a sing of surrender.

“We all do” Edo nods grinning.

“Can we go get coffee, or something? My head’s about to explode” she’s pouting with narrowed eyes.

“Sure” Edoardo agrees too fast. “I just need to get a book from in there and we can go” he adds nodding to the library.

“You go” Ele says waving him away. “If I get in there again, I’ll literally die”.

“I think you’re misunderstanding the meaning of the world ‘literally’ he teases, already opening the heavy glass door, when it’s closed, he sees her making a face.

 Wednesday 15:31 – March 18, 2020 – I see there’s something you’re trying to hide

“What are you doing?” Eleonora asks, chin up, looking at him in the eyes.

“Paying?” he asks confused, wallet half opened.

“You paid last time. This is on me” she lifts her brows in some sort of ‘duh’ look. “That’s what we always do with the girls”. She’s now pushing his arms -and wallet- down.

“I’m not one of the girls”.

“Do you always pay for Federico’s coffee?” she tilts her head.

“It’s different” he rolls his eyes.

“Why? Because I’m a girl?” Eleonora’s full on fight mode now: arms crossed, chin up, petrifying look in her eyes. Edoardo looks down at her for a few seconds and sighs. He likes to think of himself as a feminist, an ally, Sana would correct him if she heard his thoughts. And no, he doesn’t always pay for Fede so why should he do it for Ele? Because he was taught that? And under what beliefs?

After a long second of thinking, he just shrugs and put his wallet inside his jean’s pocket, he keeps his hands there, too.

Eleonora smiles with pride at him and turns her body to the barista that’s returning with their drinks. Edoardo swears he sees a smudged smile on that girl’s face when she receives the money from Ele. She’s a feminist, too, Edoardo thinks grabbing his book from the bar and walking out the small shop.

The pair walk in silence from solid five minutes until Eleonora points out at a bench. “You mind sitting down?” Edo smiles and changes the direction of his steps, heading to the seat now.

Eleonora sits down first, pretzel style, facing Edoardo who sits down with his long legs extended in front of him and his right arm resting over the bench, next to Ele. His book settled in the middle.

“So” he pushes her shoulder jokily “what’s the problem with that project?”

The girl lets out and exaggerated groan before responding, “It’s for Greco”.

“Greco’s good!” Edo smiles “you’ll pass”.

“I’m not afraid of failing” Eleonora’s back straights up “I’m tremendously annoying by the fact I couldn’t chose my partners and now I’m anchored to” she extends a finger, counting the members of her group, “a high dude, who’s taking the class for the third time but doesn’t seem to notice; a douche with steroids, whose only concern is the clothes we will use for the presentation; and” she makes emphasis in the word, as if her exasperation wasn’t noticeable, “a princess who’s used to have others doing things for her” she grabs her coffee with both hands now. “You see my problem here?”

Edoardo keeps his lips sealed, trying not to laugh at her and her adorable angry face. He looks away, to the trees and stays silent for a few seconds.

“Okay” he clears his throat. “You should give the graphic presentation to high dude, his name’s Lorenzo, by the way and this is his second year with Greco, no third” his head ducked and tongue slightly out make Ele winks her nose, “you should give him and douche with steroids the graphic presentation, they’ll like it. And with Princess… well you and Princess can work together on the essay part. You’ll do most of the job, obviously, but if you ask things like ‘what do you think of…?’ ‘how do you feel with…?’ she would probably feel listened and would help.

Ele’s looking at him with narrowed eyes but a small smile’s forming on her lips. “I’ll try that” she says and they both fall into a calm silence Edoardo isn’t willing to break. At least he wasn’t until the memories from his conversation with Elia came back to his mind. He hesitates. Is it the right time? Probably isn’t, maybe it would never be but he has to ask.

“Can I ask you something?” He tries, low. Ele just shrugs in response.

“Why you never talk about your family?”

Eleonora’s face fills with confusion. “I talk about Filippo all the time” she smiles.

“I mean your parents”. And with that her smile fades.

“I never heard you talk about your family either” she says.

“You know about my mom” he shots back. He never told them, Fede did a few days before the anniversary of her death and, on that day, most of them showed up and just stayed around. Ele was the first one.

“They’re not… you know” the girl avoids his eyes.

“And where are they then?” he lowers his voice, leaning closer.

“My dad’s here. He was born here and he moved back here when he and my mom divorced. It was more than a decade ago.” She’s playing with her sweater now. “I’ve been living her for almost a year and saw him only twice. That tells you how close we are.” An unhappy chuckle escapes from her mouth. “And my mom” her head snaps up and Edoardo just looks at her. He wants to tell her she doesn’t have to talk. He wants to hit himself for making her feel sad but he also knows she needs to let it out. She isn’t even looking at him, her eyes fixed in the horizon. “My mom. She’s quite a lady. I mean, she’s fantastic as a woman and teacher but as a mother… well… she… After their divorce she started working in Padua as a teacher. She quickly started working in more classes and around the second year the three of us moved there. It was easier for her”.

“I was 10 or 11 and Filo 14, or maybe 15” she shrugs “my mom was working all the time and, when she wasn’t working, she was out with her colleagues. She was barely home. From that moment on, it was just me and Filo” she looks at Edoardo’s eyes and the boy’s chest aches for her. “When Filo finished high school, he told me he wanted to come back to Rome. Back to his friends. He wanted to study in Rome. He invited me to go with him. It wouldn’t make that big of a difference, we were always alone and I…” her expression suddenly changes into a mix of shame and hurt and Edoardo unconsciously squeezes her knee with his hand. She smiles. He doesn’t remove it. “I think I liked the idea of a new start. So, once we both were sure we make this huge list of reasons of why our mother should let us do it. She didn’t even read it. She just said ‘yeah, of course you can’ and by the next day she gave Filippo an extension of her credit card.”

Edoardo has no idea what to say. What do you say to a girl who was practically ditched by both her parents? How you comfort someone in a situation like that?

“You know…” he vacillates. “… I have a shitty family, too” he shrugs it off, pretending it is a common thing and they aren’t miserable.

Eleonora finds his eyes and smile, sad but still a smile. He touches her hair with his right hand and she leans into the touch, his left still on her knee and they just stay there in silence.

A woman, maybe early 30s or late 20s past by them and gives them a tiny, paternal smile. Edoardo knows what the scenario might seems like to a stranger but he doesn’t really care, he just wants Ele to be alright.

 Friday 18:10 – March 20, 2020 – It doesn’t matter, put the phone away.

 Edoardo, Chicco and Rocco are at Silvia’s, Federica’s and Sana’s apartment but only Silvia’s there. He likes Silvia, even when she is way overexcited at everything, she’s good and he likes her. There’s nothing planned, really. When he finished his last class, he texted the group chat he shares with his villa boys and Chicco invited him to the girl’s home and here he was, sitting in the couch with Chicco’s legs on him and watching Keeping Up with the Kardashians, Silvia’s favorite reality show.

Edo wasn’t excepting anything from that reunion other than spending time with his friends but still his stomached twisted with disappointed when the door opened and three girls walked in, followed by Martino.

“Did you change you fifth Winx for a Winx boy?” Rocco jokes besides Chicco, relaxing in the small couch. The four girls laugh and Martino makes a face.

“She’s studying” Eva explains throwing her coat next to Edo’s head and settling down in the floor.

“Studying” Silvia repeats in a mocking voice, waving her brows.

“Why do you say it like that?” Marti chuckles.

“Because she’s working with this guy that has the biggest crush on her and he’s muscled and hot and-”

“Hey!” Martino cuts her off, kicking her left toe with his right. “You have a boyfriend”.

“So what? It’s not like I’m cheating on Luca by observing someone’s beauty”, the blond girl defends herself.

“Yeah, but still I don’t feel comfortable with you talking about hot muscled guys while my best friend isn’t here to defend his muscle-less” he moves his hands in front of Silvia’s face, purposely annoying her.

“I don’t think Ele likes him” Edoardo hears himself saying and everyone turns their heads to him. He coughs. “I mean… I talked to her the other day and she seemed pretty upset to be working with him”. He isn’t looking at anyone in particular, scared of them seeing the memories of that afternoon through his dark eyes.

“They wouldn’t fit, anyway” Federica adds from her seat. “Ele doesn’t like guys like him”.

“The greatest love stories are the enemies-to-lovers ones”. Silvia suggest, smiling.

“Are you aware of how wrong that is?” Sana snaps, turning her whole body to face Silvia. By this point they all should be used to it but Edoardo still can see Chicco and Rocco deliberately sitting straight.

“Why?” Silvia asks innocently.

“Why? Okay. Let’s start with the terrible concept of a boy mistreating a girl actually means-” Edoardo has been friends with the girls for enough time to anticipate the situation. Silvia says something, Sana corrects her, Silvia disagrees and they get into a long battle that doesn’t take anyone anywhere but they still keep doing it. So, he takes this opportunity to remove his phone out of his pocket, search for the screenshot he took hours ago and send it to Eleonora. He was planning on showing it to her whenever he sees her but something insides him tells him he has to send it now, and he does. Before his homescreen turns dark the two little blue marks appears next to his message and Edoardo gets excited, he actually has to bite down a smile but then nothing happens, his friend isn’t online anymore and there’s no new messages for him.

After checking for the second time Edoardo’s attention is brought back into the room, Sana’s lectured turned into a discussion about politics and all of them are involved, even Federica, who never cares about… anything. He figures he has to participate before someone suspects so he shoves his phone into his pant’s pocket and tries to pay full attention to the debate.

[inkprintt]

the one that got away.

Word count: 2.5k

Genre: Mafia Au, lowkey angst but not really.

Members: Jaehyun, Haechan, Mark.

Warning(s): none really unless you don’t like swearing I’m pretty sure there’s a swear word or two.

Authors note: Just beware of my writing, I’ve never written an au before and I’m not really sure how to so any feedback would be very appreciated. I really had no idea how to piece the scenes together but here you go! Also this was inspired by a tweet by jack on twitter his @ was hetphobeyoon but idk what it is right now

Today is the day. You’d been chasing mafia-leader!Jaehyun for months now and you’d finally managed to intercept a messenger and find his future location. As a detective you’d faced a lot of difficulties both in gaining respect from colleagues and losing members of the team. This however, was your most difficult challenge yet. Somehow in spite of everything the end of this case was finally on the horizon. The rendezvous point for today was a dimly lit, rustic cafe. The view from the outside wasn’t much but it was kind of cute, it happened to be the place you’d first seen Jaehyun. Your eyes screwed shut as you thought of your ex, a now mafia leader. You inhaled a slow breath and pushed open the door of the cafe.

The inside of the cafe was made up of small tables and booths. Towards the back there was a fish tank with crystal blue water and an array of fish. Right next to it was a booth, away from any windows and full of a ragtag group of people. To the untrained eye, they looked like a odd group of people, a confusing mixture of people. To the trained eye, they looked exactly the same. This odd group were your team, with them you had begun to solve the case of the mafia leader off the grid.

You grinned as one of them raised a hand in greeting. This ragtag group were like family.

“Hey.” You said sliding onto the seat next to Haechan as a chorus of hey’s and hello’s floated back towards you.

All together you were a group of 6. Two junior detectives Mark and Haechan, your boss Jack, and two senior detectives like yourself named Amaya and Starr. It had been extremely difficult to hide the fact that you had this connection to Jaehyun from them, but it had to be done.

“Are we ready?” You inquired, reaching for the coffee already ordered for you. Black, of course. Today was no time for cream and sugar.

“Well, it’s looking like its gonna be a rough night but we are definitely ready this time. Our sources are secure and we have everything we need.” Amaya spoke, subconsciously tapping her nose ring. Her dark skin seemed to reflect every speck of light in the room, she was truly beautiful and brilliantly clever. Seeing her on the field is always a shock to the system. She investigates with precision and care, you’d never seen anyone so perfect at what they do.

“Here’s a spare phone, this has all the necessary locations, emergency contacts and a recording device just incase.” This time Jack looked at you, carefully sliding a sleek phone towards you. At the moment it lay dark and silent on the table.

“Okay, shall we start then?”

He nodded, opening up his ipad and beginning the briefing.

You nudged haechan, smiling up at him. “ You good?” You whispered, he tended to be nervous before big missions like these.

“Yeah, I’m good don’t worry.” He said, his honey skin now lightly dusted with pink. You zoned back into the conversation a small smile on your lips.

“-You guys are gonna need to be careful, the atmosphere is going to relaxed, yes. But it’s our job to stay alert and stay focused. You know your individual roles in this bust.” Jack said his tone laced with caution.

“Starr, I’m looking at you in particular when I say stick to the plan. I don't care what ideas you have while we are on the scene we have one thing to do and we ARE going to do that if it’s the last thing I do. Now isn’t the time to veer off course, okay?” He spoke gently, allowing his frustrations to peak through without coming across aggressively.

Starr seemed to slide down in her seat slightly. Although she was a great asset to the group, she had an unfathomable mind and that led to her going in a completely different direction to whatever was planned. Her dark hair floated around her head, as if each strand was trying to hide her embarrassment.

“Got it.”

“Okay. Mark? What have you got for me?”

Mark looked up, pushing his circular frames further up the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, numbers are looking low. I’m guessing about 8 members at this specific party. So we need to think tactically cause like, they in theory out number us. We know that we are better trained than at least 5 so that gives us a real advantage going forward.”

He looked around at each of us carefully noting our facial expressions before proceeding.

“In terms of weapons, it’s not looking great. A meeting of this importance is likely to have people on both sides heavily armed. Y/N, i'm sure you’ve got our weapons and deterrent devices sorted?” His eyebrow raised slightly in question.

“Yes, of course. I've had everything delivered to your houses, you’ll see when you go to get ready. The club is going to be packed so we don’t have the capacity for much firepower. You guys are going to have to rely mostly on your training.”

Haechan reached into his breast pocket, and slid two grainy photographs on the table. One man and one woman, both of a similar age.

“These two will lead us to him. Find them, you find the leader. Find the leader? Job done.”

He lifted his chin, determination visible on his face.

“This is our only chance, let’s do what we can.”

* * *

The night air was biting and a shiver ran down your spine as you reached the entrance to the bar. You couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or something else. Fear? Anticipation? None of it mattered, the only thing you needed at this moment in time was focus.

You nodded at the group. Haechan sported a red, velvet suit not a hair out of place, his skin glowed as usual but this evening it seemed to glow even more. A shimmer glittered across his eyelids and his lashes seemed long enough to brush his cheeks casting shadows on his face.

Amaya and Starr were at odds, one wearing a white dress, a perfect vision of beauty and innocence, while the other wore a playsuit of darkest black embellished with blinking diamonds, a vision of beauty and mystery. Mark and Starr appeared to be entranced by Amaya. This made you smile slightly, they were so obvious. It had been so difficult to get mark a good suit but Mark’s simple grey suit and turtleneck suited his low-key vibe.

Lastly, Jack sported a simple all black outfit, with a plain dress shirt and pants. You had made sure everyone dressed accordingly. The gala you were attending was one full of finery and spectacle. You had chosen the only extravagant outfit you owned. You wore a deep red dress that reached the floor. A slit in the side exposed your long legs, and intricate detailing snaked its way up over your chest and up to your neck. The dress hugged your figure as if it were an old friend.

“Let’s go. “ You murmured, becoming aware of the people around you. At a moments notice, you all went your separate ways. Entering the building and becoming lost in the crowds.

The air was warm in the gala, carrying the smooth scent of night blooming jasmine. The further you walked the more your jaw dropped, the place was something out of a dream. Large marble pillars held up a ceiling covered in renaissance art. The large chandelier in the middle of the room sent shards of light bouncing off peoples glasses, giving the room an odd glow. The loud music made your skin tingle. Your eyes slid shut, images of jaehyun swimming behind your eyelids. It had been a long time since you’d seen him and now it was to arrest him. When you opened your eyes you located a bar and ordered a drink.

The bartender was a stocky man with thick dark hair and a some wireframe glasses similar to Mark’s. He handed you your drink with a smile and you turned back to the party leaning on the bar. Your eyes flickered over the brim of your drink as you managed to spot one target almost immediately.

“I see the girl in the photo, she’s like halfway across the room from me. I’m going in.” You spoke, hoping your earpiece was picking up the audio over the loud music.

You glided away from the bar, downing your drink and placing it on a passing waiters tray. The crowd was thick with people, not one person looked the same and yet they all were connected in the fact that they were filthy rich. As you approached you noted the girls appearance, she was indeed the girl in the photo. She was incredibly beautiful, her fiery red hair appeared to swim around her head as she threw her head back in laughter. The many rings on her finger glinting as she tugged a strand of hair behind her ear.

The knife in your thigh holster felt like it weighed a ton as you slid towards her trying to remain inconspicuous. Before you could reach the girl, a tall figure stepped in front of her blocking your view. You raised your eyes to the stranger, freezing when you realised the man who stood before you was the leader of the mafia you were here to catch but also your ex-boyfriend.

His ash purple hair shone in the dim light, It offset his brown eyes making them appear even brighter than usual. He stood with a casual grace as though he was a dancer trained to move with ease. You rolled your eyes before slowly turning around and walking back to the edge of the room. Tapping your earpiece.

“Guys, nevermind the girl, I see him. I nearly came face to face with that idiot.”

“What? Where?“ Haechan questioned, “Where are you I think I just-”

Suddenly, the sound just cut out.

“Hello?” You whispered.. no answer.

You tapped your earpiece once more before you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Jaehyun stood before you again. His eyes glittered in amusement, he was annoyingly attractive. A fact you had tried to ignore time and time again. Despite the nature of your job and the nature of his, you had history. A relationship that you could never go back to now.

“Have we met before?” His voice was deep and sensual, everything about him radiated confidence. He was stood extremely still, his velvet accented suit hugged his muscular figure and you struggled not to acknowledge the way he affected you even now.

He seemed to not have recognised you yet. You held your breath, staying silent. You were unsure of whether or not to make a move when you had no back up.

Eventually when there was no response in your earpiece you said simply,

“I don’t know, Jaehyun. Have we?”

His brows furrowed and then his eyes widened slightly as he realised who you were.

“Y/n?”

He began to lift his watch to his mouth as if to speak to his cronies. From one second to the next, you had tackled him to the ground, a hand on his throat slowly increasing pressure. You were sat astride him, his well built body tense beneath yours, thankfully there were no people in this area.

“You’re really trying to call for backup right now.” you muttered, nothing but loathing dripping from your voice.

“I have not spent all this time trying to catch you to fail again.”

“I can't believe I didn't recognise you. “ He said a sly grin on his face despite the position he was in.

He moved so fast your eyes couldn't follow it, next thing you know he was on top of you an arm holding your chest to the ground.

“I’m sorry princess, but I can’t have you and your friends take me to jail. That would be no fun don’t you think?”

He was so close his breath fanned your face. You smiled before reaching up to knee him in the crotch, making him keel over. He groaned in pain before slowly getting back up.

“You piece of shit. I actually can’t believe I dated you.” You began to circle each other, ever so slowly his eyes travelled across your body.

“You know I never wanted to hurt you. My job is … what it is and you knew that it wasn’t going to be easy. ” Both of his hands were in his pockets as though you two hadn’t been rolling about on the floor two seconds ago.

You ran at him aiming a punch at his jaw, but rather than the punch connecting he grabbed you and pushed you up against the wall.

“I’m not gonna hurt you so stop trying to attack me.” He sighed, running a hand through his now mussed up hair. His eyebrows were knitted together as if it hurt him to be in this situation.

“I regret what happened between us everyday, but there’s nothing I can do about that now.”

You were incredibly close to him and looking into his eyes was dizzying. His lips looked so soft and plump, if you could just- NO. Every time you were with Jaehyun your mind went places it should never go. He was like a drug you couldn't get enough of.

He gazed into your eyes as if searching for some kind of response, then his eyes flicked to your lips. You’d had enough. You grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him towards you. Your lips met tentatively at first, he tasted like fresh mint and old memories. After a moment, he melted into your lips and you began to move in sync. You could feel his heart pounding against yours. His hands lifted from beside the wall and pulled you ever so closer to him as you leaned into his touch. For a moment, you forgot why you were at the gala, who he was and who you were. For a moment you were just a girl and a boy.

That moment was cut short however as Haechan walked in and yelled “What the hell are you doing?”

The two of you broke apart as fast as you came together. You put your hand over your mouth, in shock, but also to hide your swollen lips. You both glanced at each other, Jaehyun's eyes twinkled as if he was holding in a laugh.

“Uh, keeping my enemies closer?” You blurted, immediately wanting to throw yourself off the nearest balcony as the rest of your team joined Haechan.

#mafia!jaehyun au #nct fic #jaehyun #mark lee #haechan #nct 127

[onfleekson]

I don’t drink wine

Note: This is my first piece. I am not an English major.  My use of commas, my grammar and maybe some of my spelling might be horrendous. Please do not copy or repost without crediting the source.

(Female reader x Josiah Trelawny)

Part 1

The sun was setting over the horizon.  You were finishing up some chores around camp; chopping wood, feeding the horses.  In the middle of your task, Kieran comes to take over brushing the horses.  He smiles warmly at you as you head out to your tent. 

You had a solo mission tomorrow to prepare for, specifically requested by Dutch: To find an associate and ensure his safety.  You chuckle remembering how you responded to this.  “Boss, is Trelawny ever really lost and in danger? The snake can slither out of any situation.”  But he insisted.  The length or Trelawny’s silence has him worried, and Dutch was always the type to look out for his own.  It’s why you joined the gang in the first place.

As you enter your tent, you look at your small mirror as you undress for the night.  You pause when your eyes meet your own in the reflection.

Thoughts... memories you’ve pushed back in your mind resurface as your fingers slide over your face. You close your eyes. Against your better judgement, you remember.

It was the night before Blackwater, the plan had been laid out, assignments had been made and the gang was ready.  Some of them headed out to the pub for drinks, including yourself.  You all seemed to be suffering from a severe case of restlessness.  It happens usually to the same people before a big heist like this: Bill, Javier, John, Sean, Davey, Mac and you. Sometimes Arthur and Hosea would come to babysit the lot of you, sometimes the girls would join, but this time a new face joined the midst.

Trelawny wasn’t new to you, just unfamiliar. You had joined the gang around the same time Charles had several months ago. Trelawny was in and out and so you never had the chance to get to know the man.  However, after some time you’ve come to the conclusion on what type of character Trelawny is. He pops in ever so often to give something Dutch wants, information most of the time, then he’ll scurry off the next second. He never stayed for the fighting, he never had to provide for the gang, or ensure their safety.  It was something that didn’t sit well with you.

And here he was. The boys were spread out, playing dominoes, laughing with the local working ladies, enjoying the night.  You were sitting at a table, in a heated discussion with Mac and Davey about who the better shot was between John and Arthur.  That’s when HE appeared; out of nowhere, unannounced with extra beers for the boys. “And a fine wine for the lady,” Trelawny said flamboyantly, wafting the drink as dramatically as possible with a face of pure enchantment before placing the drink in front of you. 

Normally, you’d ignore the man and go on about your business.  This wasn’t the first time the snake attempted to initiate an encounter with you.  However, normally you aren’t borderline shit-faced.  To make the situation worse, your frustration was stoked by the fit of laughter coming from the Callander brothers. 

And boy, was you mad.

You stood up suddenly with such intensity that it silenced the boys and made Trelawny flinch. You grab Mac’s beer and down it, unknowingly calling the bar’s attention over to you.  Then you grab Davey’s drink and down that one as well.  When you finish, the bar erupts in a drunken cheer. Davey and Mac stand and pat you on the back, making comments to whoever was listening about how you was their woman.  Pushing them aside jokingly, you gracefully (not so gracefully) take a few steps toward Trelawny.  You push the wine over to him, “For the lady,” you say as you curtsey with as much extravagance as you can muster.

The brother’s fit of laughter starts up again as they make fun of Trelawny.  Satisfied with your work, you rise from your curtsey to relish the look on his face.  However, it was not the face you had anticipated.  Trelawny was completely besides himself with laughter.  You frown, confused. “Haha, oh- oh my dear, what a wondrous creature you are,” he said between his laughter, wiping tears from his eyes.  “You sure had me there.” he said looking up at you with adoration.

Unable to deal with the snake any longer, you take your hat and stumble out of the bar.  You hear some people call after you, but you ignore it.

“I’ve had enough for one night, Amore,” you whisper to your horse as you mount and ride away into the night. 

Dizzy and warm, you relish the cold night air as Amore takes you whichever direction he so chooses to go.  It was something the two of you did when you were too drunk to function.  You’d get on your trusty steed and he’d take you for a ride until you were sober enough to find your way home or until you passed out.

However, recently, your horse has been developing this strange habit during your rides.  Which reminded you, “Amore, so help me God, if you do that- that thing again... I swear I’m going to eat you for-” You were not able to finish the sentence, however, when all of a sudden your horse comes to a sudden stop and you begin to lurch forward.  It was a feeling you were becoming familiar with, and now knew all too well.  A split second was all you needed to accept your unfortunate fate, but it was not enough time for you to get a good hold of the reigns.  Then, in the next second, you’re sent flying into a freezing river. 

You’ve learned that you’re as good a swimmer drunk as you are sober.  You’ve been bucked into bodies of water enough times to learn this, unfortunately.  So you stay in the water for a minute, allowing the cold to take hold of your bones and chill you into a kind of sobriety. Then, slowly, you float up to the surface.  You were at Blackwater’s harbor.  Amore was peering down at you. 

“What if I couldn’t swim, and I died? Hu? What would happen to you then, you dumb horse...” you say bitterly. Too busy thinking of recipes that included horse meat in them, you don’t hear the gallop of another horse nearing until it’s too late.

“No! Trelawny, I don’t need save-” before you could finish your sentence, the man clumsily jumps off his horse and into the water, jumping onto you and pushing you back underneath the surface.  You could feel one of his arms around your waist as he pulls the two of you back up.  Breaking the surface, Trewlany is sputtering and struggling for air.  He swims to shore, the one arm now linked to yours instead of around your waist. You’re still too surprised to break away from his hold and you let him pull you ashore.

Once the two of you reached land, Trelawny turns to lie on his back and tries to catch his breath.  The harbor was dimly lit, but it was enough to be able to make out his red face and exhausted demeanor.  “You’re not a good swimmer,” you point out.

“A thank you would suffice,” he breathed between his gasps for air.

“I didn’t need saving,” you retort.

Silence.

“Why are you here?” you ask.

“The boys said you were fine riding on your own, but I was worried.  I guess it’s a good thing I followed you, or you’d still be in that river,” he said, finally catching his breath.

“I told you I didn’t need savin’!” you snap again.

Trelawny sits up and looks over at you unconvinced.

Silence again.

“Th-Thanks for caring enough to be out here, I suppose,” you mutter.

Trelawny laughs again, startling you. “I’ll take what I can get, I suppose,” he says looking back out onto the water.  You peer over at him.  His thick black hair was dripping wet and shining in what little light there was.  His mustache was in the same state as well.  His clothes were completely soaked.

“We should get back to camp and get dry before you get sick,” you say. You stand, make your way over to him and hold out your hand.  “and what about you, don’t you get sick?” he asks as he takes your hand.  With one hard tug, you’re able to pull Trelawny up.  He stumbles a little, but you help him regain his balance. “I don’t get sick,” you say. He laughs again, weakly. The two of you make your way to your horses.

As you’re securing your saddle, you look over at Trelawny again. You didn’t realize he was standing so close to you, and it startles you again. “Trelawny, your horse is over there,” you say, turning away from him. You curse yourself under your breath for being taken by surprise by him so many times tonight. The alcohol was probably the reason why you weren’t so sharp, but it was no excuse for letting someone catch you off guard so frequently. You’re more careful than that.

Trelawny didn’t move, however. He looked at you, a little red in the face still, but with the same look he had at the bar.  Adoration.  Frustrated, you snap at him again, “this is no time for your tricks, Trelawny! We need to get back to camp as soon as possible.” He doesn’t look away. Instead, he raises one of his hands to your face and cups your cheek.  “My dear, what a wondrous creature you are...” he says quietly as his face draws closer to yours.  You blush and stammer, unable to find the words to express yourself.  But before he can kiss you, you push Trelawny away.

“Of all of God’s damned creations, you are, by far, the slimiest, most dim-witted...” you start but your voice trails off as you notice Trelawny’s state.  His eyes are fairly glazed over and he’s stumbling backwards, unable to catch his footing.  You lunge to catch him before he falls. “Trelawny,” you call to him, slapping his face  a bit.  You put your hand to his forehead and it’s warm.  Fever.

It doesn’t take long for you to get Trelawny onto your saddle.  It doesn’t take long for you to reach camp and get him settled into a bed and seen and attended by Miss Grimshaw and Strauss.  It didn’t even take long for the charming snake to break the fever and recover.

However, as you stand in your tent, days later, peering at your reflection in the mirror with your hand over the same cheek Trelawny held.  You realize it’s going to take a hell of a long time to forget the way he made you feel that night.

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fandom #josiah trelawny #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #rdr #fanfic #fanfiction #rdr 2 fanfiction

[byuneebuns]

Syntax Error (Requested)

@wonboowoo asked: 

“can I request a fluffy wonwoo imagine or scenario (whichever it fits better as cause I'm not sure) where he's the shy quiet boy in your college english class that has a crush on you but isn't sure how to tell you? ty ily lots stay beautiful ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ (*⌒▽⌒*) ～♪”

Tags: Fluff, The Fluffiest Thing I’ve Ever Written Tbh, Just Fluff, Classmate AU

Author’s Note: Thank you for the request! Its a little short but I hope you enjoy it ♡ 

You sighed with irritation as your eraser tumbled out of your grip, bouncing along the ground and under the desk next to yours.

“Um, excuse me...could you pass my eraser please? It fell under your chair.” You whispered, startling the raven-haired boy that was your desk neighbor. He rarely spoke to you if he could help it and his cat-like eyes narrowed as he considered you before reaching one long arm under his chair to retrieve your belongings.

“Thank you!” You whispered, smiling sweetly. He stared at you for a moment, almost like he was thinking about what to say, but turned back to his worksheet without a word.

You sighed to yourself, your eyes downcast.

You’d been in the same English class as Jeon Wonwoo for months now and he had always been like this. You’d seen him talking with his friends and even other girls and boys, so the only conclusion you could come to was that he just didn’t like you.

You’d spent countless hours trying to win him over, offering him some of your lunch when he forgot his, trying to make small talk about assignments, but he never seemed interested in the conversation. You’d caught him staring at you on a few occasions but his expression was hard to read so you just chalked it up to intense dislike.

It was a shame, really. He was incredibly smart, easily the top of the class, and wildly handsome. Tall, tanned, toned, with features sharp enough to cut someone. His hair was usually slicked back and his voice was deep and husky. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought he was a troublemaker, but in reality he was just a quiet bookworm.

You tried to return to your work but the nagging thoughts of Wonwoo plagued you and you were sure half of your answers were wrong because of him.

Class continued on and you kept your eyes glued forward, refusing to waste anymore time on your neighbor’s theorized poor opinion of you, until you were forced to acknowledge him yet again.

“As you all know we have a project due when we come back from spring break. With us being a little behind schedule I’ve decided to make it a joint effort to reduce everyone’s workload a little bit with our midterms on the horizon. You’ll be teaming up with the person sitting next to you for this one, so please spend the last few minutes of class exchanging information and starting your project planning.”

The teacher’s decree felt like a death sentence. You couldn’t imagine anything more awkward than being forced to work with someone who wouldn’t even speak to you.

You turned to face your new partner, hoping beyond all reasonable doubt that you would somehow find him more agreeable. Instead you found him with his gaze fixed on his desk, his cheeks red for some reason, presumably with anger.

You sighed again as you scribbled your phone number on a post-it note and stuck it in front of the spot on his desk that he seemed intent on staring a hole into.

“That’s my phone number. I’m free pretty much everyday, so just let me know when you want to get together and do this.”

Wonwoo nodded jerkily, still not meeting your eyes, making your stomach drop with sadness a little.

***

Nearly a week had passed and you still hadn’t heard hair nor hide from Wonwoo. He’d been sending all of your calls to voicemail. You were growing irritable and nervous about how it would affect your grade if you had to do it by yourself. The project very specifically stated that it was to be presented together. You rolled over on your bed and moaned into your pillow with frustration. 

If Wonwoo wasn’t going to make an effort you would have to take matters into your own hands.

***

Your feet hit the pavement with dull thuds as you trudged through the neighborhood looking from house to house for your destination. You were beginning to regret not wearing more comfortable shoes, the walk has been longer than you anticipated. Despite your anger you couldn’t help wanting to look cute, so you’d chosen a pale blue sundress with brown sandals. You nervously wondered if it would be obvious that you’d tried so hard to look nice.

Your feet stopped in front of a modest single family home with a brass number 17 hanging next to the door. You glanced down at the address scribbled on your sticky note and took a deep breath. There were no cars in the driveway. Stupid. You hadn’t considered what you’d do if no one was home. Your shoulders slumped, either from the weight of your backpack or defeat, you weren’t sure.

“Well, I’m already here, I might as well knock I guess.” You mumbled to yourself, chewing your lip nervously as your made your way up the driveway to the front door.

Your heart was pounding in your chest while your fist pounded on the door.

Silence.

You sighed. He wasn’t home after all.

You turned to walk away when the door swung open, revealing a disheveled looking Wonwoo. He was wearing basketball shorts and a large white t-shirt, and his eyebrows raised comically when he saw you.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, visibly perplexed.

You spun around, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

“I’m here to do our English project! You’ve been avoiding me all break! I don’t care if you hate me, I just want to keep my GPA up!” The words left your mouth like a whirlwind, your breathing was heavy from shouting and your cheeks were red, both from embarrassment and exertion.

Then, for the first time ever, Wonwoo smiled at you.

It was a beautiful sight. You thought to yourself that even if you never saw it again that you were truly blessed to have witnessed something so precious. 

He chuckled lowly.

“Why don’t you come inside?” He stepped aside, allowing you step past him into the entrance way. You glanced down, noting the lack of shoes by the door.

“Is anyone else home?”

“No, just me.”

You gulped, your cheeks heating as you followed Wonwoo silently up the stairs. 

His room was exceptionally clean and well-organized. Not a pile of dirty clothing or even a stray sock in sight. You couldn’t help being impressed, boys weren’t usually known for their cleanliness.

You stood awkwardly in the doorway wringing your hands, praying your nerves weren’t showing on your face, but Wonwoo was too busy rummaging through his backpack to notice either way. 

He sat down in the middle of the floor with a few open textbooks in front of him, and gestured for you to join him.

“Why did you ignore all of my calls?” You blurted out before you could help yourself. If you’d known how compliant he would be if you just showed up at his house you would have come by ages ago, but he’d sure gone out of his way to make this inconvenient.

“I never received any calls from you. I wouldn’t ignore you like that. Maybe you have my number wrong?” He replied quietly, looking away from you and rubbing the back of his neck.

“How did you find my address? And why do you think that I hate you?” He countered, eyeing you with an inscrutable expression.

“Student directory. You never talk to me in class, you never make eye contact, and I thought you were ignoring all of my calls because you didn’t want to do this project with me.” You said, feeling increasingly childish with each word.

“Why didn’t you ever call me? I gave you my phone number during class. If you hadn’t heard from me you could have called instead.”

Wonwoo avoided your gaze, his cheeks tinged with pink again.

“Ah....”

“Hey, answer me. We need to clear up our misunderstandings properly so we can work together.” You said, tugging on his shirt to reclaim his attention.

“I was...too nervous.” He mumbled, barely audible over the loud thump of your heart.

“Nervous...?”

He nodded, still refusing to look at you.

“You make me nervous.” He whispered.

You were speechless. You took a few minutes to digest this new information before pressing him further.

“So...all of the times you ignored me in class...were you nervous then, too?” You asked, your voice faint.

Wonwoo swallowed roughly and nodded in confirmation a second time.

Your mind was reeling. All of this time you’d been assuming he hated you, you’d never thought to consider that it could have been the opposite. Your brain was replaying every interaction you’d ever had with one another on a loop and the more you looked back on them the more foolish you felt for not seeing it. You’d assumed the worst without considering other options.

“Do you, um, want to start working?” Wonwoo mumbled, his face radiating heat with the fury of his blush.

You beamed at him.

“Sure.”

The two of you worked in comfortable silence together, speaking only to share ideas or confirm what direction to take your joint effort in. Despite the silence there was a tangible electricity in the air. Whenever you looked at each other, when your fingertips brushed together reaching for the same thing. Your faces were both permanently stained red.

You brushed eraser dust from your page and sat back, admiring your work.

“I think my part is all done!”

You glanced out the window and saw the sun was already setting and gasped.

“Oh no, I have to get going, I didn’t realize how long we’d been working.” You said, springing to your feet nervously. Wonwoo rose to his feet as well, quietly helping you retrieve your scattered belongings, and followed you from the room.

“Can I...walk you home? It’s too dark for you to be out alone.” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck again. You were quickly noticing that it must have been a nervous habit of his.

You chewed on the inside of your mouth thoughtfully.

“It isn’t too far but if you don’t mind I would appreciate the company.” You said, unable to keep the smile from your lips. He returned it, shyly meeting your eyes before swiftly looking away again. Your heart throbbed painfully again.

The two of you walked through the twilit streets together, occasionally breaking the silence to make some comment about the scenery or school.

You had never known just being in someone’s presence to be so...comforting.

You found yourself glancing at his hand swinging in sync with your own, mere inches from one another. You wanted so badly to reach out and touch him, to confirm this was real, and as if in answer to some unspoken prayer you both swung your arms at just the right speed, just the right angle, that your fingers crashed together, tangling with one another. 

You both looked in opposite directions, but your hands stayed clasped together, fingers slowly entwining.

The rest of the walk felt like it was in slow motion and sped up all at once. You wished it could have lasted forever but you were already in your driveway. You reluctantly pulled your hand away and turned to face Wonwoo. He held your gaze this time, both of you searching for words.

“Thank you for walking me home.” You said in a hushed tone, swinging your newly freed arms nervously.

“You’re welcome. Thanks for coming and getting this done with me. Well, uh, enjoy the rest of your break.” He awkwardly waved at you and started making his way back down your driveway.

You felt overwhelmed by an emotion you couldn’t place and before you could really consider what you were about to do you were running after him.

“Wonwoo, wait!”

He turned to you, his eyebrows raised.

You barely managed to stop before you would have doubtlessly knocked him off of his feet, skidding to a halt just in front of him and throwing your arms around his neck. You stood on the very tips of your toes and pressed your lips gently into his cheek, trying to put all of your unspoken feelings into that single action.

You turned and ran back to your front door without another word, internally screaming in embarrassment.

Wonwoo watched you flee, his mouth slightly open, one hand resting on his cheek where your lips had been only moments before, his face blazing like a sunset.

#seventeen #seventeen wonwoo #svt wonwoo #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #svt fanfic #svt fanfiction #svt fluff #svt wonwoo fluff #reader x wonwoo #idol x reader #kpop fluff #seventeen kpop #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #svt fics #byuneebuns requests #wonwoo x reader #seventeen drabbles #seventeen imagines #seventeen oneshot #svt drabble #svt oneshot #svt imagine #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios

[sleeplesspensieve]

Remedy For Guilt - XVI

Summary: The daughter of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange is a Healer who finds herself not only haunted by her past but also questioning her choice in career. When Lyra Lestrange’s old headmaster offers her a position as Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher she finds herself thrown into an adventure involving a secret affair with a colleague, discovering the cure for a disease and dealing with students cursing themselves. Who knew that being a Hogwarts Professor was such a rollercoaster?

Set in the school year of 1990-1991 with the prospect of a sequel, or two, on the horizon.

Rated: E for graphic sex scenes in THIS and later chapters. Over 18′s only please.

Word Count: 3425

Multichapter Fic (Expected to be around 30-35 chapters with a planned sequel which will take place during the Harry Potter Books)

Chapter Sixteen - Remedial Plants

Lyra found herself walking the grounds of Hogwarts early Saturday morning, her feet took her to the greenhouses where Pomona Sprout was tending to the numerous plants.

“Good Morning, Lyra!” the Herbologist greeted. “How are you progressing with your Psyrot cure?”

“I’m actually getting started with testing different ingredients,” Lyra replied, “I was hoping you could advise me on any natural anti-parasitics. So far all I’ve got is wormwood, black walnut husks and pumpkin seeds.”

“That’s about all I know as well,” the Professor said, “There aren’t actually many out there. Those three best work in conjunction with one another.”

Lyra nodded, “I have a list here of things I was hoping to pick.” She passed on the piece of parchment.

Venoms/Poisons

Angel’s Trumpet

Baneberry

Bloodroot

Venomous Tentacula

Hemlock

Misc ingredients

Nettles

Lavender

Wormwood

Black Walnut Husks

Valerian Root

Dittany

Pumpkin Seeds

Pomona looked over the list and her lips tightened. “I’m afraid that Professor Snape has cleared out most of the general potions ingredients,” she replied. “It’d be worth speaking to him, he probably has better knowledge than me for practical applications of these ingredients.” Lyra gritted her teeth. “You two aren’t on speaking terms at the moment,” the older witch stated, observing the tension in the young witch’s jaw. “Maybe you should attempt to make amends. Severus was significantly happier when you two were friendly. This may be a way to bridge the gap, he’s never turned away a colleague in need.” The young Professor sighed at her colleague’s words.

“You can gather the other ingredients,” Pomona said, “I trust that you have your dragon hide gloves?”

Lyra pulled them out and put them on, getting to work on obtaining the various poisonous ingredients. She intended to use them to see their effects on the worms, an experiment which she carried out as soon as she arrived back to her room. All seemed to be rather effective, except for Hemlock, in killing the parasite in rather low doses. Unfortunately they were all poisonous to humans as well, there was no telling what would happen if they were ingested in a potion. There were too many variables and adept as Lyra was at making potions she was no potioneer. Creating a potion to cure a disease was a whole different ball game to simply following an instruction manual.

She did not want to admit defeat and ask the Potions Master for assistance but if she truly did want to discover a cure she’d have to. Reluctantly, she found herself walking down to the dungeons with several worms and poisons. With each step down she felt her stomach descend, beginning to feel physically ill at the prospect of facing him after two weeks of silence. Two weeks wasn’t enough to get over with what occurred between them.

The nausea rose as she knocked on his door, her heart was racing, her head dizzy as she waited for the Head of Slytherin to open up. Why in Godric’s name, was he taking so long to answer the door? She found herself fiddling with her hand as she waited, twirling the pine between her fingers as a drummer would with his sticks. She felt hyper aware of the students that passed, she hoped they weren’t staring at her. Lyra attempted to maintain an air of confidence despite the fact she felt like she was about to throw up. Severus’ door flew open, with one quick glance at the woman he spat out the word, “What?”

Her jaw tensed slightly at the venom of her words. She looked up at him for a brief moment, her eyes cast downward immediately after they met. “I need your help.”

Severus merely stepped aside, allowing the young Professor into his office. She forgot how intimidating he could be, it was a treatment that she had never been on the receiving end of. Lyra slid past the Potions Master and stood aimlessly as he shut the door.

“Well?” he asked expectantly.

Lyra felt as though she was a nervous student again. She breathed in deeply in an attempt to ground herself, trying to find the confidence to speak. “I’ve been continuing my research on Psyrot,” she said, “And I can’t do it alone.”

Severus took a seat, summoning a seat for the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor as well. With a deep exhale he composed himself for the witch, “Tell me your findings.”

Lyra swallowed hard before explaining herself. “Well, Kettleburn bred some of the parasites for me so I can test different poisons and things that may work against it that I may be able to incorporate into a potion. The reason that the Pepper Up doesn’t work is that it develops a shell towards the later stages, preventing it from being destroyed by heat as well as the body’s immune system. So either I can find something that will weaken its shell or something that can kill it nonetheless. I was rather limited as Pomona said you had taken most of the ingredients I require.”

“What have you tested so far that’s worked?” he enquired.

“Angel’s Trumpet.”

“Too deadly.”

“Baneberry.”

“Targets the heart.”

“Can’t redirect it?”

“With great difficulty it’s possible, other options?”

“Bloodroot?”

“Bowels and blood.”

“Could it penetrate the blood brain barrier?”

“With some tweaks it’s possible but risky.”

“Venomous Tentacula.”

“It’s too volatile, otherwise it’d be ideal as it isn’t deadly to humans.”

“Well that’s it really,” she sighed. “Those ones kill it. The Venomous Tentacula seems to be most effective. Otherwise in low doses the bloodroot gets rid of the shell then you could probably use Pepper Up.”

“What about classic antiparasitics?” he asked.

“Pomona was out so we’d need to trial,” she said.

“I think we can use bloodroot and wormwood,” he replied. “The difficulty would be getting it to target the brain as well as getting the concentration correct for human consumption. If not then we’ll try to use the tentacula venom.”

“I’m sure there’d be a charm to direct it to the brain,” she said, her mind remembering a passage she had read somewhere.

“Most potions target specific parts of the body based on the ingredients within but charming it would be ideal in the case of the tentacula. Research it when you can. We should start testing.”

With a nod, the pair moved off into the Potions classroom, both pulling out ingredients off the shelves to trial on the worms. Nettles simply made the outer shell more solid and no other component seemed to efficiently shed the shell as efficiently as the bloodroot. It was a lot of trial and error in which Severus took the lead, Lyra offered suggestions based on her knowledge that Severus would comment on. He enjoyed debating potion theory with the girl, it was refreshing to speak with someone with different perspective. Honestly, for him it was nice be speaking with her once more.

Severus realised he had missed her over the past two weeks of absence. He had found himself a bit more short of temper than usual, his general tolerance of people had reduced significantly resulting in an excess of sarcasm and harsher punishments on students. Anyone that ticked him off in the slightest would find their house lacking a significant number of points with a strong prospect of detention, in fact he had several students lined up for detention that evening which he now was dreading. He wanted to spend more time with Lyra but maybe it was best he kept his distance.

He watched her from afar, maintaining at least a foot of physical distance between them but as he sat back he found himself noticing little quirks he hadn’t noticed before like the soft edge of her jaw when she tucked back a stray piece of hair or the way her nose would wrinkle as she made an observation and quickly wrote it down on her parchment. It stirred quite a confusing emotion within him, his heart both felt full and ached as he pined for her. His head was telling him to keep away, knowing the trouble that his heart would lead him into.

“We’ll need to trial these on something living,” she commented as they settled on an effective combination that synthesised well with the low dose of bloodroot.

“I have students coming for detention soon,” Severus said, “Perhaps we should trial it on them.”

Lyra giggled, “Rats would be ideal.”

“I’ll speak to Filch about getting some,” he replied.

“I’ll research guiding spells, what time did you want to meet tomorrow?”

“Probably around 10,” he said.

“Ok,” she replied as she showed herself out.

“Lyra,” he called out after her, his heart tugging and longing to be with hers.

She hummed a small sound as she turned around.

He wanted to apologise, he wanted to say that he missed her but he couldn’t form the words. His head told himself to keep his distance so he settled on, “Have a good night.”

She smiled sweetly back, “You too.” She turned, waving her hand as she walked away.

The day had left her feeling accomplished, after weeks of stagnation in the development of the cure she felt as though she was finally progressing. She was thankful that she had her old Professors on her side to guide her through the process. Lyra had learnt the theory behind the development of treatments in her NEWTs and Healer training but without her experienced colleagues she would’ve found herself lost. Not to mention it would’ve taken a great deal longer. The whole experience allowed her to acknowledge her short comings and learn from some of the greatest witches and wizards.

Lyra also felt relieved in the sense that despite the awkward ending of their intimate relationship the two could remain in a room together for several hours to work on something and maintain a completely professional relationship. There were no sarcastic comments or teasing remarks from either party. The two were focused on working towards a cure for Psyrot.

Lyra’s focus on the cure continued as she wandered to the library in search for a particular book. She couldn’t recall the name of the book but she could see the passage clearly in her head. ‘Where did I read it?’ she asked herself.

Madam Pince was of no help for she couldn’t see into the witch’s mind and with the copious amount of books that could be of relevance it would take days to narrow it down. Lyra thought harder of where she might’ve read it, concentrating on the image of her memory. She recognised the ebony desk in the background. Of course, she had read it whilst studying in the Malfoy Manor. Hastily, she thanked the librarian and power walked to the edge of the castle grounds. Once she knew she was past the anti-apparation barrier she thought hard of the Manor and with a spin she found herself there.

She walked the familiar path through the wrought iron gates, down the cobbled footpath and up the stairs of the patio to its grand entrance.

She was greeted by a confused looking Lucius as he walked down the marble staircase. “Lyra? What are you doing here?”

“Sorry,” she said as she removed her coat, “I just needed to pop into the library to do a bit of research. I should’ve warned you.”

“Nonsense,” he said as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “This is your home.” The witch smiled slightly at her Uncle’s gesture. “Will you join us for tea?”

“Of course,” she replied.

“Cissy is visiting Cygnus with Draco at the moment so you’ll be able to get some peace and quiet,” he said, “If you need anything, let me know.”

With that, Lucius wandered off to the living room. As she walked up the stairs she could hear the tinkling of piano keys, her heart sung along to the melody as she recalled Lucius teaching her as a young girl and how she’d sing along with him. They were rare but sweet moments she shared with her Uncle that occurred long before he had adopted her.

Lyra was pulled out of her memories as she was faced with the lined walls of the library. She easily found the collection of books regarding the healing arts and potion making and began to pull out what she thought was relevant. Once amassing a large stack that was piled on the ebony desk she began to flick through each book, attempting to match her fuzzy memory with the pages. An hour passed before she actually found the passage she was looking for.

Potion Targeting

As most potions are ingested the primary area of absorption is within the digestive tract. The effect a potion may have may differ from its intended purpose due to the unpredictability and low absorption via the enteral route. This may be counteracted through the use of charms.

When finishing a potion the witch or wizard must use the incantation ire followed by the latin name for the desired organ waving their wand over the cauldron in a circular thrice clockwise and once counterclockwise.

An alternative method for potion targeting, particularly in a healing sense, is to use animal tissue of the desired target. This may involve the use of diseased tissue or parasites within the potion. When adding the tissue recite the incantation cel scopus three times. Please note that this may not be an effective method if the ingredients within the potion are toxic.

Lyra placed a bookmark within the page and slammed it shut. She felt closer than ever to the solution. With her wand she sent the rest of the books back into place before she headed downstairs.

The muted sound of piano still echoed in the entrance, the piece was building and falling gracefully. She approached the living room door, knocking softly, afraid to disturb Lucius as he was engaged in his performance. Yet, she heard him say “Come in,” as he continued to tickle the ivories.

She took a seat, resting the book on her lap as she watched her Uncle in fascination, admiring his form as his fingers danced delicately on top of the keys. He had so much passion and emotion, it was like there was magic intertwined with his playing, enchanting those who would listen. Several minutes passed until he reached the end.

“That was brilliant,” she said.

Lucius was flattered, smiling brilliantly at his niece. The man stood, drawing his wand and flicking it at a cupboard as he took a seat next to her. The doors opened and a serving plate exited, holding an unopened bottle of Malfoy Apothecary’s Superior Red and two wine glasses. “I recall Severus mentioning that you performed at the Founding Ball,” he said as he settled into the plush armchair. “He said you performed wonderfully, I haven’t seen you play in a long time.”

“I fell out of touch with it,” she shrugged, watching the bottle uncork itself and pour into each glass. “It slipped from my priorities, I was focusing on my studies.”

“As fair as that its, it’s such a waste of your talent,” Lucius plucked the glass from the air once it was filled.

Lyra allowed hers to nestle between her fingers, “I hardly think so. I enjoyed my studies.”

The blonde swirled his cup and inhaled the red. “You could be enjoying some free time and looking for a decent man. Tell me, are you still seeing Severus?”

Lyra’s expression dropped as her thoughts dwelled on the man mentioned. She hadn’t come to terms with it yet, it weighed heavy in her chest despite the fact that she had been working closely with him only hours before. “It fizzled out,” she said before taking a deep sip of the wine.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Lyra,” he said.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his fake apology.

“Truly,” he placed his hand over his heart. “I may be your Uncle but I have raised you as my own. It saddens me to see you upset but honestly, it is for the best. You’ll find a man worthy of your affections.”

“Otherwise you’ll find one for me,” she tilted her head with a smirk of amusement.

Lucius sighed, “I know you’re not interested, you’d rather focus on your career. Will you resume your healing studies when you finish or remain at Hogwarts?”

“I do enjoy teaching,” she said, “But I think my passion still lies within healing. I’ve been working on a cure for Psyrot which is why I dropped in.”

“And how is that progressing?”

“Well, I think Severus and I should be able to figure it out hopefully tomorrow, if not within the week.”

“I thought you two ‘fizzled out’?”

“I mean we’re not sleeping together but he’s still my colleague. His knowledge and experience in potion-making far exceeds mine.”

“You love him, Lyra,” he observed, “I can tell.”

“But we’re not-”

“Doesn’t matter what you are and are not doing,” he said firmly, “You love him and as far as I can tell he does too but he has the sense not to pursue it. You’re young and want to follow your heart, I understand but you have an obligation to your family.”

Lyra sighed deeply at her Uncle’s words, sinking into her seat. She raised her glass and the bottle poured itself into it.

“Maybe you should speak to Narcissa about it,” Lucius remarked.

“She would be disappointed in me,” she frowned slightly.

“She was in love with another man before me,” he said, “His family was not of the same status as ours so our marriage was arranged. My parents were hoping I’d marry Andromeda but she ran off with that mudblood so I had Narcissa. She wasn’t happy but she went with it, eventually we fell in love then we had Draco. She’d understand where you’re coming from.”

The two were interrupted by the entrance of Narcissa and Draco. The young boy beamed at the sight of his cousin and ran into her lap. Quickly she placed her glass down to embrace the boy.

“Lyra!” he exclaimed, “You came back.”

She chuckled, “Of course I did. How is grandpa?”

“Good,” he shrugged. His eyes darted over to look at his parents who were embracing and he leaned in to whisper into the witch’s ear. “It was really boring,” he murmured, “I had to sit and drink tea with them.”

“Draco,” Lucius said with a warning tone, “You shouldn’t climb all over Lyra, you’re getting too old for cuddles.”

“How do should you greet a lady, Draco?” Narcissa asked.

The boy slid off her lap and demonstrated. He faced her, took her hand and gave it a soft kiss before bowing. Lyra stifled a laugh, smiling at the boy as his head raised and nodding to dismiss him.

“Very good,” Narcissa said. “Is it time for tea yet?”

“It can be,” Lucius replied. “Dobby!” he called out.

The house elf appeared in front of him with a bow, “Yes, master?”

“We want tea now.”

“Very well, sir,” the elf snapped his fingers.

The four moved on to the dining room where they caught up with Lyra over an exquisite feast. She explained to Narcissa of her pursuit of the cure for Psyrot which she hoped would convince her to relent on the topic of marriage but it came up once more. Lyra was uncomfortable as they discussed the subject, her heart still pining for Severus, which her Uncle took note of and redirected their conversation to another topic.

Lyra ended up staying the night at the Manor as time slipped so easily through her fingers as she enjoyed the company of her family. She was given the duty to read a story from the Beedle and the Bard to Draco before he went to sleep. The boy battled the sleep that was weighing heavy on him, wishing to stay up and enjoy the company of his cousin but eventually he surrendered.

#severus snape #original character #harry potter #fanfiction #hogwarts #fanfic #lyra lestrange #oc

[fenton-bus]

I.

How To Lose Acquaintances And Discourage People

    All you really need to know is this:

Austin spills his Monster Energy drink on some Hawaiian-shirt wearing redhead in his Poli-Sci class and Trish ends up paying for it for the remainder of her natural life.

∞

A long shadow falls over her IPad screen.

  Despite the fact that she is a grownup-esque, adult-ish, totes mature person Trish honestly cannot help the rapid fluttering of her heart, the dizzy thrill of reckless hope at the possibility that today of all days, in this crummy corner of Daley’s surrounded by sad, dreamless randoms she’s managed to find her James Darcy or Edward Cullen. Bracing herself against her chair, Trish takes a breath, turns around.

 “Do you ever think about parallel dimensions?”

 JK, its Dez, decked out in a leopard print vest, polka dot pants combo that screams I’m a grown man.

 Trish wrinkles her nose. “What are you wearing?”

 He smiles, wide and warm before choosing a direction to stare into like a pirate ship captain gazing off into the horizon. Hands on hips, dignity forgotten.

 A solitary hair flip. “I woke up like this.”

 “Go back to sleep. It obviously didn’t work.”

 His mouth falls open in an all too real outrage, palms spread. Sensing the full twirl before it happens Trish holds up one hand.

 “Flawless.” Dez intones.

 The voice is more Batman than Beyoncé.

 “No.”

 “Bow down.”

 Trish winces. Grits her teeth. “We’ve been over this freckles, you’re not allowed to blaspheme Beyoncé Carter-Knowles.” It’s way too early in her life for this. "Please go put on different pants.”

 “I hear your criticism, Dez rocks back on the balls of his feet. And I’m going to go in another direction.”

 “The door?”

 “Nope.” There is the ear-punching scratching of chair legs being dragged across the wooden floor (and the subsequent staring of sad randoms without lives) and bam, pale, freckled, freakishly long limbs are stretching across the table to get at her pumpkin spice muffin, gargantuan Franken-feet are nudging her flats under the table, and Dez’s face, sparkling with a truly exhausting amount of joy like they haven’t seen each other in four years as opposed to four days is turned toward her like some giant, non-verbal invitation there aren’t enough versions of ‘I Renounce Thee Satan’ in the world to rsvp to. Trish grabs her iced caramel macchiato and hugs it to her chest protectively.

 “Go away.”

Dez eyes her IPad. “Dude, are you tweeting Quincy Jones again? He hasn’t responded to your last five tweets. He flips his hair again. (Trish does not growl) That last one had a pretty aggressive tone.”

“Carrot face, the girl says sweetly. I’m working.”

The doof actually smiles in this commiserating way, like he lives in a world where applying for internships and writing music reviews are in every way comparable to juggling or baking brownies or riding a unicycle down the Long Island Expressway or whatever he does with his free time. Trish rolls her eyes. Seven months ago she would’ve called Dez Wade a doof and moved on but now, his status is clear: he is high king of the doofs. The Eminent Supreme Doof. On his home planet, whole civilizations of lesser doofs have carved his image in stone and decorated the halls of his palace with his stupid, doofy portrait. The amount of sheer doofiness that is able to exist in one pale, stick figure of a body is Beyond.

 Sometimes, the fact that someone like Dez even exists, much less speaks to her on a daily basis is just…how? Or, it would be, if Trish thought about it for too long. At the moment, she’s up to letting it sit in her brain for a maximum of thirty seconds before she decides to go out and

 Anyway, Dez is saying “Cool,” like he’s worked before, and nodding and launching into a conversation he had with his cat this morning and she’s totally succeeding at not paying attention (on goes the IPad, hello Twitter) when he claps his hands real loud, real sudden, and shouts “Okay!”

The barista formerly carrying the iced mocha latte is currently frozen in place, watching it sail across the room. Staying on its given trajectory means it’ll collide with Wall Street Guy who chose today of all days to wear his best Brooks Brothers suit. But the dude is so busy having a deep convo with Bargain Basement 90s Era Will Smith (big ears, neon green windbreaker, dark purple fanny pack, currently singing the items on the specials board to himself) that he doesn’t notice the coffee he didn’t order until it’s sloshing around in what was previously his very natural looking hair piece. (Wall Street has been coming in and ordering black double espressos since midterms. Trish can’t believe she didn’t notice the rug.)

 Wall Street Guy’s yelp is drowned out by the actual scream of the woman at the table behind him, when his wet hair falls on top of her cinnamon bun.

 “My bad.” Dez mutters.

Trish manages to tear her eyes away from the beautiful train wreck long enough to give him her limited-edition, Side-Eye that had he actually been looking at her, would have given him the effect of feeling judged for all eternity.

Now Cammy the Barista is gazing off into the distance. Not like a pirate captain though, she looks legitimately horrified. Trish has seen that very specific brand of shock and terror on her co-workers faces whenever her bosses go on tangents about “trimming excess”. Trish knows that right this very moment, every tiny, seemingly trivial mistake Cammy’s ever made inside these walls is flashing through her head movie montage style. (the soundtrack? Her anguish) Every messed up order, every backed up afternoon rush,  every time she had to tell the long-haired, piercing-riddled, Ray-Bans wearing, tattooed,   painter from Brooklyn on his usual stop in during his morning bike ride no they didn’t have Amish-made, vegan cranberry pumpkin bread maybe he should try the vegan bakery on lower sixth and even though she got here at five and has already had three encounters that made her put quitting back on the table, and even though she has the same fifty-four word conversation with a dude who chooses to walk this earth with an un ironic rat tail every single morning since she woke up desperate enough to apply here, her voice is calm and polite and even a little regretful, like a tiny part of her feels bad about the fact that a major chain doesn’t carry Amish-made, vegan cranberry pumpkin bread-and then, after all of that Judgey McShower Please still finds enough inner tool bag necessary to take time out of his busy fixie bike tour of the lower east side to pluck one of the little white customer surveys from the pad next to the bucket of skull rings on the counter and fill it out, (resting his weight on the counter like the effort exerted by being a douche exhausts him) making passive aggressive scratching sounds with his pencil as he underlines the phrase “tone was needlessly aggressive” three times. 

 He hands it to her silently, hoists his bike on to his shoulder with one hand, and heads for the door. Trish hopes with all of her might that he rides through Hell’s Kitchen and falls into a construction hole.

As Cammy grapples with the very real possibility of being ‘terminated’ (she has school loans and a cat, and at some point, she kind of wanted to travel-or at least  see a view that wasn’t her elderly neighbors listening to Tony Benet and sucking face.) and Trish tears her eyes away from the ‘well I never’ bluster of  Wall Street Guys trembly rage, (if the vicious way he’s stabbing at his phone is any indication, this melt down is going to be epic) Dez manages to execute the ‘backing away slowly’ move while sitting down. He straightens his shoulders and fold his hands on the table like the last four minutes didn’t happen.

 According to Trish’s Creeper Manual, (545 Pgs., De La Rosa Publishing, $150.00 retail value, all funds go to The Trish De La Rosa foundation) sixty seconds without blinking is classified as a stare.

Trish stares back.

Dez starts humming The Jurassic Park theme.

 Her eyes are in very real danger of rolling out of her head and tumbling across this dirty floor.

 Thirty seconds. Forty-five.

 “Oh my God, what?”

 Dez starts. Smiles. “Oh, I was just wondering what I would look like if I had a carrot for a face.”

 “Do you own a mirror?” She says before she can stop herself.

 Inexplicably (no, she doesn’t want to know) the doof’s grin grows. “Would my face like transform into a carrot or would it just get really orange?”

 “Full on carrot. Trish nods. “Think werewolf but lamer.”

 “I could live with that. I wouldn’t have to worry about getting eaten unless I ran into people who really liked carrots. Ooh, maybe there’s some birth defect that causes people’s faces to turn out vegetable-y! Trish!” He slams his fist on the table, winces real hard, finds the strength to continue. "What if that’s my destiny, to gather all of the down-trodden vegta-people, looked down on, denied their rights simply for being full of folic acid.”

 His voice is rising like a Wonka-vator, gaze full of heroic things only he can see (thank god). She takes a long sip of her coffee, wonders what people lucky enough not to be her are doing right now.

 “Maybe that’s why I was put on this earth, to teach them to love themselves. We’ll live a life free of the judgment of you normies; we’ll build our own colony, with our own laws. He rubs his chin in thought. Maybe we’ll live in a pyramid.”

 “I will pack your bags.”

 “Thank you.”

 Trish leans over, smiling indulgently, pats his hands. “Anything for you buddy.”

 “Aww, His face changes. Wait-“

 “Hey, remember when I told you to scram?”  

 Dez nods, “Was that before or after we planned my future as the pop star impressionist Dezyonce?"

 Deep in the caverns of Trish’s temporal lobes, lies a specific set of neurons responsible for the chemical reaction to strong, talented women being besmirched by fools, thus she is just barely able to resist slapping him in the face with his own hand. Assault is assault after all, and she has the feeling anytime spent in police custody would just result in the gleeful taking of pre and post lock up selfies.

 “Listen Freckles, she intones, in the sweet tone that everyone but the idiot in front of her easily recognizes as the Trish DeLa Rosa, limited edition, “I Will Bury You, Then Innocently Read the Eulogy At Your Funeral With The Kind of Solemn Strength and Dignified Crying That Could Get Me An Oscar” timbre. I know some things-the concept of personal space, how much cologne is too much-are like, totally foreign to you, but if you pay attention, there are these tiny little things called indicators, that can tell you whether or not you’re going in the right direction.”

 He’s doing that rapt attention thing, looking at her with undivided, singular focus  like she’s reading him the bible or describing Zalian VII spoilers or giving him explicit instructions as to how to safely survive the on-coming zombie apocalypse. Trish thinks about this look approximately zero times a day, but if she did the quiet intensity of it, marred somewhat by the eagerness with which he leans over, as though it’s necessary to hear the pauses in her speech, would make the words gently elbowing each other for a prominent spot in her mouth feel incongruous.

 But it doesn’t.

 And they don’t.

 "For example, not only is the amount of Fantasy you’re wearing right now about four times the amount Britney would be caught dead in, but I think we can go ahead and classify it as a biohazard.” Trish straightens her back against her chair. "And it’s weird that you don’t already know this, but “go away” doesn’t mean “oh my god, come closer” in magical, confusing girl language. In general it usually means “go away”, in this specific case, she leans over making sure he’s looking directly into her eyes so there’s no goofy sitcom confusion about this later in the week, “it means the English language hasn’t created a precise set of words that would accurately describe how badly I want you to get out of your chair, and walk away right now.” 

 Trish squares her shoulders. “That’s an indicator.”

 She means for that to be punctuation, to go back to her tablet and if there is a God, maybe, just maybe hear the squeaking of a chair being pushed back and the shuffling of oversized P.F. Flyers, and every other sound of her morning being returned to her.

 But. Dez isn’t looking at her. He’s looking at the hand curled around the collar of his sweater. There is a hand curled around the collar of his sweater and his eyes are trained downward, so he can look at it without moving his head. But then he dips his chin a little, just a couple of inches and it’s hers. Her hand. Trish’s.

 “It’s Curious.”

 “What?”

 “I don’t um, I’m allergic to Fantasy so I only…” His voice tapers off, and Trish, Trish rips her hand away. 

 Dez looks at his hands, spread across the table, wiggles his fingers once, two times.

“So, um…yeah.” The squeaking of the chair legs being dragged across the floor is twice as loud, an unpleasant burst in her ears. The shuffling of worn, size twelve sneakers starts.

 Stops.

 “You want people to be afraid of you," His voice doesn’t tapper off, is calm and quiet and if it shakes only Dez knows for sure. But they aren’t. I know what that is, and no one, nobody’s afraid of you.”

Trish looks at the looping pink cursive of the specials board, Boca patties with bean sprouts, blue cheddar hummus, mushrooms and mozzarella on chibata.

 “People feel sorry for you.”

 Green onions and black bean sauce. Margarita pizza grilled cheese. Spinach and kale mini kiesh. God how many specials does this stupid place have?

 “Everyone feels sorry for you and they just act like they’re afraid, because that’s the politest way to do it. No one would ever say it to your face.”

 The thing Cammy puts above the door isn’t a legitimate bell,  it’s from some dumb door handle Christmas ornament reject thing her mom got her as a sort of homemade alarm system when she moved to Bushwick. Like something that sounds like a cat toy was gonna successfully warn her daughter about intruders. It doesn’t even work. The sound gets lost before it reaches the Beans of Columbia display.

 She sits for a minute. Her index finger brushing against her th-

She sits for a minute. Orders another caramel macchiato ‘cause her first one’s cold. She could heat it up but those coffee microwaves make everything taste weird. Her laptop emits a dissonant buzz that sounds like a choir of atonal bees.

 She doesn't move for a long time.

#the Dade County Arts Council #trish 'rumors of my pro-ginger status have been wildly exaggerated' dilrosa #dez 'modern day Floridian George Bingley' wade #so long to the headstrong #musical woe aus #collegiate grief aus #outlines and outliers #musical mystery inc.

[pkmnwater]

Thing 40a - Forgiveness

~I’ll take with me the Polaroids and the memories, but you know I’m going to leave behind the worst of us.~

[Written June 15, 2018; Posted July 1, 2018] [Part 1 of x] [Note: Contrary to my normal proceedings and conduct, I have not asked for express permission(s) as I normally do from associated parties to this, nor for the following associated writings. Partially because I believe it’d be compromising to, considering my overall plan for the next few posts, part because I believe that’d take away impact from my words, and part because of means. If anyone finds offense to my words, and particular segments are indeed about those complaints, I will make changes to my writing accordingly.]

So sometimes I hate how trivial and uncanny events in my life tend to be, but other times I can’t deny when it seems like I’m supposed to be reading it as some sort of message from the powers that be or something to that affect. This was one of those times.  About a week ago, I had a strange inkling to message an old friend. I didn’t get around to while I had the pull to do it, but I definitely wanted to. Just eventually the words I wanted to say went away. However, as I thought about her, I was reminded of a sort of running joke between the two of us.  ”Y’know, I’m still mad at you, have you figured out why??”

Recently, I’ve been playing a game that has minor buffs simply for being in a clan, but the higher the clan level, the better the perks. In this game, I only have and only intend to play semi-casually and only with my normal playgroup, but I do have another friend that plays in her own clan. I got the idea to combine the two that we have in order to actually activate the perks, but I didn’t want to abandon the one I was in. I absolutely adore the clan name, Yubikiri Genman, one of my touchstone phrases, while on the other hand, my friend’s clan was just a play on/running joke within her group, with the butt of it being an acquaintance whom I wasn’t particularly fond of, so obviously I wouldn’t want to be reminded of him every time I saw my name. When pressed as to why that was, the response I received from my friend and the rest of my playgroup was just to forgive the incident, as I’ve already forgotten.

I’ve finally been able to watch Girl Meets World again after a long time, as we finally got Disney Channel, where the show was shuffled onto there exclusively about three years ago. Incidentally, the first episode I caught since the previous incidents was S2E23: the Forgiveness Project. Huh. Y’see, to me, life is about experiences, new ones that broaden horizons, while repeat scenarios allow us to test our mantle if we’ve learned from our past. The world ends with you, after all. And integral to that, is learning.

Lately I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, moreso than usual, at least in terms of being focused on one specific set of things. It’s been over three years since, I believe, but as of just now, I believe this particular arc has finally come to a close. The difference is that if it was something that mattered to me, I literally cannot forget what and how it happened.

There was once when my character was called into question, a core aspect of myself, a fundamental and archetypal description. It was said of me that I was unable and even inept when it came to social situations, that I could never get along with others and just “jump in” as it were. At the time, I knew myself that that probably wasn’t the case, but I had no empirical evidence to the contrary, and up until that far, I had no intentions on having otherwise. I kept to myself as often as possible, and liked that, a casual observer may think I was withdrawn, I could understand that. But for someone who was supposed to know me better than that, either there was something horribly wrong with me, or I wasn’t presenting my best self, a sin within itself. Of course, me being me, I shouldered those words, taking the blame onto myself, and the guilt of the thought. Someone had negative thoughts about me, I assumed there must’ve been valid reason, so I took responsibility and said I was at fault for putting that negativity there, or at least allowing it to happen. But another part of me, scorned yet galvanized by the thought, realized that my core personality was being questioned, especially on a matter and context I knew was fundamentally wrong. Inside, deep at the time, but at least somewhere inside, I knew the kind of person I was. Yet, I let the words get to me, and even still, I began to question myself. It wasn’t entirely bad, I suppose, I did use that inspiration to push myself into a few unique experiences that I otherwise wouldn’t have done, and I’m definitely better off for it. [The password to this account is even partially a trespass of that, strange how things turn out.] Despite spending a long time believing I had long since been over what happened and the fallout from the result, I guess the words had always stuck with me. Every so often, I do go back to that day when things were said. I believed for way too long that there must’ve been grains of truth in the words, and I tend to give the benefit of the doubt to certain people long past the point it’s due, while still shouldering everything on myself. I blamed myself for so much for so long, part because of guilt, part by nature. One of the reasons I’ve held onto it for so long was because of what I believed was the nature of forgiveness. The relief from wrong doing, the excuse from guilt. When I’m forgiven for something, typically I feel that, right?? I assumed that was more or less universally the case. [But that only applies when the person who’s done wrong holds themselves accountable for what happened; a separate line of thought I might explore in the future.] For me, I internalized not being forgiven as a reason to keep punishing myself for allowing things to go wrong. Never free from the guilt. I kept that for myself until such a time that I’d be worth forgiveness. Not from her, but from myself. Maya: I'm sorry. I failed. I know you wanted me to forgive him, but I didn't. I couldn't do it. You were wrong about this one, Mr. Matthews. Cory: I never expected that, Maya. That kind of forgiveness, it doesn't come so easy. But life is a long time, and I hope you get there someday. But that's never what I was looking for right now. Maya: What did you want from me? Cory: Maya, did you forgive yourself? Boy/Girl Meets World, nails it on the head every time I’ve needed it to for some direction to think about. It’s made me a better person.

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Not my best writing, and I’m horribly out of practice at that, as it’s been a very long while since I’ve been able to write for myself. But here’s just some thoughts I wanted to get out, and I haven’t figured out how to polish off. Excuse me.

#p:ng #things #thing4x #thing #girlmeetsworld #boymeetsworld #forgiveness #thing40 #thing40a

[tealeaves-rp]

Welcome to Tea Leaves RP, KAY, please grab a pot and pour a cup for yourself and ANDROMEDA MULCIBER!

We are excited to see your take on Andromeda to the game with both her interpersonal (Mulciber, Ted, Mary!) and external goals (Wixen rights...and how that collides with Narcissa). We’ll be in contact to confirm your FC choice and birthdate/age.

II. CHARACTER STATS:

NAME: Andromeda Isabel Mulciber, née Black. Her sisters are allowed to call her Andie, as is Ted Tonks. Dromeda is used mainly by Ted. Any other nicknames earn her immediate wrath.

BIRTHDATE/AGE: 

GENDER IDENTITY & PRONOUNS: cis-female; she/her/hers pronouns

WAND: Upon her wedding to William Mulciber, Andie had to leave the wands at her childhood home and as of yet has not had a chance to replace them. She does have a goal of getting to Ollivander’s and getting one sometime but that time hasn’t presented itself yet.

III. DESIRED CHANGES (if none, leave blank):

CHARACTER CHANGES:

FC CHANGES: I’m having a hard time connecting with Rachel Brosnahan, although if you’re really set on her, I’m sure I can make her work. Some alternatives I thought might suit Andromeda are Astrid Berges-Frisbey, Emeraude Toubia, and Crystal Reed.

IV. CHARACTERIZATION DETAILS:

SOCIAL POSITION:

Andie is near the upper echelons of society - the wife to a distinguished man, the daughter of a distinguished family. She’s nearly untouchable, and quite a popular hostess and guest - even if she tends to be a little less enthusiastic when out and about than people might prefer. She likes it well enough though; there’s a power in having a say in fashion and fad, and she likes the money and trinkets that fill her life. If that might be a reason she ended up following through with her marriage … well, Andie doesn’t like to think about such unpleasant things.

EDUCATION:

Andie loved school - she would have liked a public schooling, of course, and the chance to learn a history that was less sanitized than what Druella allowed through the house, but she was happy enough as it was. She applied herself whole-heartedly to everything taught by the tutors and thrived when given free reign to pursue other courses on her own. To this day, she can often be found in the library at her new home - never the public library, of course. Nose in a book, Andie is forever trying to broaden her horizons.

Additionally, she did well in the wixen training. Andie loved the chance to study magic at all, and she proved adept at it. In fact, a lot of her personal studies tended toward that as well. She found the history of magic fascinating and wished there was more formal training for it. Even now, as a married woman, she does her best to practice and study as necessary.

The only negative side to her education is that Andie rarely felt like she had been sufficiently challenged - nothing was quite hard enough. Things came too easily to her, so she kept pushing and pushing in hopes of finding something to keep her occupied.

DAILY GRIND:

As a society wife, having grown up as a society daughter, Andie’s life didn’t change much after marriage. She fills it with the usual - shopping, social functions, hosting tea at her new home, and any evening entertainment that her husband agrees to attend. Her favorite nights are the ones when William chooses to stay home and Andie can make her way out on her own. She most often goes to see Ted those nights, and trusts that Cissa will back up any alibi Andie needs for when her adventures keep her out a little later than normal.

THE TEA:

Chai: Every morning for nearly as long as she can remember, Andromeda has started the morning with a bracing cup of chai tea, taken with a splash of milk and a pinch of sugar. When she’s feeling poorly, she’ll add something to boost her health; when she’s lacking sleep, thanks to late nights in the theater, she’ll add something for alertness.

Notice Me Not: This is one of Andie’s specialties - take a traditional black tea and add the right ingredients, and you have the perfect blend for slipping through crowded streets without notice. She always brewed it before heading out to the theater, under the pretense of needing something to help her sleep at night. It’s not fool-proof, but it does the trick and lasted long enough to see her to the theater district. She has yet to try brewing it at her new home, simply because she doesn’t want to take the risk of drawing undue attention to herself in doing so.

GOALS:

Personal: Andromeda would like to learn what’s going on with her husband and the maid specifically - obviously they’re sleeping together, but she wants to know why and how long it’s been going on and honestly as much as possible about the whole thing.

Global: She would like to be more involved in the wix rights issues. It was never really that important to Andie - she was more interested in the theater and Teddy than wix rights - but Andie is starting to wonder if it might not be helpful to her cause of getting out of Mulciber’s house again.

Both: This goal somewhat pertains to both, but Andie would like to figure out a way out of her marriage (divorce is such an ugly word but she’s willing to embrace it if necessary)

V. CHARACTER  INTRODUCTION:

“William, darling, did we plan to go to the theater tonight?” Andromeda stepped through the door - Andromeda, not Andie, because she was dressed in a lovely green frock and delicate heels, fastening the sparkling silver earrings in her earlobes as she sent a questioning look in her husband’s direction. She knew very well that they did not plan to go but that wasn’t really the point of the question. The point of the question was to show him that she was going. At his blank expression, she let out a little sigh and dropped her eyes. “I was so looking forward to the play - it’s a classic and one of my favorites but they have apparently put a new spin on it and I think -”

William shut her off, waving his hand absently as his attention turned back to his work. She’d known he would do it, of course; he so rarely wanted to attend the theater with her, but the exercise wasn’t about his actual attendance. “Are you sure you don’t mind, darling? I do so hate to think of you here alone while I’m out enjoying myself.” But her words were superfluous and fell on deaf ears, as she’d known they would. She wanted to give him a reason not to expect her til later, and even when he did attend the theater with her, she made sure to keep him out as late as possible. “I believe Cissy and I are getting something to eat afterward - I thought the three of us were but I’m sure she’ll be fine if it’s just the two of us. Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Another wave sent Andromeda on her way, stepping daintily through the main doors.

Andromeda continued until she was in the theater district, and then she shed the mask. Andie loved the theater district; it was invigorating and exciting and gave her the rush of excitement that had always been lacking in her life. Her footsteps quickened until she all but ran through the back entrance to the theater, unfastening the earrings as quickly as she had fastened them as she kicked off her shoes in favor of the well-worn flats that she left here. “Teddy?” Her eyes, still adjusting to the dimmer lighting inside, strained to make out the familiar figure and when she did, the final pieces of the mask fell away easily. Her arms wound around Teddy’s neck easily and Andie was home.

VI. MUN BACKGROUND QUESTIONS:

What is your ideal game? My most preferred HP rp is a post-Hogwarts Marauders rp that either follows canon or is somewhat AU. I love that era and there’s a lot of room to grow. I’m also really fond of HP next gen rps. So in this rp, I honestly love the AU setting because it gives a lot of wiggle room and chance to explore the characters without having the weight of knowing exactly where they have to go in life.

What is your least favorite element of this game? I feel like a lot of really interesting characters are missing - like the Prewetts, the Malfoys, a lot of the other characters who we see mentioned. But that’s not really a problem either, especially since they can be added. (I’d love to see Bella in the rp, honestly.)

I chose this character because… I love Andromeda Black. She’s probably my favorite HP character, and this rp has a really unique spin on her. I love the fact that she’s married to Mulciber but in love with Ted, and I really love that Ted is a girl in this rp. I usually don’t get into rps that are so AU - I like semi-canon ones but I saw this rp in the tags a few weeks ago and honestly haven’t gotten it out of my head since then.

#TeaAccept #andromeda black #andromeda black bio

[secretlystephaniebrown]

Time’s Running Out: Kilo

IT'S STILL THE SECOND IN MY TIME ZONE I MADE MY GOAL.

Today marks the 8th anniversary of my participation in fandom! Hell yeah, kid me had no idea what she was getting into when she started writing ATLA OC fic.

Summary: The Reds and Blues; and their respective Freelancers, find themselves stranded on a strange planet named Chorus. Secrets, lies, and the unexpected seem to lie around every corner, and there might be even larger threats looming over the horizon.

They’re possibly even less ready for Chorus than Chorus is for them.

Pairings: Lots of friendships, Suckington, Yorkalina, Chex, eventual Yorkimbalina, possible others.

Start

Previous

Ao3

Things were finally starting to calm down. Tucker’s stomach was finally okay, although he had a pretty big, nasty looking scar.

Kai tried not to look at it that much. It wasn’t fair, she knew, because Wash had loads of scars and they didn’t freak her out at all, but this one… it was different somehow. Because she’d seen it happen, she’d seen Tucker crumple to the ground, she’d heard the sounds he’d made as the knife had gone in. Wash’s scars were older. They were faded. They were from before.

Kai hadn’t nearly lost Wash for any of those scars. Well, she had, but she hadn’t had to watch.

Armonia was okay. They had their own room and that meant they could have a lot of fun. They all had a bunch of promises and fantasies to live up to now that they were all together. But deep down, there was always something small and hard at the bottom of Kai’s stomach. It wasn’t like Valhalla; those days had been always touched with a slight glow in her memories. They were just good.

Even now, her face buried in Wash’s chest and her fingers tangled with Tucker’s, Kai couldn’t stop thinking about how Locus and Felix were inches away from trying to take this away from her. They were going to try to destroy this; them specifically and everything and everyone around them.

It made Kai almost glad when Doyle and Kimball called them all into the war room.

There was a nervous hum in the air; there were representatives of all armies. Lots of squad leaders; people who Wash had trained when they were with the Feds. A bunch of Donut’s friends too. The El-Tees were there, each of them sticking by their captains.

Kai stuck close to Wash, with the others who weren’t affiliated with either sides. York was the only one of them who’d been with the New Republic who wasn’t with a squad. Kai frowned, wondering about that, but refocused her energy on Kimball. She was hot, Kai decided quickly. She’d only had a few brief interactions with Kimball previously; things had been busy. But Kimball had visited Tucker a few times, which made her okay in Kai’s book. She had been worried about him.

“It’s been weeks now,” Kimball said, hands clasped behind her back. “We’re settled in as well as we can. And now General Doyle and I are in agreement that it’s time we begin to take action.”

Doyle nodded. “We’ve received word of a large cache of supplies, including ammunition. Which, I’m afraid to say, we are in grave need of.”

“But we also have had word about some… strange activity from the alien artifacts on the other side of the planet,” Kimball said. “Our current plan is to send a small, elite scouting force to see what they can find on that side of the planet, while organizing another, larger force to go after the supplies.”

“We’ll also be having a force remaining here at Armonia,” Doyle interrupted, and Kimball shot him a look which Kai could identify as a stink-eye a mile away. They’d fought over that, she guessed. Maybe a lot.

“The scouting mission would be volunteers only,” Kimball said. “We’ve been getting… strange reports from that area.”

“Whoa, hold up there, what kind of strange?” Dex called. “Are we talking like, alien bullshit strange or just “we’ve got no fucking clue” strange, because let me tell you, last time we got alien bullshit strange, someone got pregnant, and let’s not repeat that.”

“Captain Grif,” Kimball said, and oh boy, she wasn’t happy with Dex.

“I’m afraid the reports are inconclusive,” Doyle said apologetically. “A few small patrols have gone missing in the area. Those who have reported back have made mentions of… bears.”

“Which is why the force needs to be small and elite,” Kimball said. “We need them to be able to move quickly and be able to handle themselves should any trouble arise.”

“We volunteer!” Sarge said immediately.

“We, Colonel?” Doyle asked, looking at Kimball as he said it. Had they been hoping the Freelancers would go?

“Sure thing! Me and the boys would be happy to go! And the girl, if Red here wants to come with,” Sarge said, slapping a hand on Carolina’s shoulder.

Carolina shook her head. “I think I’ll be more useful with the supplies team,” she said. “Plus, if it’s a pirate cache, there might be more of that Freelancer technology there.”

And so began the usual bickering about who was going where. In the end though, it split up just as Kai had figured it would, after Sarge had volunteered the Reds for the scouting mission. The Reds and Blues, minus the Freelancers and plus Doctor Hot Stuff, were going to check out aliens. The Freelancers and Kimball were going to the cache.

Doyle and the El-Tees were all planning on staying back in Armonia to try to keep the peace and hold down the fort. And possibly have an orgy, but Kai was pretty sure her suggestion on that front was going to be ignored, so she wouldn’t get her hopes up.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t come with you two?” Wash asked, looking at Kai and Tucker nervously. “I can probably switch…”

“Dude, they’re both short runs,” Tucker said. He placed his hand against Wash’s visor and pushed him back slightly. “We’ll be home soon. Besides, Kimball’s gonna need you to have her back.”

Wash hesitated, before nodding in agreement. “Just… be safe. Both of you.”

“What’s to worry about?” Simmons said. All of them turned their heads to look at him. He was standing right next to Dex, just far enough away that it wasn’t obvious that they wanted to be holding hands, even though (duh) they clearly wanted to. “We’ve got four Freelancers on our side. It’s going to be fine.”

Dex let out a long, agonized groan. “We’re all gonna die now,” he said.

“What?” Simmons demanded.

Kai swallowed, and hugged Wash tightly.

Things were going to be fine.

The trek out to the cache was long and awkward as could be expected when York was in the same warthog as Kimball.

York had been avoiding her since… everything. Large meetings only, and certainly no situations which involved him in the shotgun position and Kimball driving. There was a Fed behind them in the gunner position, a kid named Dulles, which only made it more awkward. Because York wasn’t about to apologize, no matter how much he might have wanted to, not with a Fed in the back.

He’d met Dulles briefly in Armonia, sneaking around the edges of the meetings. Dulles could have been intelligence in another life, York and Delta were in complete agreement on that. She was quiet and slender, and favored knives in a way that kind of reminded York of Connie. The gunner position didn’t suit her, but York wasn’t about to ask Kimball for control of a powerful weapon. She was antsy enough in this position, with him close enough to slide a knife into her ribs. Her glances in his direction were twitchy and frequent.

He tried not to think too hard about why she’d even gotten into the warthog in the first place. It was probably to keep an eye on him or something like that.

There was a ping on his channel with Tex.

TX: have u tried pickup lines.

NY: please don’t

TX: ;)

NY: who are you and what have you done with my best friend

TX: <3

NY: you’re a terrible person you know that

NY: I’m ignoring you now

TX: boring

York glanced over at Kimball again. These past few weeks had clearly taken a toll on her. Her entire body was tense. The kind of tense that Carolina had been, those last few weeks at Freelancer before York had left. But at least when Carolina had been like this, York had been able to help somewhat. He’d been able to try to make her laugh, to try to rub some of the aches and tension out of her shoulders, to let her pin him to the wall.

He shoved the last one aside viciously, because those thoughts and Kimball were not compatible. Those thoughts and Carolina were hardly compatible these days.

Of all the things that he’d have thought Felix would screw up, York had to admit that his love life would not be one of them. But in hindsight, that was stupid of him. It was exactly the sort of thing that Felix would do.

“We’re approaching the nav point,” Kimball said.

York tapped his foot as quietly as he could. “Any sign of hostiles?”

“We’re expecting a small force,” Kimball said for a second, it was like she wasn’t furious at him. “No sign yet.”

York nodded, then turned back away before she could remember that he had lied to her.

“Private Dulles,” Kimball said suddenly, and there was the bite, the anger. She wasn’t happy she’d forgotten. “I need you to go rendevouz with Agent Washington. You’re going to be on the advanced team.”

“Yes ma’am!” Dulles said. At least she was one of the polite Feds. York had been hearing rumors. Not that anyone was dumb enough to badmouth Kimball in front of him, but he’d been hearing things. York could practically see the smirk on Dulles’ face as she began to launch herself onto the next warthog, clearly intending to leapfrog through the wave of cards until she reached Wash.

York laughed as he realized that Kimball had not been expecting that, given the spluttering that was emerging from her helmet. He stopped as soon as she turned her helmet to him, radiating coldness and a quiet, stern fury.

“Sorry,” York said.

“For what, Agent York?” Kimball snapped.

York looked away.

The cache was in a mountainous region, but still in the rainforest. It was far away from anywhere on Chorus that York had been before. The supplies were supposed to be in a cave, with a small guard force at the mouth of it.

York shifted in his seat as he stared at the natural beauty of Chorus, not looking at Kimball. A thousand confessions were heavy on his tongue. If anyone deserved to know his sins, surely it was her. “I…”

Because the universe had a sense of humor, that was the moment that York noticed the faintly paler patches in the dirt of the road they were driving on. York shot up on his feet, his good eye darting back and forth in accordance with Delta’s readings. “Mines!” He screamed into his radio. His heart was hammering in his chest, pushing aside his guilt. “Landmines, it’s a—”

The first line of warthogs hit the landmines with a deafening noise. York and Kimball didn’t hit one of them directly, but the shockwave still sent them backwards.

York and Kimball both scrambled out of the warthog. “Damn it!” Kimball snarled. “Agent York, Agent Carolina, get your AI moving, we need to see if we can map our way through this—”

That was when the first sniper shot went off.

Kimball saw it before York did, his back turned as he was to the nest.

“Get down!” Kimball yelled, and York let out a howl of pain as the bullet passed right through his left shoulder. He and Kimballl hit the ground hard, her lying on top of him. “Harris!”

York let out a loud gasp. “Dee—”

“Healing unit active,” Delta reassured both of them. Kimball’s hands were pressed over the wound. The blood was staining her pale armor. “Thank you for your quick thinking, General Kimball. The bullet’s trajectory would have been… fatal.”

Kimball’s breathing was heavy. “Someone take out that sniper!” She called into her radio. Around them, more bullets were flying. There were screams. A few more of the mines went off. “A trap,” she muttered, still on top of York, still trying to put pressure on the wound. “This was a—”

<Lucky again, Foxtrot?> A voice, soft and distinctly familiar, came in through the radio. From the stiffness of Kimball’s spine, she was hearing it too. York could just hope he wasn’t broadcasting on all channels.

Of all the ghosts from his past, it figured it would be him. “Siris,” York gasped out. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

<You’re supposed to be dead, Foxtrot,> Siris’ voice was perfectly calm, but there was rage beneath the surface. York had always been decent at telling Siris’ moods; it had been practice for North, in a way, learning to tell when the amiable sniper was about to lose his temper. <I figure I’d make sure that you got what you deserve.>

Kimball was staring down at him, clearly on the verge of a thousand questions. “Kimball,” he said urgently, ignoring the hammering of his heart in his chest, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, ignoring Siris’s voice echoing in his mind. “We need to get out of here.”

For a moment, she just stared at him, and he half wondered, in a dizzy moment, if she was going to just shoot him and be done. Kill him before any more of his sins came back to haunt the armies of Chorus. Maybe they’d all be better off that way.

But then there was a blaze of gunfire, and Carolina leapt into sight. Kimball’s head snapped up, breaking the moment with York, and the thought dissipated quickly. “Sniper’s gone,” she reported, breathing heavily. There was no sign of Epsilon, but there were streaks of soot on her armor. She must have been close to one of the landmines. “One of the Feds took out the nest with a chain gun, but they were already gone.”

“He,” York said. His own voice sounded faint and distant to his ears.

Carolina paused, staring at him. Kimball was still lying on top of him, practically straddling in, and his blood was everywhere. “You’re hurt,” she said. She sounded oddly quiet, in a way that York couldn’t place or make sense of.  

“He,” York repeated, because if he focused on anything else he might lose consciousness or start panicking, and they couldn’t afford either of those things. “It’s Siris, another one of… he was… he’s like me.”

“Later!” Kimball snapped, but her grip on his shoulder had turned painful.  “We need to pull everybody out of here. What’s the status?”

“They’re trying to circle us,” Epsilon reported. For a second, York thought that his projection was staticky, but he must have imagined it, because when he looked again, the avatar was clear as day. “We’ve still got a gap letting us retreat, but we don’t have much time. We’ve got to move!”

“Go,” Carolina said to Kimball, bending down. “I’ve got York.”

“Let someone else do it!” Epsilon howled, but that was the extent of his protests. Ha. York knew he’d grow on him. Delta hummed in his veins, irritated and worried in equal parts. Delta knew what Siris meant.

Kimball nodded stiffly, then got off York and walked away. For a moment, York missed the weight of her, before he pushed that thought so deep down it would take one of Sarge’s fancy drills to dig it up again. Delta had stopped the bleeding at least, so he didn’t need to keep holding it, but he probably should get patched up soon.

Carolina pulled him to his feet, and York sagged against her. It was a familiar position, his arm looped around her waist. Even the blood didn’t make it unfamiliar, but there was a hardness between them that there had never been before. York had broken this. He had broken them. He had managed to destroy one of the few good things he had, and these secrets had possibly destroyed it beyond repair. He swallowed, and held on tighter, dizzy with bloodloss. The mines had stopped exploding at least, even if there’s still plenty of gunfire. But at least a part of those guns are from their side, so York just leans against Carolina as she half drags him, half helps him away from the chaos, and listens to Kimball shout and try to corral the army into a retreat.

A message pinged in the corner of his HUD.

But this time it wasn’t from Tex.

Felix: did u rlly think it would be that easy foxy?

It had been a trap. All of it; the weeks of recon, the supplies—it had been a trap, and they had fallen for it.

And Wash hadn’t been able to raise Tucker or Kai or any of the others since they’d figured out what was happening.

The pirates chased them back, and Wash tried not to freak out at their losses. The warthogs were bad enough, but he hadn’t gotten a casualty count. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Sir!” Fredericks, one of the Feds who had taken the gunner position on their warthog. “We’ve got to start conserving ammunition on return fire! We’re running low.”

Wash bit his tongue. “Not much farther, soldier!” He shouted. Armonia was quickly growing closer. Once they were inside the walls, they would be safe.

“Open the gates!” Kimball ordered through their radios. “Towers, get ready, we’re pursued!”

Wash had never been so grateful for a city’s defenses as he was at that moment, when the towering gates of Armonia swung open. There would be two layers of walls between them and the pirates soon enough.

As they passed through the gates and entered the deadzone, Wash realized something.

“Locus knows the traps,” Wash said.

“No he doesn’t!” Dulles, the driver, said with a whooping laugh as she slammed on the brakes. “We’ve been changing them up, don’t you worry Agent Washington! Your girlfr—uh, Private Grif has been helping us with that.”

Wash didn’t react to the near-slip, but instead leapt out of the warthog to go towards the others for answers.

“What’s happening?” He demanded.

Kimball was standing there, with Carolina on one side and a Rebel soldier on the other.

“Go, find Doyle,” Kimball ordered the soldier, who snapped a salute and took off. “We’re still trying to figure that out, Washington.”

“We were set up,” Texas snapped, decloaking suddenly. Kimball jumped and swore, one hand going to her weapon. “I just got off the wall,” she added. “They’re not moving.”

Kimball’s eyes flickered up to the top of the wall, doubtlessly wondering how Tex had made it down from there so quickly. Wash didn’t say anything. If Tex wanted everybody to know that her body was inorganic, that was her own business.

“How much did we lose?” Carolina asked.

“We’re still figuring it out,” Kimball said. Her voice was bleak but steady. “We lost more in the retreat.”

“Most of the casualties were equipment, sir,” a woman with orange stripes on her armor reported. One of Grif’s then. “We got lucky; a lot of people on the front line managed to hit the breaks before we hit the mines thanks to Agent York and Delta’s warning.”

Tex’s head snapped up. “Where is York?”

“Here, Tex,” York said. His arm was in a crude sling, and his armor was covered in blood. A shoulder wound.

Tex was standing very, very still. “Locus?” She asked, her voice careful and controlled.

York shook his head. “Someone else.”

Kimball shot him a look that Wash couldn’t decipher, but he didn’t have time because Doyle had just arrived.

“Thank goodness, you’re all alright!” Doyle said, breathing heavily. “I just came from the south—I’m—they’ve got tanks on the other side of the river!”

Kimball’s spine straightened suddenly, and she stared up at the sky.

“We need to get inside now,” she said. “They’re sieging us.”

“What?” Wash said.

“They’re going to try to starve us out or break down the walls—or—or something. But we neeed to get inside, because they might try a bombing run, and we need to figure this out.”

“We’re trapped,” Carolina said, quietly.

“Yes,” Kimball said. And then she and Doyle both started walking in the direction of the headquarters.

The four freelancers stared at each other. One thought was clearly on all of their minds.

The Reds and Blues were on their own.

#Steph Writes #The BFF Verse #Kaikaina Grif #Agent York #Agent Washington #Suckington #Yorkimbalina