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ladykailitha · 7 months

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Find My Shade By the Moonlight Part 1

Hello, hello! I bit off more than I could chew trying to get this done by today. But! Here is the first part. They'll be shorter than my usual because it fits the story better.

The title comes from Voodoo by Godsmack, of which was used as the credit song in the first season of the series.

Hazing clouds rain on my head

Empty thoughts fill my ears

Find my shade by the moonlight

Why my thoughts aren't so clear?

The story takes place in a universe where the show continued past the two seasons it was given and is set in 2006. It is also set where the events of the first four seasons happened to other people, but their lives mirror the lives of the people in 1986.

Summary: In the fifth season of the landmark MTV series Fear, they take five college age adults and drop them into the ghost town that is now Hawkins, IN. After the earthquake in 1986 the town was evacuated due to a leak at the now defunct Hawkins Lab.

Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan must now complete tasks or dares over the next two nights, tapping out before completing the task forfeits your chance at $5000. All five will be tested to their limits, but will any of them come out of the experience unchanged?

****

Steve heard rustling around him as he was sat down on a very dusty sofa. He coughed a bit, but it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.

They had been told that they had to wait until the grandfather clock chimed the hour before they were allowed to remove their blindfolds.

The rustling continued, but in a restless way instead of a simple being moved around way.

The grandfather clock chimed four o’clock in the hallway and Steve pulled off his blindfold.

He was in a large front room that had faded blue carpeting and matching sofas and arm chairs. In front of him was table that had a bunch of equipment and a velvet covered board that had five colored bands. Behind the table was a weird tower that had a screen on it.

Around him were two boys and two girls. The first of the girls had choppy blonde hair and bright blue eyes that sparkled with a mischief that had Steve fighting back a smile. Her style was what his mother called Bohemian. Which he always thought was the polite way of saying eclectic. She had rings and necklaces and bangles everywhere to match her clothes.

The second of the girls also had blue eyes, but short dark curly hair instead of blonde. She wore black slacks and a plain white button down, the sleeves went to her elbow and it was buttoned all the way to her neck. Peaking out of the collar was a simple heart pendant that fell right below the second button.

Steve could feel his cheeks flush when she noticed him looking at her. He turned his attention to the boys. The first one was a quiet boy with light hair and dark brown eyes. He wore jeans and t-shirt with a simple chain around his neck.

He contrasted hard with the remaining boy. He had big brown eyes and long, dark, curly hair. The leather jacket and ripped jeans only completed the look of the many chains and necklaces he was wearing. His hands fiddled nervously with the many rings on his fingers. His Cupid bow lips were set in a firm line, framed by dimples that where there even when he wasn’t smiling.

Steve forced himself to look away.

“Welcome, everyone,” came the robotic male voice that sounded vaguely British. The screen in front of them lit up and the words appeared on the screen as they were being spoken.

“You will each be assigned a random color,” the voice continued. “That color will be randomly chosen to do dares. You will be outfitted with personal cameras that will record you when you are out doing dares. You will be given a dare and time to do it in. If you fail to do the dare in the time limit or you become too frightened and wish to tap out, you will out of the game.”

They all looked at each other nervously.

“You each have the opportunity to win $5000,” the voice said. “This isn’t a ‘the less people you have the more money you get’ situation. If all of you tap out, a new team will be brought in to finish the dares.”

They all nodded.

“You will eat or sleep only during the day,” the voice continued. “Because all dares will be done at night.”

There was some murmuring about that, but Steve stayed silent. That’s what he figured it would be like.

“Because you arrived late in the evening, you will get one day to get to know each other and get set up for the dares.”

Steve breathed out a sigh of relief on that one. That would definitely make this easier. He wasn’t the only one that thought so as there were a couple others that nodded at that too.

“I will call you’re name,” the voice said, “and assign your color. Remember this random and no exchanging colors.”

There below the TV with talking voice were five armbands of different colors.

“Nancy your color is red.”

The dark-haired girl stood up and took the red band. She walked back to her seat and sat down, all without a word.

“Jonathan, your color is green.”

Jonathan cocked his head with a half shrug. He grabbed the green band and sat down on the arm of the sofa Steve was sitting on instead of going back to the chair they had put them in.

“Robin, your color is purple.”

“Could be worse,” she muttered as she got up to grab her band. “It could be pink.”

Steve grinned. He liked her already. Even Nancy hid her smile behind her hand.

“Eddie your color is black.”

The last remaining of Steve’s companions jumped up, pumping the air. “Score!” He skipped over to it and smirked at the last color on the table.

He made his way back to his chair, his knee starting to bounce almost instantly.

“Steve your color is yellow.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Like there was any other color left.” But he dutifully grabbed the remaining band.

“Tomorrow at sunset, you will don the gear in front of you and be assigned dares,” the voice said. “Until then rest, relax get to know each other. There are five bedrooms and three bathrooms as well as fully stocked kitchen. This is the only place that will have electricity and will be considered your safe house.”

“When will we find out where we are?” Nancy asked.

“Tomorrow morning. Until then everyone, get some rest. You’ll need it.”

And then computer turned off.

Robin stretched and yawned. “Fuck, I’m tired. I could sleep for days!”

Steve shook his head. “I’m going to stay up and sleep after they tell us where we are, so my body could adjust to the schedule of sleeping during the day and being awake at night.”

The rest of the group stared at him in shock.

“And how would you know that, pretty boy?” Eddie asked with a little sneer.

Steve sighed. He was about to lose the chance getting along with at least half of them with his next words. “My parents would take me with them on business trips and that how you avoid getting jetlag.”

“So are you rich?” Robin asked.

Steve shrugged. “My parents are. Me not so much anymore.”

“They toss you out?” Jonathan asked, kicking the sofa with the heel that was draped over the arm of the sofa.

Steve bit his lip. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth and narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but Nancy spoke first.

“He’s right about the jetlag thing though,” she said. “I travel a lot as a journalist and a new schedule can fuck you up good.”

Robin rubbed her chin. “I think that’s kinda the point though.”

They all stared at her like she was crazy.

“Now hear me out,” she said, her hands in the air. “The more tired we are, the more likely we are to get scared at whatever it is they throw at over the next couple of nights.”

“So you’re telling me,” Eddie said slowly, “that if we follow pretty boy’s plan, we can last longer in the scares?”

Robin nodded.

“I’m down,” Jonathan said.

Everyone agreed.

“So what’s the plan with staying awake, then?” Robin asked, turning to Steve.

He grinned.

****

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #fear mtv #fusion

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everlesslahote1 · 3 years

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“I’d do it all over again sir” (Paul Lahote) -Request

“Could I get a Paul x reader set in eclipse where he imprints on an old friend of Carlisle who is a vamp/shifter but the wolves don’t know that and she is sassy but he try’s to fight the imprint then in the fight she is badass and shifts and he and the wolves are just kind of in awe...abit of angst but fluff ending?”

-Umm ofc you lovely being, this caught my eye and I was like “omg I love this” so this should be fun. Only thing I am going to change is the x reader and make this a oc and if it bothers you to much let me know and ill change it, Thank you❤.

Paul Lahote x oc

(warning: None that I know of)

-Enjoy!

“Nila, to what do I own this pleasure?” Carlisle said who was happy but confused to see his old friend when her coven was in Utah.

Him and his family now stood on the porch of their lovely home looking up at the girl who clung to a tall tree after hearing the ruckus she rumbled in the woods.

“You know words get around Car , What’s this newborn battle I’m hearing about” she said jumping from the tall tree she was handing from.

“A team up with the wolfs to kick newborn ass, duh” Emmet said as he leaned on the on the banister.

Nila smirked before dropping her face.

He and Nila never really saw eye to eye but they wouldn’t say they ‘hated’ each other just a firm dislike.

He was going to be the biggest in the house but not the toughest, he wanted to give it a go after not seeing her for a while,

“If it isn’t the dumbest Cullen or... should I give that to Edward for falling in love a human” she said looking between Emmet and Edward with her light brown eyes.

Since she wasn’t fully Vampire she didn’t have to drink blood, she could live off human food too.

She only chose human food because she knew everyone’s input on vampires, they all think their sum blood thirsty monster’s.

Her skin wasn’t hot to the touch but wasn’t ice cold either, it was warm like A perfect day to wear a sundress to the beach.

“Why don’t you come in, we were just discussing our plans” Carlisle said with a open hand to the door of his home.

She gave a warm smile to Esme, Rose, Alice, and Jasper which they kindly returned, while she shot a bird at Emmet and not even taking notice to Edward a second time as she stepped into their home.

“Hasn’t changed a bit” she said more to her self looking around.

“so their after Edwards walking blood bag, Why?” Nila said now knowing everything but why they were coming for Bella.

“We have no idea” Carlisle said ignoring the snarky comment from his friend, he knew how she was about anything new and a human in love with a vampire is new for everybody.

She rolled her eye’s, looking over at the window, there stood a huge tan man in a muscle shirt with cut off jean shorts and black shoes.

His hair was cut low and he smelled of woods and sweat.

“I take it he’s the wolf she lead on while pale face ran off” she said now looking back at Esme.

“Okay how long does she need to stay I mean really, all she’s doing is making comments on everything!” Bella said as Rose chuckled and Nila smirked.

Rose was known for getting under Bella’s skin so she enjoyed watching others do as such, when they first met she knew she had to befriend this little ball of fire.

This is just adding to their bond.

“Hold your tongue or I’ll throw you to the little monsters myself, if anything I’m helping save your ass” She said only half joking on first part.

Which was true, she was helping but she wasn’t doing it for Bella, she was doing it to pay Carlisle back for saving her life almost 60 years ago.

Carlisle found a 16 year old Nila beaten and bruised by her abusive uncle who took her in after her parents died, left for dead in a alley way like she was nothing.

She was beaten so bad, he soon turned her seeing it was the only thing to save her life, all without knowing she would turn into a massive wolf.

It caused problem’s for him and Esme, her anger toward the man who left her for dead almost controlling her making her faze at least 7 times a day.

Then being something that even the oldest of vampire’s have never heard of, the first of her kind and the only.

A Wolf with the same abilities as a vampires.

A hybrid.

After she learned to control her heightened emotions, Carlisle gave her a choice to stay but she wanted to see the world.

And that he understood.

So she left, later finding a small Vampire coven who soon became her family but she never forgot bout the Cullen Coven, the people who saved her life.

Bella swallowed hard before a glaring Edward grabbed her hand and walked out the room.

“I still like you, I still like her” Rose said smirking at her mate which caused him to roll his eyes.

“we train with the wolfs tomorrow at noon in a open field, be ready” Jasper said as the family walked the hybrid to the door of their home.

“See’ya soldier” she said as her small figure disappears into the night.

The Next Day...

“Again!” Nila watched Emmet shout at Jasper after losing a match.

“hey, maybe you should give it a break. Ya know? before you pop a bicep” Nila said as she leaned on a tree , not to far back.

Emmet groaned trying to ignore the smart mouth women as his mate kisses his cheek and patted his shoulder.

“Don’t be a sore loser babe” she said smirking as she smiled with Nila.

Rosalie was really liking Nila being around, it was fun having someone to be a buddy with even though the others were dreading it or didn’t pay it any mind she was here.

Everyone treated Rose like she was bomb, one wrong move and the blonde would blow up in everyone’s face.

Which was kind of true but she liked the fact that Nila treated her normally, like she wasn’t cold hearted.

Like she wasn’t on egg shells around her.

Like she wasn’t a monster.

Everyone turned their heads after hearing a car pull up only to find the two love birds jumping out and joining the group.

Not even second’s later tall, like HUGE wolfs emerged from the treat lines slightly growling at those who stood before them.

“Well...Hello doggies” Nila said pushing up off the tree she was leaning on searching over every wolf in her eye sight.

The Pack took attention to the extra leech they have never seen before, especially Paul but he looked down at Carlisle before he could get a good look at her.

“They don’t trust us enough to be in their human forms” Edward said looking at his adoptive father.

“They came, that’s what matters... will you translate?” Carlisle asked as Edward gave a slight nod and stood in front of the wolfs.

Nila heard Bella say something to a rusty brown wolf but payed what ever it was no mind

“Welcome, Jasper as experience with newborns... He can teach us how to defeat them” he gently spoke.

“They wanna know how the newborns different from us” Edward stated.

“Their a great deal stronger then us because-”

“Their own human blood lingers in their tissues” Nila spoke out now coming closer and out of the tree lines.

Carlisle nodded at his friend before continuing.

“our kind is never more physically powerful then in our first several months of this life” he finished before stepping back letting Jasper take the lead.

“Carlisle’s right... That’s why their created” he said pacing.

“A new born army doesn’t need thousands like a human army... but no human army can stand against them”

The wolfs growled lowly as to say ‘we get it’

“the two most important things to remember are first... Never let them get their arms around you, they’ll crush you instantly. And second-” he said keeping eye contact with the wolfs.

“Never go for the obvious kill, they’ll be expecting that. and you. will. lose.... Nila, Emmet!” he shouted making the buff pale man and warm colored girl step forth.

Nila gracefully stood a few feet away from Emmet with a smirk.

“Don’t hold back steroids” she said in a teasing manner.

“Not in my nature she-devil” he responded in that same manner.

She stood still as Emmet charged at her small figure pushing her back through the dirt and lifting her, throwing her to ground only for her to land on she feet lightly.

Nila saw he was going to play dirty.. she going to show him she could play filthy.

smirking , She ran towards the man with force as he swung a punch toward her but she dodged it, she grabbed and twisted his arm making him turn in mid air before using her elbow to push his back to the ground, she won.

She pinned him.

“Never lose focus, sweet cakes” she said winking and turning back to go back to her spot in the tree’s but she felt eyes on her.

Nila turned around to search of eyes even close to looking at her, only to lock with Paul’s dusty grey ones.

She then felt her world stop as if only it was him and her in the field but she didn’t break eye contact with the wolf.

She saw a future with him, marriage , kids, love. A home.

He saw the same thing... felt the same way...

“One more thing...” Jasper’s voice spoke breaking them from their trance.

‘what the hell was that’ she thought but shook her head looking up to find Carlisle on the ground who was pinned by Edward.

That soon changed when Carlisle grabbed Edwards ankle bring him down as he now pinned Edward.

“never turn your back on your enemy” he said rolling his eyes.

As it was now Rose and Jasper’s turn to spare , Nila was now to deep in her thoughts to pay any attention , Paul the same.

Pictures of Nila’s light brown eyes flashed through his mind none stop, the vision’s of their future along with them which caught Jared’s attention.

‘oh dude... tell me you didn’t, did you?’ Jared thought.

‘shut up Jared’

‘OMG YOU DID!’

‘Will you guy’s focus, our life’s are kind of on the line here’ Paul heard Embry’s voice.

‘Paul imprinted on a leech Em, how am I suppose to focus if she’s flashing in my head. Kim is going to kill me-’

‘Enough’ Sam’s voice spoke.

‘Paul, we’ll talk later now all of you focus’

Training is now over and Nila sat on the steps of the Cullen’s home.

She just couldn’t get the dark grey out of her head.

What was it about him that pulled her to him and why was all she wanted to know I mean come on. she didn’t even know his human form.

“I wouldn’t stress it Ni maybe he just thought you were cute” a holly Alice said long side her.

she smiled gently before she spoke.

“Thanks pixie”

Mean while..

“you have to tell her Paul, she as a right to know” said a annoyed Sam beside Paul as the pack sat in Emily’s kitchen eating a lunch she made for a good luck before the newborn battle they have coming up.

Since training Paul wasn’t himself, almost as if he was missing a part of himself now that he was far from his imprint.

But he also felt disappointed in him self, why a vampire out of all things?

“Sam’s right... You cant stay far without hurting your self too” Jared said as he had a full mouth.

Embry and Quil agreeing with the usually dumb minded wolf.

“Mouth closed Jared” Emily Called out to the young boy, he said a quick sorry before he continued to wolf down his food.

No pun intended.

This angered the hot head Lahote, they don’t know what its like to imprint on your natural born enemy and then had the nerve to tell him to deal with it.

They wouldn’t know how to deal with it unless it happened to them.

“You don’t anything or even what your talking about” He said coldly.

Paul stood out his seat and stormed through back door leaving the conversation he wasn’t ready to have as he ran into the woods fazing mid sprint.

Flashes of the girl the cold one’s call ‘Nila’ going through his head was to much for him so he ran... growling and barking at anything in his path way.

The Battle

Nila Pov

It was now battle day, after two long nights of waiting, her mind still on the dark grey wolf in her mind, it was finally time to let her emotions go and kick some newborn ass.

Bella Stayed with Edward and Jacob far in the hills.

Jacob carried Bella to the camp out not to far from where the battle would be held to mask her scent so the newborns would be lead to the Cullen’s and Wolf’s plus Nila instead of Bella.

Nila kind of hoped the grey wolf would show as they were preparing for battle just so she can at least hold some conversation with him.

ask him what happened at training, why did she feel a pull to be near him all the time, why does her half death body ache when she thinks about her future with out him in it.

it was so much she needed to say.

“Stand tall, here they come” Jasper says as we lined up next to each other.

They listened as the growls grew louder, Foot steps coming closer ,and branches breaking.

Finally at least 20 pairs of blood red eyes came running from the tree lines and The 7 Vampires returning the act.

Jasper heads in first as he threw a power full punch breaking the newborns head like a piece of glass that just dropped.

Emmet using his buff figure to knock another of their feet then turning to twist one’s head right off their shoulders.

Every golden eyed vampire holding their own barely even noticing the pack jumping from the bolder and attacking a hand full of Newborn their self.

Esme grabbed a newborns foot to send then flying in the air for Carlisle to push the cold body down to the ground as his mate throws the monster to the wolfs.

Literally.

Nila was fighting to get the arms of a newborn from around her figure but couldn’t, Paul took notice to her struggle and jumped at the newborn holding her in one quick movement pulling his head off with his shark teeth.

They shared a quick glance before heading their own ways.

As they cleaned all of the newborn’s clean from the open field they were in everyone finally took a breather.

“Yeah never again, that bitch almost killed me” Nila said.

“Language”

“sorry”

“How long?” Edward said coming from nowhere will Bella on his left like a sea clam.

“A few minutes... maybe ten?” Alice said.

“the pack needs to leave , the Volturi won’t honor a truce with the werewolves”

A left over newborn jumped out and a white wolf with tan and grey in its fur attacked without thinking on anything.

“LEAH DONT!” Edward yelled.

The same dark grey wolf Nila as yet to talk to in human form jumped over the said wolf and latched on to the newborn then started to rumble.

Nila started to tense as the gray wolf started to lose his upper hand on the newborn.

The newborn got his arms around the grey wolf crushing his spine as Jasper said almost instantly, the wolf dropped to floor turning and whining in pain.

“NO!” Nila said running towards the monster who hurt the grey wolf fazing mid sprint and with one clean movement she torn the newborns head off.

“Paul... Hold on ok, Carlisle’s gonna take care of you” Edward said to the now human laying once where the grey wolf was.

There laid a tan man with the same tattoo as Jacob but buffer with arms in a x to try and help with the pain in his body but it was no use.

Nila’s wolf ran to the mans side ignoring his lack of clothes as she whined, a way of tell Carlisle to help him.

“his bones on the right, half them are shattered” Carlisle said.

5 boys and 1 girl soon came to Paul’s side in a hurry.

“Paul , You idiot! I Had it” Leah shouted.

“Leah!”

“we need to get him out of here , we’re not gonna want a fight with the Volturi” Edward said as Nila laid on her stomach resting her head gently on Paul’s shoulder ,whining.

“we’ll take him back to Billy’s” Sam said.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can”

The boys started to close in on Paul which Nila didn’t take to kindly , she missed what she was being said between the pack and Carlisle.

All she could focus on was Paul laying flat on the floor who she adored and felt the need to protect, moaning in pain.

Nila growled loudly as the 5 boy came in closer.

“Nila, they’re helping him. let them.”

She huffed before she started to whine again, hearing cries from Paul brought cries of her own.

“she can come... maybe she could help” Jacob suggest to Sam as they held Paul’s body up.

Sam nodded.

“They’re Coming!” Alice said which made Nila look to Carlisle as to ask could she.

He gave a warm smile before speaking.

“Go”

She hurried and follow the boys and Leah out of the woods.

Nila is now shifted back and everyone is at Billy’s.

Everyone’s out side as Paul screamed, it made her uneasy.

“What are they doing to him!” she asked turning to who she learned was Embry.

“Doc’s rebreaking his bones” she took a deep breath before she heard another one of Paul’s cries.

She slipped her finger into her hair and gripped it slightly.

Nila was freaking out and this wasn’t like her, she was pacing the grass as she tried to block out Paul’s screams.

“Paul Imprinted on you!” Jared rushed out trying to help the girl at least stay in one spot, all her walking and things were making him nervous.

“nice going jackass”

“really dude”

“Oh my gosh”

“this wasn’t the time...”

“someone had to say it!’

Nila zoned out their babbling as she focused on what she just heard, of course she has heard of imprinting but she just thought she had something on her face and her brain wanted to be over the top.

But instead he imprinted... and he didn’t tell her...

Nila felt her heart clench, was she not good enough to be is imprint? is that why he didn’t say anything?

The door to the little red house shack opened. Carlisle and Sam came out and shut the door.

Once again Carlisle said something and Nila didn’t pay it any mind.

“Nila... He’s asking for you”

She Looked up and shot through the door she walked down the small hall to find Paul on a bed in a pool of sweat and bandages.

He opened his eye’s half way to see her standing in the door way and muffled a laugh.

“so... your the hero wolf” he said in horse.

she gently smiled as she walked closer to the bed and sat on her knees.

“I- guess I am” she said looking up at him in his eyes.

They were beautiful to her, the way they shined even with no light on them.

“Look-” he said trying to sit up.

“Hey! no no no, stay still” she said starting to panic as she placed her small hands on his chest gently pushing him back down.

“ahh”

“Sorry- I’m so sorry- I-I should leave, I’m making things worst-” she said talking fast and getting up.

Paul caught her by her hand feeling the sparks on his skin as they touched.

In all honesty he didn’t want her to leave.

“Stay... please” he said making her slowly take her seat back on the floor, never taking his hand out of hers.

They sat in a peaceful silence before he spoke.

“I should have told you about the imprint... I’m sorry” he said looking at the side of her face but she turned her head to look him in his face.

“it’s okay, I get the whole Vampire werewolf hate thing but before you make up your mind-” she took a deep breath as she finally pulled her hand away from his now picking at her nails.

“I-I don’t think I have the will to stay away from you anymore” she said looking at her hands as he stared at her.

“Then don’t...” he said gently.

She look at his face to see if he was joking about what he said but she found no joking matter expression on his face.

She blushed.

“Lets start over” he said slowly sticking his hand out to shake hers which she gently shook.

“Hi, I’m Paul Lahote. I’m a werewolf, I imprinted on you and Thank you for saving my life ma’am” he said making her giggle.

“Hi, I’m Nila Livid. I’m a Hybrid, I kind of don’t mind-” She said smiling and falling into his eyes.

“and I’d do it all over again sir” she smiled making him smile and hold her hand tighter.

“Nice to meet you Nila”

HAPPY NEW YEARSSSS!❤

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smndragon · 3 years

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Hello!! 🖤 I love your dark aesthetic!! Could I get a full reading please? My initials are ACM and my big three is Scorpio sun in the 2nd, cancer moon in the 10th, and libra rising! Thank you and have a wonderful day!! 🖤

it's kinda funny cause I'm answering this so long after and it shows cause my theme is different😭 I'm sorry it took time to answer this! Let's go!

Hm, Scorpio sun, Cancer moon, Libra ascendant. I see trees covered in moss and flowers. Pink and rainbow buds all around the branches and leaves. Garden rabbits and plants growing from the ground. There's a girl in the distance, a hay colored dun hat. Blonde hair passing her shoulders, soft tanner summer heat skin. A pale blue dress, it looked as if it had played in the grass for years waiting to fit her form. As if this place had grown just for her, the girl staring off into the distance of the hills and sun. The sky was blue, sprinkling bits of sun pieces and bright stars of all light colors. The balls of heat never burned, until now. Seeing my own clothes partially torn and burned from the ash and flakes of the burning flame. It scattered in my hands and left marks of black and red. I would like to say I was worried if it's burn me. But I was only fascinated by this world. The girl turned to me behind her with a look of curiosity, wide blue and green eyes, which sometimes changed to a light honey. (WHY DID THAT CORRECT TO HORNY) Bangs of the soft curly hair covered her forehead. To be honest, she looked like she came out of a slice of life anime or manga of sorts. Those eyes sparkled like casting spells was her gift, spells on the mind and human race. The trees limbs went to constrict around my body like snakes. The wood felt poking but safe. As if it were a chair or place made for me. She walked closer to me, she went to shake my hand extending her own out. I looked at it wondering what to do with my arms held. The tree moved and she grabbed my hand with her own two. Her smile was like walking a warm and soft sanded beach. Eyes closed to calm her pale blonde eyelashes. A button and small bit nose. She was small but she wasn't fully considered skinny. Her feet soles were green and mossy. The tree let me down for her to walk me somewhere. The grass of the hills grew to our heights around us, making it harder to catch up and see her. I feel this may have been the Libra ascendant. The sun's falling bits have off the energy of the Scorpio sun. The Scorpio may be going into the Libra's home with it's fire. Before I knew it, caught up in my own thoughts she was gone. Lost in the tall grass. Possible placements may be the chest, stomach, or shoulders. Maybe even could affect the knees somehow. The aura of the Libra is yellow, blue, or green, bright and untamed. You may have freckles, like walking barefoot, have a taste for adventure, have the ability to lead people places that are unexpected or new. Your Libra gifted you the smarts of a predator and the eyes of a humble pisces or animal.

The Scorpio sun is burning. A pile of hot burning fire and sun. Laying on top of the pile or coming out of nowhere. The Scorpio moves to get Infront of me. Putting it's head in my hand. Tied back dark red or brown hair. Eyes are thinly almond shaped. I grab their chin. The feminity of the Scorpio shows here. Your Scorpio may want to be dominated by others it loves. The eyes of the Scorpio are a dark red, daring and wishing. A bit of scruff on the chin. Around 5'5-5'11. Masculine facial features. A mark or mole under the eye. Dark clothes. That of a knight or guardian. Red and black with golden pieces and placements. It sometimes look as if he's wearing the sun when they shine. A long and nicely shaped thin nose. Curved out at the eyes. They smell of heat and freshly cut grass. As if the world were on fire. I see shining flames whenever their eyes meet mine. I'm ngl I have half the mind to kiss your zodiac right now. This is a sign worth loving. It treats your body as a temple and your mind as a deity or god. Ready to strike and defend you at every turn if it can. You may have been told you don't know when to back downs at times. Could also have back problems, or a beauty mark on the face also. There's not much here for me really, the Scorpio is humbly protective, they like being treated like a pet at times but they'll never let their guard down just yet. Possible placements may be the spine, back, or hands. Aura is red and golden. You could also like writing poetry, or something to do with hands. Possibly a physical activity or smth. You could also be someone who likes to do things only when interested, if you're not people will say you're lazy when that's not the case at you just have no interest though you're hard working. Something unmentioned was the Scorpio form at the beginning, I feel your Scorpio is very powerful in ways in the body. It can transform from the very sun, to a Scorpion, then lastly to the man.

The Cancer home is dimmed and cold. Ice pains my feet. Frost and snow fall from the ceiling and walls. The Cancer freezes sometimes here, but says it's warm. Silently begging for others to ignore it's cold breaths. The bane of ris existence at times is itself. It feels caved in and scared of the world. Possibly from a previous host or truama. The world doesn't fully terrify it, it just feels it already knows what's to come from certain things. This may make you uncommunicative inside or often. Because of the Cancer's dominance in your head it can move it's truama to you and cause you to worry or not understand things people associate themselves with at times. Unintentionally closing you off from the world or growing. It wants to feel safe and sane. Retreating when your other signs wish to take action. the Scorpio burns to partially cover the Cancer. To give it warmth it hasn't gotten on the outside. But also to cover this feeling deep down. The zodiacs worry for your poor Cancer. The crab that's iced it's blue shell to almost cracking. Your Scorpio may love this zodiac greatly in some way. Either romantically or as if very close friends. He visits the door of the crab now, knocking and waiting. Upon no reply he opens the door to see us both sitting down. Confused as to why I'm here but dragging something in behind him anyways. A possibile meat or warming blanket? He grabs a sheet to cover the Crab's shell. Patting it a few times. Going back to the bag to get meat and dusty ash. He creates a fire with a dimple flicker of the black mush. Throwing the food above the fire to stand up with sticks and tools. Taking a seat near me and the Cancer. It's silent, but tis ckmfotin. Your Scorpio worries for the Cancer. They've known each other for a few rounds of lifetimes. The Scorpio may have even seen it all. The sound of the Cancer's panic. Something happened in a previous host, the Cancer felt they couldn't save that person, that they could do nothing against the danger, costing their host much to even possibly their life. The Scorpio was not the sign in control then. A great respect for the Cancer before still present now. Possible placements are the shoulders also, the head, the lower back, or the soles of the feet. Could cause shoulder pains, neck pains, smaller or medium feet.

Your signs aren't perfect, but they do their best to help each other and you. The Scorpio sometimes feels a heavy weight watching over things by themselves at times. The Libra doesn't make it inside until now. Stopping by the door for a second before sitting with us. This is nice, and all in a few moments, it feels like home inside you.

The truama could have something to do with you or the signs it's hard to tell. May deal with panic attacks or anxiety.

Characteristics: because of the Libra maybe even a dirty blonde or blonde of some sort, maybe dark or brown hair, may go past the neck or a bit above or near the shoulders, wide dark eyes or blue and green mix. Smaller or medium to big hands. Just something on hands I feel is important. Could be white, mixed, or foreign to America (not mensing your life here just from my country possibly). May paint your nails or leave them blank, sketches a lot or some bit. Style could be dark or plain in tones of where you live. Could fit the occasion. Smaller feet. May be fairly small when it comes to weight. Height could be 5'1-5'6. Beauty mark on the face somewhere or freckles. Maybe on the back of the neck even. May glance off at times. A make also maybe in the inner thigh. Scorpios deal with eyesight either making it really gold or poor. So possible glasses.

Future relationship/soulmates: will nudge you possibly when they want to relax. Could meet somewhere in the convenience store a normal somewhat important or crowded solace to you. (stores are too common of s theme here lol) may want to give you piggy backs or get them. Dark fluffy hair or pale. Will look domineering but isn't really lol. Could always be snuggling up even in public which can bother you. Want the groceries? You'll get them they'll go out as long as they get to call you the whole way. To that you tell them to be careful when driving. Horny. Very soft and loving. Will give you time if needed when first meeting to talk to them or after asking you out at some point.

Other zodiac possible zodiac influence through other people: Scorpio ascendant, moon, or sun, cancer moon, Gemini moon, dominant, Aries sun, moon, pisces sun, ascendant, moon. Some Capricorn energy somewhere. Also maybe Sagittarius energy in you or another person. Maybe a mars Sagittarius around you?

Future/health: watch for possible things to do with electronics or not paying attention, walking in streets, we kinda discussed possible health stuff lol, back pain, shoulder aching, neck pains, panic attacks or anxiety, possible dark thoughts from the Cancer and even Scorpio.

Houses: having Scorpio sun in the 2nd house could mean an attachment to material thing from childhood. Financial gifts involving communication and interaction. Gains through others somehow. Having Cancer moon in 10th could mean you may make it doing something involving physical use or mental stability. Could be a social worker, nurse, something involving humanitarian stuff or possibly business if you focused on it. Could be a lawyer even, with Cancer there's a lot of possibilities from their talents. There's something great in you, you just have to drive for what you want. Possibly may want to owns little shop somewhere even. You'll gain possible reliable jobs through friends or connections even due to the 2nd house.

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askultimateluckytrash · 3 years

Note

Aww. That’s actually kinda sweet. What are your thoughts on each of your classmate’s hair? What comes to mind?

“You really want to know? Ah, okay, I’ll tell you. I just-- hope that none of them get offended by any of this.

Okay, I guess we can start with Akane. I don’t really like her hair that much. It’s average length, average color, average style. There’s nothing that noticeable or unique about it except that it’s kind of messy. It’s just...really plain.

Then there’s Chiaki. I-- well, I actually like her hair. I like the dusty blonde color of it, and the style she wears it in makes it look really soft, the way it sweeps up at the ends. It suits her.

I like the color of Fuyuhiko’s hair but the style appeal escapes me. Maybe I just don’t get it because I’m not a yakuza. It’s just cut so short. It looks kind of silly, like he’s almost bald. And then the two shaved snakes on either side also look pretty silly. The color is a really nice, warm blond though.

Gundham’s hair is just ridiculous. I can’t take it seriously. It’s shaved at the sides, but the top is left long and piled on top of his head like a swirled ice cream cone. It’s impressive that he can get it to stay like that, but it still looks funny. Especially with the gray streak. That makes him look like he’s in his 50s, at least. I mean, even the black color in his hair is kind of dull and drab.

I like Hajime’s hair. It’s cute. It may be an average length, but all that spikiness is definitely not an average style, and it seems to fit his personality so well. It’s prickly, like him, ahaha. Plus, while his hair might be brown, it’s this odd greyosh-greenish brown color that I’ve never seen on anyone before. Just like Hajime, his hair seems average at first glance, but is really special if you just look closer.

Um...Hiyoko’s hair is alright, I guess. The color seems a little dull, but maybe that’s just because I’ve never seen Hiyoko wear anything other than bright orange, and any color looks dull compared to that. The style itself is cute with the little pigtails, but all in all, her hair just doesn’t stick out to me that much.

I love Ibuki’s hair. Look at it! It’s so special and unique. I’ve never seen anything like it before. You can tell that so much talent and skill went into just styling her hair alone, as well as coloring it. It’s so different, so colorful, so unique...It really suits her talent and her personality. I love how long it is, and the three colors that she chose to highlight it with, and the way that she makes it look so choppy and yet flowing at the same time. It doesn’t look soft and pliable, but it really is. I’m so impressed by her hair.

Byakuya-- hm...Do I even go over this one? Is that his actual hair? I have no idea what his real hair actually looks like. Or...he could even be bald. But the hair that I met him with is nice. There’s nothing remarkable about the color, but the texture of it is nice. It looks put-together but not rigid. And it’s soft.

Kamukura’s hair is my favorite. It’s the most unique of any hairstyle I’ve seen. I mean-- as it should be. Kamukura is the most special person who ever walked the Earth. He should have a hairstyle that matches. And it does match. First of all, the color is unique, like I said about Hajime’s. It’s dark, but it’s not just black, like you’d expect out of some badly written, trope-filled anime villain. Kamukura isn’t just an evil face. He’s a dangerous person, but he’s complex, and intelligent, and calculated. Nothing about him is ‘typical’. Brown suits him more than black, but it’s darker than most browns, which fits too. And then the length. That shows how dangerous, terrifying, and powerful he is. And how unique he is. No one else has hair that long. Only a person with his talents could possibly keep it up. It’s elegant, mysterious, and beautiful like him. It’s definitely my favorite.

Kazuichi’s hair is just ridiculous. I know I said that I like unique hair, but Kazuichi’s goes from being unique to being clownish. It’s such a bright pink. Why did he ever think that was a good idea? And then the style-- having long hair is one thing, but then he has to comb it back like that, and make it stick up so much in the front. It looks like the crest on a Cardinal bird. And the fact that he brushed it back so much makes it look like he A) is going bald and 2) makes his widow’s peak stick out ridiculously. I don’t like it. I don’t know why he likes it.

Mikan’s hair is really cute and pretty. I know that it’s not...I don’t know, typically attractive, or typically how you’d style hair. It’s pretty much the opposite, actually. I know people look at it and think ‘that’s not how you style hair, that’s how you should avoid styling hair’, but I think it’s pretty. It’s unique. The way that she has it all chopped off in different levels actually works really well. Visually, it looks good enough to be intentional. To be some kind of ahead-of-it’s-time experiment. It’s appealing. It looks good. It’s interesting. Plus, her hair color is much darker than the typical average brown, and it has an almost purple tone to it. I like that too.

I really like Mahiru’s hair, too. It’s very unique. The color of course, because it’s bright red, but also the cut. That short style isn’t something you see often on girls. It works for her. It makes her hair look fluffy and soft, and overall...It’s very nice.

Nekomaru’s hair is nice too. It’s a shiny, glossy black color that’s nice to look at, and the style is really fun. The way he slicks it back shows the compact, practical organization of a team manager. But the way that he gets it to stand up on the sides of his head is unique, and almost looks like a movie villain. Which-- of course, he’s the opposite of evil. But it’s still unique, and different from most other hairstyles.

Peko’s hair is really nice. The light silver color is definitely something I’ve never seen before. It fits with her red eyes and her black clothes. And then the style itself-- it seems like typical braids, but it’s tied up in the back, which is also something I’ve never seen before. Both the style and the color are really pretty and unique.

Sonia’s hair is beautiful. As it should be, for the Ultimate Princess. It’s soft, silky, long and wavy, which is more quality than most people (including me) can get with their hair. The length is a lot longer than what most girls are willing to put up with styling. Plus the braids she puts into it are classy, elegant, and fancy. It suits her well. And the light blonde color is really pretty.

Teruteru-- well, I love some parts of his hair, and I hate other parts. The top tuft of his hair that’s swept forward is really nice. I like how soft it looks, like whipped chocolate. It’s obvious that a lot of skill went into that part. But the rest is just...shaved at the sides and then braided over it. The shaving looks silly, and the braids only make it worse. I don’t know why he did that with the top of his hair, and then did something completely different and completely unfitting with the bottom of his hair.”

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beetlegoose01 · 3 years

Text

stolen whispers: chapter 1

AN: this fic isn’t a request, it’s a story i’ve been preparing for a lil while and I’m so excited to share this with you all <3

I’ll link it on my Archive if you prefer to read it there. Also warning, there’s quite a few OCs.

Time: 2028 (Scorbus have been married for two years)

Summary: When a new generation of Death Eaters kidnap Scorpius, Albus and Rose put aside their differences to rescue him.

TW: Kidnapping/Language/minor violence

~~~~

Two witches wearing shadowy black robes entered the tavern, finding a table near the back. They ordered their mead, waiting for their third partner impatiently. It was a crowded area, so thankfully there was a small chance they would be overheard.

"We don't want more mead." The first woman growled, tapping her long nails at the table. The bartender, a tall man with a mustache put the drinks down.

"I didn't think so." He lips curled into a grin as he morphed into a younger man with wild dusty brown hair, wearing matching robes. He was handsome, but had an eerie presence to him. Any reasonable person would have at least flinched at the transformation, though neither witch did. "Hello ladies." He grinned cheekily.

"Soren, enough playing games." The second woman said, though she was smirking.

Soren barked out a laugh. "It was funny, Mara. And you know it."

The first woman, Lilith narrowed her eyes. She pulled down her hood, revealing cascading inky black hair down her shoulders. A scar that showed no sign of mending was down her cheek. "Your skills are impressive, but useless if you don't use them for our own gain. Don't forget that." She pulled her hood back.

"Understood." He murmured, taking a seat.

"We have much to discuss," She continued, flicking her wand idly. "Our current plan in action. Our...act of revenge. It's been thirty years since The Tenebris was wrongfully killed. I am sick and tired of his name being tossed around in history like he was some monster. He was on the right side."

"Are you certain we want to call the Dark Lord that?" Mara asked suspiciously.

"Shh! You know if anyone hears us, they'll lock us up for good. For speaking our minds." Lilith said. "It's safer we call him by his code name."

Her companions nodded.

"Because of his loss, we have mudbloods in positions of power. Our siblings that fought for his cause are locked up. Or worse, dead."

Mara and Soren looked grim.

"If we had more allies, perhaps we would have had a chance." Soren noted. "We weren't even alive then but...I have a feeling if we were..."

"Just because we weren't alive then, doesn't mean we don't have opinions over the lives stolen!" Mara argued. "That damn Harry Potter."

"Correct. And Soren is right too. For once. If we had more allies, or better yet...certain allies didn't betray us. The Malfoys for instance." She took a sip of her drink.

"Are you suggesting something?" Mara asked.

"Of course I am, don't be so daft." Lilian said, deadly calm. "I want to make that family suffer for what they did. My uncle Vincent Crabbe died for their selfishness. Draco Malfoy had a chance to save him, and he refused like the coward he is. His mother Narcissa lied to Tenebris' face. They are backstabbing filth that besmirched the Sacred 28. No, it isn't just about their betrayal or avenging those we lost in the war. Think of the big picture. They have the capabilities to join our side. To...respawn a new generation of Death Eaters. But that's not all...

"The Malfoys have lots of gold." She drawled. "Surely, they'll spare a few for us in exchange for something important. Or rather...someone."

"Someone?" Soren paused. "What are you suggesting?"

"Regretfully, Astoria Malfoy has passed on." Mara didn't sound the least bit sympathetic, instead stated it blandly. "So using her as a ransom for Draco is a no go."

"Ah, but there is still someone left." Lillian said, removing a small photograph from her cloak, she slid it across the table.

A young man with platinum hair was pictured, beaming brightly in Healer Robes.

"Scorpius Malfoy."

Soren and Mara exchanged a look of satisfaction.

"Bring him to me."

~~~~~~~~~~

The best thing about mornings, at least to Albus, was waking up beside his husband. The sun's bright rays peaked through the window of their cream colored bedroom, slowly stirring them both awake. If it was up to him, he would stay in their warm bed, arms wrapped around Scorpius until noon.

Scorpius rolled over, so that they were facing each other. His eyes fluttered open, and Albus felt his heart melt at his sapphire eyes.

"Hi." He yawned. His voice was slightly croaky, no doubt from the morning.

Albus replied by nuzzling his nose, then kissed his cheek. "Hi honey."

Scorpius laughed lightly. "Let's get up then. Start the day? It's a Saturday. We have the whole weekend to spend together."

"I'd rather spend it here with you."

Bathilda mewed from the kitchen.

"But our child is hungry." Scorpius teased, stretching as he slid out of bed. Albus begrudgingly slumped after him, not eager to wake up before ten am. But his own stomach was growling too.

"Speaking of children," Albus said, starting to work on their breakfast as Scorpius poured Bathilda's food. "Iris is pregnant again. James told me through a Howler yesterday."

"Really?" Scorpius' eyes widened. "That's great news!"

"Yeah, not for my ears." He commented dryly, still traumatized by James' excited screeching in his ear. "Baby number three." He whistled. "Do you think they're trying to make an entire quidditch team? With Teddy and Vic's lot included, they're on their way."

Though he was joking, Scorpius noticed that Albus was glowing, happy for his brother and sister in law. That was one of the many reasons he loved Albus. His love for his siblings.

"Perhaps. When are they due?"

"September. Which means...that's where they scurried off to last Christmas party." Albus quipped. "To have a little fun."

"Albus!" Scorpius scolded. "Honestly, only you would make a beautiful moment gross."

"It's life, Scorp!" He chuckled. "You're a Healer, you should know these things."

"We'll have to visit. Maybe bring a gift basket to congratulate them." He mused, smiling fondly. "I can't wait to meet our new niece or nephew." There was a wistful look in his eye that Albus caught.

"You've got that look on your face." He noted, amused. He served the plates of bacon sandwiches on the table.

"What do you mean?"

"That Scorpius 'I want something but I'm not going to spell it out for you' face."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh." Albus said, forest green eyes brightening in amusement. "What's up?" He took a seat, tucking into breakfast.

"Well," Scorpius started, staring at his food. "I was thinking..." He stopped himself, hesitant to continue his train of thoughts.

"Yeah?" Albus nudged him gently.

"I want a child." He said, his voice quiet, but firm. "I love my nieces and nephews so much, but they aren't...ours. I want to start a family with you, Albus. Raise a little one of our own to be bright and wonderful and brave and..."

Albus' expression softened. "I do too. You know I do, Scorpius. It's just...difficult right now." He stared at his wedding band. "You know it's harder for us than any hetero couple." He waved his hand vaguely. "Adoption is hard, surrogacy is expensive. Maybe once we settled into our careers more, we can talk about it."

"I think we're ready to go beyond just talking about it, Al."

"We're still young. We've still got time. But...I definitely want to work it out. Somehow, we will. We always do."

Scorpius beamed, reaching to kiss Albus' knuckle. "Thank you." He sat up abruptly. "Oh, I almost forgot- it's the farmer's market today."

Albus snorted. "You're exactly like your dad, you know?"

"Yes yes yes, but we should go!" Scorpius said, levitating the plates to the sink and it automatically was clean due to the floating sponges.

"We? I've got some work to do. I'm not very fond of small talk with old people selling fruit."

"Al, it's really good fruit." Scorpius said seriously. "And it's not all old people. I've seen some of our old schoolmates there."

Albus cringed. "That's even worse."

"Don't be so dramatic. Are you still coming?"

"Mm, but I should really finish this article. Go on without me."

"If you're sure...do you want me to bring anything back?"

Albus thought for a moment. "Those strawberries Ms. Beaker sells. Please? Strawberries and cream sounds so good right now."

"Brilliant, I'm on it." Scorpius did a mock salute.

"Have fun." Al waved as Scorpius appatered, leaving the kitchen empty. Albus went straight to work on his article.

~•~

The market was lively and merry, despite the early hour. Scorpius had stopped by the strawberry stand first, in case he forgot.

Ever since they had moved two years ago, Scorpius had found himself drawn to the quaint farmer's market. Not because of the delicious, fresh food, but to socialize. He made quite a few friends with the muggles who lived around there...mostly old ladies. The early days of their marriage, Albus would join him. Before life got in the way, and work had to be done.

Not that he wasn't busy himself. He only had two days off as a Healer, sometimes less. He didn't know how they would manage childcare, but like Al had said, it was best not to dwell on the future.

"Scorpius? Is that you?"

He turned around, following the voice from behind him. "Polly ...Chapman?" He uttered blandly, praying he wasn't mistaken. He didn't have the best memory- even with old schoolmates who bullied him.

"Yep." Polly said, laughing lightly. "It's me. Been a while."

"It has." Scorpius shifted his weight. "How are things?"

"Great!" She smiled, swishing her blonde ponytail, the same air of confidence from when she was a teenager. "Yann and I are engaged."

"Oh! That's wonderful." Scorpius said, pretending to sound pleased. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you. I proposed to them last month. It was just as I had dreamed."

"How is...Yann?" Scorpius did not actually care how Yann was.

"They're good! Brilliant actually, since they passed Auror training." Polly looked genuinely proud of them, which he had to admit was adorable. "Are you and Albus still..."

"Yes, yes. We um, er- we've been married almost two years actually." He added.

"Aw, that's very sweet. You two were always very close, yeah?" Polly looked at him, and Scorpius nearly walked backwards, intimidated by her stance. She still was extremely scary, like a lioness but with a great sense of fashion. "I know...Yann, Karl and I weren't the best to you two but perhaps we could..." She trailed off. "I'd like you both to come. To the wedding. If you'd like."

That...wasn't what he was expecting. He half expected her to invite him to another Blood Ball.

"Pardon?" Scorpius asked, dumbfounded. "I mean- yeah, that sounds great! Fun! Yes. That sounds nice. I'll bring it up to Al."

Polly was glowing. "Brill! I've got to go, but we should all hang out sometime. Like old times."

Like old times? Scorpius thought. When did they ever hang out?

Nodding mutely, he walked away from Polly with a puzzled, but cheerful expression. He hadn't completely fucked up the conversation, which was always a plus. It still felt odd that Polly Chapman of all people was talking to him, let alone inviting him to her wedding. It was bizarre.

He passed the final vendor, and was surprised and amused to see a tiny girl, no more than seven standing behind it. She had a Brownie uniform on, bright rosy cheeks and pigtails included.

"Would you like a biscuit?" She squealed.

It had taken him a moment to respond, he was still thinking of Polly being kind to him "Oh erm- of course." It was impossible to say no to an adorable small child. He reached for some muggle money, handing her the pound notes. "Just the one box please."

"Okie dokie!" She said, handing him the box. She waited a moment, pouting. "Go on, try it." She urged.

"I really shouldn't I-"

"Please?" The little girl gave him the most pitiful expression. "It's for a good cause, mister. We're helping orphaned puppies find homes."

"Well, alright. For the puppies." He fumbled open the box, taking a polite bite out of the cookie. It was a classic lemon cookie with powdered sugar, one of his favorites. But the second he swallowed, he felt dizzy all of a sudden. "What..." He stumbled back. "Oh my," He gulped, the entire market swirling around him. Something wasn’t right. "is there something in..."

He would be damned if he let this happen without some sort of fight. Throwing his basket aside, he collapsed, slipping into unconsciousness.

"We've got him."

#Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy #Albus Severus Potter #Char Fanfics #Scorbus #Married Scorbus #LOTS of OCs #James Sirius Potter #Polly Chapman #Yann Fredericks #Scorpius Malfoy #Albus Potter #Fanfic #Writing #Kidnapping

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chroniccombustion · 4 years

Text

Things I’ll Never Say

From “And a Week is All I Need (To Fall in Love With You)“, part of @souyoweek2020

Genre: romance, mutual pining, dorks in love, M/M Rated: K+ Characters: Souji Seta (Yu Narukami), Hanamura Yosuke, Tatsumi Kanji, brief Dojima Nanako cameo Warnings: mild language Status: drabble collection, incomplete

<- previous chapter | next chapter ->

(song the title is from)

Day 2: Yosuke’s Birthday or Sunny

“Kanji...” he whispers, voice hoarse and cracking slightly at the end. “The other day, when you came over... was there a stack of colored envelopes on my desk?”

Confused silence greets him for a moment. Then, “Uh.... I think so? Pretty sure I remember seein' it.” He paused. “Why? Did I leave it there or somethin'? I swear I thought I grabbed it with the rest of the gifts...”

Souji's heart goes plummeting through his feet. “You... grabbed that one, too...?”

“This everything, Senpai?”

Souji looks up from where he's busy tucking a birthday card into a burnt-orange envelope – one that he folded extra-special just for this purpose. Grey eyes scan over the pile of other cards and small packages resting on his desk, taking stock of everything to make sure it's all there. After a moment he nods. “It should be, yeah.”

He stands from his spot behind the low work table and takes a moment to smile quietly down at the envelope in his hands before turning a wider smile towards the person standing across the room. “Thanks again, Kanji,” he says warmly, and the way the taller boy blushes faintly isn't lost on him. It's cute, Souji thinks, and maybe in another timeline where he wasn't already hopelessly in love with someone else, he might very well have been able to return the crush he knows his friend has on him. But that's neither here nor there, and as it stands Souji knows all too well how it feels to have his affections go unreturned. Even if he's much better at hiding them than Kanji is.

The punk mumbles something Souji can't quite make out but thinks might be a, “don't gotta thank me.”

He laughs quietly, gently. “I mean it,” he says, “there's no way I'd be able to hide all this where Yosuke wouldn't find it somehow; my room, ah...” He glances around with a soft chuckle, waving a hand at the open space. “I don't really have a lot of extra storage.”

Kanji looks like he's about to reply – probably to wave off Souji's thanks again – but anything he might have said is interrupted by a sweet voice calling from downstairs. “Onii-chan!” The sound of small footsteps padding down the hallway precedes a gentle knock at the door. “Onii-chan? Are you home?”

Souji chuckles, affectionate and soft, and calls, “I'm home. Come on in.”

Nanako needs no further invitation. The door swings open and a pigtailed head peeks in, brown eyes bright. “Onii-chan, Daddy says he's coming home tonight! Will you help me make dinner? Oh!” she gasps, pure delight spreading over her face as she spots kanji near the desk. “Hello!” She looks over at a still-smiling Souji, then back to Kanji, and practically beams. “Are you staying for dinner, too?”

“Would you like to?” Souji asks, quieter than his exuberant little sister but no less genuine. It's been a while since anyone other than Yosuke has been over in the evenings, and Souji finds he wouldn't mind at all if his rough-around-the-edges underclassman stayed and let Souji feed him. After all, Kanji agreed to hiding the pile of birthday gifts so Yosuke doesn't go snooping through his partner's room for them (though Souji is still a little irritated as to just why he knows Yosuke won't be poking around at Kanji's house to look for gifts). At the very least, he'd like to do something to show Kanji his thanks, since the blond doesn't seem inclined to let him say it.

But Kanji has gone from blushing to an odd shade of purple, fingers scratching as the back of his own hair as he ducks his head to the side and down. Souji at first interprets this as 'cuteness overload', because honestly, who does Nanako not have that effect on? But no. Rather than mutter about how adorable Nanako is like he usually does, Souji hears Kanji instead mutter something unintelligible – with the only discernible words being “Dojima” and “staring at me.” And oh. Well. Souji is disappointed, yes, but he does understand; if his uncle weren't coming home then Kanji likely would have agreed, but there is still an awkwardness between the pair of them, mostly out of yet-unbroken habit. So Souji just gives his friend a knowing smile and says, “You need to get home, don't you?” When Kanji looks up at him, Souji nods in gentle understanding. “Your mom?” he adds, giving the other boy an out that won't alert Nanako.

Kanji's eyes widen for a moment as he catches on, then straightens. “Y-yeah!” he says a bit too loud and a bit too quick. “I mean! My ma's probably waitin' on me.”

Nanako visibly deflates and Kanji looks like he's ready to combust, so once again, Souji steps in. “It's alright,” he says at them both as he reaches down to ruffle Nanako's hair. “Another night this week, maybe?” He quirks a stormy-grey brow, lips twitching upwards in a tiny smirk. “I'll bring leftovers for lunch tomorrow, too; you should come sit with me.”

And oh, if Kanji's face doesn't simultaneously light up and flush a bright, dusty red at that. “Ah heck yeah!” he manages to crow past his blush, and it's absolutely great. Souji has to bite back a triumphant smile because he will feed his friend in thanks for his help whether it be tonight or tomorrow. He'll make extra food later on if he has to, just to have enough to bring to school.

In the end, without really looking, Kanji hurriedly shovels the stack of gifts and cards into the paper sack Souji had brought out for him to use, and Souji and Nanako walk him to the front door to see him out. Kanji loiters for an extra five minutes while Nanako hugs him tightly, and Souji thanks Kanji again where he knows his friend can't really dispute the sentiment with Nanako there to back her brother up. Kanji is a good friend, and Souji almost feels bad about the taller boy's crush, what with Souji's constant need to make sure everyone around him is happy, but even if Souji can't return his kohai's affections he sure as hell can let him know he's appreciated. So with Kanji still sporting a blush and Nanako finally letting him go so he can escape, Souji says a last goodbye to the soft-hearted punk, watching him head up the road for a few moments to make sure he'll be alright heading home.

It's not until several days later that he realizes something is horribly amiss.

---

Souji's crush on his best friend started early. If asked, he wouldn't be able to put his finger on an exact date or pick out an exact event that sparked it. It just... happened. Yosuke was his partner, a new friend that Souji had hoped he'd be able to keep, but it was nothing deeper than platonic affection - until it was.

Without warning it had crept up on him, until Souji found he couldn't remember a time when he wasn't in love with the friendly brunette. Yosuke was charming, funny, kind, and despite his flaws (the least of which being the boy's uncanny ability to lodge his own foot in his mouth at the worst of times), Souji had never met another person besides Nanako that he'd clicked with so well.

Which was why it had been getting harder and harder for him to keep his feelings to himself. Back when he'd been living in the city, well before his parents had sent him to Inaba and then given in to his begging to let him stay for his final year of high school, Souji had kept a journal. Every time he'd had an emotion, a thought, a welling-up of something inside him that screamed to be let out but had no safe outlet for him to do so, Souji would sit down at his desk and pour out everything he couldn't say onto the paper. He'd filled up the entire journal within the span of a year.

So he'd started another. And then another. And then he'd moved to Inaba and quickly filled up the last half of that third journal with his secret worry over the murder cases. He'd filled another, thinner journal after that one, too, until he'd run out of both paper and fear and anger and stress to fill it with. He'd thought he was done.

But then he'd fallen in love with Yosuke.

He'd tried starting yet another journal, just to dedicate to how much he was pining (yes, pining, he could admit it to himself, at least) over the best friend he'd ever had. But after he'd finally found the perfect one, cover bright with colors like summer, he'd sat down to touch his pen to the first page and... nothing. For the first time in his life, Souji hadn't been able to put his emotions into words.

For several weeks he would try and start all over again, thinking maybe if he gave himself enough time to think more about what he wanted to say then the words would come easier. He'd get maybe a sentence or two in, reread it, and then grow frustrated with himself for yet another failed attempt. His breakthrough finally came while working on some translations for one of his part time jobs – a letter, written from a high school student to a foreign girl her family had hosted as part of an exchange program. In her letter she'd anxiously confessed her feelings, hopeful they could meet again someday. By the time he went to bed Souji had every word of the letter burned permanently into his brain, and the moment he was free from school the next day he had gone straight to the shopping district and bought himself a pretty, pastel orange stack of stationary, sunflowers drawn in delicate lines across the bottom of each page.

Writing had suddenly become much easier after that. In the form of a letter, where Souji could pretend he was talking directly to the object of his affections rather than just about, he found that he could burn through nearly a dozen pages front and back in a little under a weekend. He'd had to make two more trips to the shop to get more packs of stationary because, while pretty and perfect for inspiring words of love and hopeless devotion, the flowers on the paper were hand-drawn and so there just weren't that many sheets in the package. At some point, Souji had just given in and bought three packs at once to save himself another venture into town.

The stack of letters grew; some were short, filled with simple things like, “you smiled at me today during lunch and I nearly forgot how to breathe,” and some where longer, detailing the way the setting sun had shone behind them at the riverbank and“made you look ethereal.” As he finished them, one by one, Souji would tuck them safely away in one of his homemade envelopes – all in sunset colors and tied together in a bundle with red string. The bundle stayed on his desk, off to the side where it wouldn't be in the way but still close enough that he could reach for it to add another record of his secret love.

Which is why, three days after Kanji had left with the pile of gifts, on the evening of Yosuke's birthday, when Souji goes to write out an entire day's worth of ache and longing and reaches for the bundle of letters so he can add the newly finished one to the rest only to find it missing, he abruptly has a heart attack.

He has a second one twenty minutes later as he stands in the middle of his now gutted bedroom with absolutely no sign of them anywhere. Books and folders lay scattered from where they'd been yanked from his desk and tossed out of the way onto the futon, only for the futon to also be pulled aside and dumped haphazardly across the work table. He'd gone so far as to (quietly) pull both the couch and the desk away from the walls to see if somehow his heart on paper had been lodged between them and the furniture – all to no avail.

He stares at his ransacked surroundings, wracking his brain to try and think of any other place they could be. They wouldn't be downstairs anywhere; neither Nanako nor Dojima have any reason or desire to go through his things. They wouldn't be in his school bag, either, because Souji would sooner walk straight into the Samegawa and let it drown him than take something so dangerous and valuable anywhere near where Yosuke could happen upon it. In fact, Souji had made it a point in times past to hide the letters behind his textbooks on the desk whenever Yosuke came over, and even though Yosuke had spent plenty of time digging around for Souji's “stash,” he'd steered well clear of the study materials. No, there's no place else in the house or out of it that the bundle could be.

No place else except one.

Souji's hands are shaking so badly that he's already almost dropped the phone twice before he manages to scroll through his contacts and successfully locate the name that he prays to every single god imaginable will tell him he's wrong.

“Yo, Senpai, what's up?”

“Kanji...” he whispers, voice hoarse and cracking slightly at the end. “The other day, when you came over... was there a stack of colored envelopes on my desk?”

Confused silence greets him for a moment. Then, “Uh.... I think so? Pretty sure I remember seein' it.” He pauses. “Why? Did I leave it there or somethin'? I swear I thought I grabbed it with the rest of the gifts...”

Souji's heart goes plummeting through his feet. “You... grabbed that one, too...?”

(Nonononono, this wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening!)

Kanji hums on the other end of the speaker. “I mean, I thought I did. I didn't check the bag after I got it home, though... Is somethin' wrong, Senpai?”

Souji hears his own voice, hears himself saying, “N... no. No, nothing's wrong. Thanks, Kanji,” but he can't actually feel the words leaving his mouth. His arm falls limp against his side then, and his fingers act on muscle memory, flipping the phone closed and hanging up the call.

Okay. Okay okay okay, he thinks, trying to keep himself grounded long enough to sort through his own head. The situation is grim, yes, but not hopeless. Yosuke's birthday celebration had been earlier that evening; school had eaten up the first half of the day and both Teddie and Yukiko were on a limited time frame due to work at Junes and the inn, respectively, so there hadn't been much time to do anything other than grab an early dinner together at Aiya's. It had given Kanji and Rise time to run back home and retrieve the bag of gifts and the batch of artisan cupcakes the pop idle had special-ordered in from a shop in Okina and picked up the day before.

The Team had piled into a little corner in the restaurant, laughing and eating and wishing their friend a happy birthday until it was time for Yukiko and Teddie to leave, with Chie offering to escort her girlfriend home. Up until that point, though, they'd all been so busy that Yosuke had forgotten to open any of his presents. And so, not wanting to open anything without the whole group there for him to thank, he'd decided to just take the sack home with him for the time being, with everyone agreeing to meet up at Souji's place the next day after school for Birthday Dinner Round 2.

So. The bad news: Yosuke more than likely has Souji's stack of love letters that were never meant to see the light of day. Alright. Yes. That is utterly goddamn terrifying.

The good news, however, is that he hadn't opened them before, and probably won't open them until they all get together tomorrow. There is still a chance that Souji could get them back without incident – either by waiting until Yosuke is distracted and sneaking the letters back out of the sack of presents, or by telling Yosuke the partial truth, that Kanji had grabbed something by mistake and could I have those back, please, Partner? Yosuke didn't have to know what they were; Souji could simply say that they were letters from his parents from over the years of them being away while Souji stayed either alone or with other people.

Only... Shit. Yosuke already knows that Souji's parents don't actually write to him. Maybe he could say they were from years ago and he was keeping them for sentimentality's sake and putting them in pretty new envelopes. Or! He could say it's stuff he wrote to them but never sent, because that was marginally closer to the truth, wasn't it? But all of that could be a last resort if he isn't able to just steal the letters back and---!

Someone is calling him.

Souji's careening train of thought comes to a screeching halt as his phone begins to vibrate in his hand, the quiet chirping of his ringtone now like a shout into his ears.

He winches, both from the noise and from the whiplash of being sucked back out of his own head, and, on reflex, he brings the offending piece of technology up to his face to look at the screen.

And then immediately jerks back in panic and chucks his phone across the room where it lands on the futon now decorating his work table.

“Oh god no...”

Yosuke is calling him.

Yosuke is calling him and Souji has no plan of action and no way of knowing if he's already too late to stop the tidal wave of destruction that may or may not be headed his way, and ohhhhh he's hyperventilating now, isn't he? Yes. Yes, he most certainly is.

The chirping finally stops just as Souji's vision starts to haze over with white, leaving his ears ringing with its echos for a good few seconds in the sudden quiet of the room. He can hear his own breathing, the thumping of his pulse through his temples and his neck, but with the silence now hanging heavy over his shoulders he finds himself more grounded than he'd been just moments ago. He sighs, shaking out his arms to try and release some of the tension that's been curling tightly in his limbs, and as the quiet stretches on, he feels his hammering heartbeat begin to slow once more.

It takes him ten minutes to feel like a human again. Still jittery but no longer feeling as if he's going to go blind from lack of oxygen, Souji sighs and starts over towards where his phone rests halfway off his displaced futon, leaning down to check and see if it's intact. It's a mistake; no sooner than he's bent over enough to pick up the phone, there comes a muffled scraping sound, like something moving out on the roof. It's followed by a quiet 'thump' and then the sharp, 'tap-tap-tap!' of knuckles against a pane of glass.

Souji lets out a yelp of surprise – the single most undignified, ungraceful sound he's ever made in his life – and whirls around to stare at the closed curtain like he thinks it might somehow come alive. Without even having to see, Souji already knows exactly who has just climbed up the side of the house.

He bites his lip, tasting the barest hint of salt and blood. Please just go away...

Sadly, it seems that whatever deities might have once been on his side are now ignoring him, because in that beat and a half of silent fear there comes another knock at his window. “Souji!” calls a voice from outside. Right outside, as if the speaker is perched just beyond the window, with only the glass and the curtain to separate them both.

The voice – the all-too-familiar voice – comes again, a little louder and less patient this time. “Hey! Partner, I know you're in there, I can see your lights on. I just heard you!” There is a muffled grunt and a sound like something shifting and Souji still can't seem to move. Three more knocks against the glass.

“Bro, I am stupid and reckless as hell, you know I'll just keep getting louder until Dojima wakes up if I have to.”

And both from his tone and the way the knocking and the whispers seem to get steadily louder, Souji doesn't doubt him for a moment. To be frank, Souji isn't entirely sure his uncle and cousin haven't heard all the commotion already – and he knows that the longer he continues to avoid the other boy, the more suspicious he's making himself look. Damned if he does, damned if he doesn't.

So he gives in. Best to get it over with and accept his fate. Maybe there will still be a way to salvage the situation – or at the very least keep it from escalating. He isn't confident in either choice.

It's just as Yosuke makes one last whisper-shout of, “Dude, let me in!” that Souji finally unsticks himself from the floor and yanks the curtain aside to reveal – yep, just like he'd thought – a rather irritated-looking Yosuke kneeling unsteadily on the slanted overhang covering the front door. With a solemn kind of dread, Souji unlocks the window and slides it open, reaching out to grab his friend by the arm and yank him inside before he can make any more noise.

“Finally!” Yosuke says, once he's landed, still in a harsh pseudo-whisper as he's standing up from his hunch. He glares up at Souji, mouth turned down in a pout, but oddly, there doesn't seem to be any heat behind it all. In fact, as Souji stares, tense and frozen and trying impossibly hard to not give in to his fight-or-flight instincts, he could almost say that Yosuke looks... nervous?

Well of course, he argues to himself, he's probably afraid of you now.

Maybe Souji can play dumb and claim he doesn't know what's going on – or maybe he can dive out the window himself and make a break for the train station. If he's quick enough he might be able to catch the last train of the night.

“The hell happened to your room?” Yosuke mumbles, looking around, and Souji fakes a smile as best he can, though even through his numbing anxiety he can feel how strained it is. “Yosuke,” he tries, nearly tripping over his best friend's name. The smile twitches as he tries to keep it in place. “What're you do--”

He grinds to a halt as the boy he's been in love with for the better part of a year pins him with another sharp amber glare and reaches into his hoodie pocket to pull out the very thing Souji was hoping his partner would never see. He swallows, mouth and throat and tongue all suddenly very dry.

“...I can explain...”

Yosuke fixes him with an unreadable look. He stares at Souji for a moment that stretches painfully on, eyes searching Souji's no doubt devastated face. Eventually he lets out a long exhale though his nose.

“I'm guessing I wasn't supposed to see these?” he says, holding up the stack of yellow-orange-pink envelopes, loosely tied back together with their red string – though it isn't really a question. When Souji doesn't answer, Yosuke nods to himself as if deciding something. He pulls the letters back towards his chest and holds them... almost reverently, looking down at them with a soft sort of expression that Souji has never seen him wear before.

Yosuke turns the letters over in his hands. “I didn't know what they were at first; there wasn't a name or note or anything, so I didn't know who they were from and I thought maybe they'd wound up in the bag by mistake cuz, ya know...” Amber eyes glance back up and for a moment the bridge of his nose is dusted a faint pink. He rolls his wrist, waving his hand in lieu of words. The gesture is entirely unhelpful. “They just...” he starts again, huffing. “They didn't look like the rest of the stuff in the bag? So I thought, this should be okay to open, right? Just the top one? And I was just gonna check and see what these were in case someone was missing something and I figured if they were a gift then I could save the rest for tomorrow, but, uhm...”

And here Yosuke trails off, looking back up at Souji with such a searching look, and Souji has no idea how to read him right now. He just stands there, chest aching as his heart batters the inside of his sternum and the edges of his vision tint grey from where he's neglected proper breathing. This is it, this is where he loses his partner, the best friend he's ever had. Souji could have been content loving Yosuke from afar; maybe not happy, exactly, but content. It wouldn't have destroyed their friendship that way, and Souji could have let himself pretend, every so often when he was alone in the dead of night, that Yosuke loved him back. But now all of that is gone.

And Souji feels his heart beginning to crack.

“I'm sorry...” he whispers, voice thin and brittle. He doesn't know what else to say.

There is another long moment of silence. Souji is expecting a rebuke, something biting and defensive or disgusted, perhaps, but it never comes. Instead, Yosuke's expression seems to twist into something confused and almost hurt.

Yosuke clears his throat awkwardly.“Sorry for...?” he asks, stretching it out as like he's trying to prompt Souji to elaborate. He doesn't say anything for a bit, just waiting, watching his partner's face as if trying to read him.

“I read all of them, you know,” he says at length. His grip on the letters tightens. “Twice.” He glances back down at the sunset-colored envelopes and brushes a thumb across the edge of the topmost one. “And I thought, if this was a joke then it was a shitty one.” An anxious fingernail picks at the red string. He huffs. “But if it wasn't and you meant it, then...” A swallow. “It was probably the best birthday present I've ever gotten...” He looks up then, and the glimmering, guarded hope hidden in the lines of his face is enough to shove all the remaining air from Souji's lungs.

Because there is no way he could possibly be this lucky.

Taking a deep, deep breath in, Yosuke squares his shoulders, lifts his chin, and steps forwards until he's less than half a foot away from Souji's face, close enough that Souji can feel the other boy's rapid breathing in faint bursts against his own skin – and suddenly his heart is fluttering for an entirely different reason.

Face red, Yosuke stares directly into Souji's eyes and quietly says, “Did you mean it?”

And Souji breathes a quiet, honest, “Yes.”

Yosuke's eyes widen. “...Yes?” he repeats, like he can't quite believe it.

Souji nods. “Every word.”

And then Yosuke's fingers are fisted into the collar of Souji's shirt, pulling him down to crash their mouths together in a messy, awkward kiss. The angle is a little off, their lips not quite meeting they way that they should, and Souji has no idea what he's doing with his hands as he hesitantly brings them up to rest one on Yosuke's arm and the other on his hip.

It's perfect.

They part a few seconds later, Souji's face and neck and ears burning just as hot as Yosuke's look, but neither make any move to step away.

Yosuke's mouth twitches up at one corner in a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” he mumbles, “I wanted to do that before I lost my nerve.”

Souji laughs – not a real one, just a puff of disbelieving breath – and returns the almost-smile as something warm blooms inside his chest. “I love you,” he whispers, and never in his life could he have imagined just how good it feels to finally say it aloud, free of the fear of hatred and rejection.

Yosuke ducks his head as the blush burns further up his ears. The shy, bright grin spreading across his face, however, is beautiful.

“...Love you, too, Partner.”

Beaming, Souji can't help but wrap his arms around his friend and pull him into a hug, burying his face in the soft brown hair at Yosuke's temple. He doesn't cry, but he can feel his shoulders shaking; he doesn't have the focus to tell if it's from relief or something else. “Never thought I'd hear you say that,” he admits quietly, feeling safer with his face hidden from Yosuke's view.

The other boy brings his own arms up to encircle Souji's ribs, giving his back a gentle pat with the hand not still holding the stack of letters. “Yeah, well,” he says, and there is a bewildered chuckle in his voice. “I never thought you were secretly writing me love letters, but here we are.”

Oh!

Souji pulls back from the hug as a thought hits him. He tries not to give in to the little noise of unhappiness Yosuke makes as Souji steps away, having to actively will his feet to take him over to the desk instead of back into his friend's arms. Luckily it's not far, nor does his purpose for being there last more than a moment or two as he snatches up the letter he'd written earlier, now the only one left that Yosuke hasn't yet read. He pivots on the ball of his foot, turning his final step towards the desk into a single fluid motion that carries him back to Yosuke, and holds the creamsicle-orange envelope out for the other boy to take. He smiles, giddy and shy. “Happy birthday, Yosuke.”

Yosuke smiles to match his own, honey-brown eyes warm as he gently takes the letter from Souji's hand and places it on top of the bundle still in his grip, tucking a thumb into the envelope's unsealed flap. “It is, yeah.” He leans in to close the distance between them once again and stretches up until he can touch his lips to Souji's in a chaste, sweet kiss. “Got everything I wanted.”

(Souji brings Kanji a homemade lunch every day for a month.)

#fanfic #persona 4 #souyoweek2020 #fanfiction #souyo #souji seta #yu narukami #yosuke hanamura #Kanji Tatsumi

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stardew-imagines-me · 5 years

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SDV WINGS AU

My wings au for SDV is basically just,,,, everyone has wings now!! But much like body types and people, every wing shape comes in different shapes and sizes

Hnngggg I adore the wings au so much you don’t even know

Here’s a simple description of each bachelor(ette)’s pairs of wings without bird definitions ->

Bachelors

Harvey - Harvey has very large wings, bulky enough for him to fly with and span wide and strong but he doesn’t use them much. He prefers to walk, and drones out the comments on how grateful he should be for his beautiful and strong wings. His wings are a simple shade of light brown.

Elliot - Elliot also has a similar wing shape to Harvey’s, if not a little smaller. Though, his wings are always preened and well taken care of, shimmering a soft flame orange in the sun when he takes flight; although not often since he also prefers to walk places.

Shane - Shane’s wings are bulkier than most, strong like Harvey’s but very fluffy and messy unlike Elliot’s. His wings are quite large in span, reaching far past his shoulders but that’s not to say that sit up long. The best way to describe them are thick and hefty. His wings are a mix of blacks and dark browns.

Sebastian - Sebastian has very dinky wings. He is quite skinny therefore the amount his wings have to carry isn’t all that much, making it so they naturally grow small and help him fly fast. His wings are a ravens purple black.

Sam - Sam’s wings are medium sized much like Shane’s, but a little less muscular in the way of Sebastian’s. He can fly fast, and easy but his wings aren’t as strong or flexible. The color is a dusty yellow flecked with pale oranges, often compared to a pastel sunset.

Alex - Alex, being the thicc mans he is, has large, strong wings that can pick him up for long amounts of time but are a little slow in flight. He likes to fly and often compares his wing size as a bragging right until it comes to Elliot and Harvey, in which he tucks his wings back and keeps quiet. His wings start light brown and feather tips dipped white.

Bachelorettes

Leah - Leah has medium wings that are a little weaker than most, often due to not really bothering to preen properly and having to deal with the painful feeling of a risky blood feather because of it. She prefers walking but flies when absolutely necessary. Her wings are a light amber color.

Penny - Since Penny is quite petite much like Sebastian, her wings are small and not as robust as most of females around her are. She flies from time to time in order to keep her wings strong and healthy but like to keep to herself. Her wings are an ivory white.

Emily - Oddly, Emily has quite small wings compared to her sister, standing on the lower medium side of the scale. Though, it doesn’t stop her from flying around everywhere she can and flexing her wings whenever possible. Her wings are a dark blue.

Abigail - Abigail has a larger set of wings in order to lift the correct amount of weight. Her wings are built and strong, long in span and easily comparable to Alex’s. Her wings are a dark purple.

Haley - Haley also has quite a large set of wings which is quite odd considering her petite weight. Though, thankfully for her large wings, it’s effortless to fly for long periods of time but preening takes nearly forever. Her wing color is a straw blonde color that nearly fits her hair color.

Maru - Maru has a medium set of wings, good for efficient flying but not welcome for unnecessary commutes. She doesn’t mind the length of her wings or how strong they are, just as long as they can take her places when she needs to be there. Though, she likes to tease Sebastian about how her wings are bigger than his. Her wings are a dark brown that fade lighter as you go down.

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mwub · 5 years

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Etched in Stone

Chapter 1: Celestite

Sorry for taking so long, I’ve been moving and have limited internet access so I’m not online as often as I would like😅.

Anyways this is the first chapter for my multi fic Etched in Stone, thank you @ineffable-nalu for beta reading it, it gave me some ideas how to progress the story better

Without further ado~

——————————————————————————-

“Mama!”

“Yes dear?”

“Can you tell me our story?”

“Lucy dear, you've heard that story what must be a thousand times. Are you sure you want to add another to that tally?” A regal blond woman laughed at the expense of her now pouting daughter. The little girl greatly resembled her mother both in bearing and in looks. Golden blond hair framed her round but not too round face, a light dusting of freckles crossed the bridge of her button nose underneath large chocolate brown eyes, now sparkling with wonder as her mother began the story.

“Long ago,” Layla hummed, tucking Lucy deeper into her bed. Brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “There was nothing, no animals, no plants, no people to call Earthland home. For Earthland did not yet exist. And then one day the sun and moon, who loved each other very much but could not be together began to cry for they were lonely and wanted to share what they have with others. From those tears came life.”

“When the moons tears fell, so did the stars, oceans formed and moved to the moons silent songs. When the suns fell, volcanoes reached high up for the heavens in hopes of one day meeting the stars.”

“Get to the part about how real life formed mama”

“I’m getting there sweetheart” Layla laughed in reply.

“When the volcanoes split the earth, so did the ocean in response, creating lakes, rivers, and streams. And in some areas so cold the oceans becomes living stone.”

“ But it was not enough for the Sun and Moon, for they wanted more. They wanted children of their own. So in desperation they shed more tears and breathed life into the environments of their own creation. From the sea the first mermaids and mermen sang their first songs. From the stars came the first celestial priests and priestesses. And from the volcanoes came…”

“Dragons” Came an excited squeal from underneath a mountain of blankets.

“Uh huh, from the deep depths of volcanoes came Dragons. Now, when the Sun and Moon formed their children , they warned them that they must not consort with humans, for it will bring disaster. The creatures of the sea and stars agreed but the king of the dragons did not. He believed one should love who they wanted and did so anyway.”

Lucy clutched her dragon plushie tighter in anticipation.

“The Sun and Moon grew angry with the dragon and so cursed him with his disobedience. Never to be seen again”

“Whatever happened to the rest of the creatures, mama?”

“Despite obeying the Sun and Moon, the others were punished as well for fear of rebellion. Their powers locked away in the stones for which they were born, serving as relics to a great betrayal. Living as ordinary beings amongst the humans they were told to fear.”

Lucys eyes began to droop as a deep yawn escaped her, sleep taking its toll. Layla smiled lovingly at her daughter, reaching to wind a small music box on her bedside, delicate music tinkling gently.

“What do you think happened to the Dragon mama?”

“ Well I would hope he’s found peace, one who loves too much shouldn’t suffer forever.”

“Good night my Darling... “ Was the last thing Lucy heard before letting sleep take her.

———————————————————————

“What do you mean you don’t have any of those kinds of books?”

“We sell fact not fiction mam, as I’m sure you are well aware of that by now miss Heartfilia.” A flat voice drawled in reply, timbre as dull as the face making it.

19 Year old Lucy Heartfilia couldn’t believe it, this was the third town she had visited that refused to sell any of the old lore books, believing them to be blasphemous to the sacred teachings of Zentopia. She had really hoped that Hargeons famous library would be different but no such luck.

Oh well, time for good ol’ plan T.

‘Are you sure there isn't any dusty old books hidden the back~” Batting her eyelashes with gusto, leaning onto the counter, giving the store keeper a peak at her generous cleavage.

“A-Absolutely not! For the last time miss, no one carries that type of literature anymore, the church ordered their burning years ago.” The old man blustered with a face as red as a Roma tomato. “I couldn't sell you any even if could get my hands on a tome”

“Now get out”

“Stupid old Geezer’ Lucy huffed outside the shop now, refitting her paperwork back into her leather satchel and straightening her dark blue tartan skirt and white button down blouse topped with a adorable black vest. She had even dressed the part too, a scholarly student researching for a history project. What a waste of time, Another day, another bust.

Oh right, I forgot to introduce myself didn't I? My name is Lucy Heartfilia, daughter of Layla and Jude Heartfilia, Jude being a local bank owner and Layla a seamstress, at least they were until the economy crash 13 years ago. Jude died of a stroke from over working and mama… let's just say fate had other plans for her. I’ve essentially been on my own since I was 15, with only a few belongings of my own I've been on my own ever since.

Taking out her notebook Lucy couldn’t help but sigh, there goes Hargeon off her list, uncapping her marker to cross it off. At least that’s what she was trying to do when life hit her with an unexpected surprise. A pink one in fact.

Before she could even put the tip of her permanent marker to the paper she suddenly was shoved to the hard concrete, black ink streaking across her cheek in a zigzag. Oh NO, her makeup was completely ruined.

Rising up on her elbows to give whatever hit her a piece of her mind Lucy was stopped short by something extremely odd. No, not something. Someone.

As her vision cleared she was confronted first with dark, almost black green eyes inches from her own chocolate ones, and even more oddly. Salmon pink hair sticking up in a messy disarray of spikes all over his head, almost seeming intentional in its unruly chaos.

Next was the alarmingly warm hands on either side of her waist, breaking the fall of what Lucy now realized was a boy perhaps her own age. Lucy could say for a matter of fact he was good looking, decently built with a muscular physique comparable to a pro athletes and a perfect tan to boot. Yes, definitely cute.

Lucy didn’t get to ponder for long as the stranger then suddenly jumped to his feet with surprising agility, his hands bringing her up with him in a rush that had her head swim a little dizzily. One hand on her waist and the other holding her own limp hand.

“Watch where you’re walking weirdo, don’t wanna get yourself hurt do you?’ The boy laughed, still holding her a little too close for a stranger to be doing. What’s with this guy?

“Excuse me? You bumped into me, who the heck sprints down the street like that without looking where they’re going” Lucy huffed, her head finally clearing from the shock of her present situation.

The boy only smirked. “Oh I know I where I was going, you just happened to be in the way. What's the point of going somewhere if you don’t know where you’re headed”

“I-I Know where I’m going” Lucy blushed. “I’m going to the Magnolia after I finish my work here.” Lucy finished with a sense of finality,gripping her satchel more firmly, why would he even ask that silly question? Of course she knows where she’s going.

“Ok… well in that case you were walking in the wrong direction. Magnolia isWest, not East of here.” Snickered her mystery boy.

“Oh, well thank you” Lucy coughed a little awkwardly, taking a step back finally to take in his full appearance finally. He really was in excellent shape. Broad shoulders tapered sharply under a black one armed waistcoat trimmed with gold thread, cream trousers held up by a similar colored sash around his waist and a pair of black sandals adorned his feet simply. The collar of his jacket open just enough for Lucy to get a glimpse of toned chest littered with faint white scars.

A bit of an odd outfit in Lucy’s opinion, but for whatever reason it seemed to suit him.

“What’s your name?” The boy asked suddenly, snapping Lucy back to reality.

“Lucy… Lucy Heartfilia” Answering automatically, Lucy cursed herself, she just met this boy and she already felt the need to spill all her secrets. Aquarius would be ashamed of her. Never trust a man with your secrets, secrets are a woman's best hand in a war.

“Thats a nice name,” Pinkie whistled. “My names N-”

“STOP RIGHT THERE! THIEF” A booming voice rang out over the stone courtyard, suddenly dozens of Zentopian royal guards flooded surrounding area.

“Thief..” Lucy whispered, eyes widening slowly.

“Crap” N growled, his Happy Go Lucky demeanor suddenly dropping as he made a run for it, he was practically a blur as he made a mad dash onto a more crowded street and seemed to vanish among the crowds of the local shopping district and boutiques.

“Excuse me miss” A grave looking guard approached Lucy. “Do you happen to know anything about this boy?” Holding up what appears to be a wanted poster of N. Except instead of the seemingly happy guy she just met, she was greeted with the face of a much more menacing looking criminal. Sharp soulless eyes pierced her soul with malice and a cruel sneer curved his lips. She did not know this person.

“No, nothing at all.” Lucy said curtly. Keeping a firm jaw in hopes of not giving anything away. While it was true she didn’t know anything about him, she wanted to. Gripping her satchel more firmly in an effort to stand her ground, she stared back at the guard.

Giving her a hard look the guard finally deemed her innocent enough and thankfully moved on to interrogate more passerby.

Releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding, she bent down to collect some of the papers that had fallen with her unexpected date with the ground, noting that some appeared to be missing or at the very least out of order. She’ll check on that later on the train to Magnolia.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts of pink hair and a fanged grin, Lucy slowly made her way to the train station with vague hopes of catching the last train of the evening. Better luck tomorrow she guessed.

#fairy tail #fairy tail 100 year quest #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu #ft fanfiction #nalu fanfiction

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walkerduchess · 5 years

Text

A Game of Hearts - Chapter Six: Unbarred (The Royal Romance AU)

Pairing: Drake x MC [Liam x MC]

Notes: I posted this chapter days ago and then deleted it. I’ve been considering stop posting this story since it seems no one reads it, but decided to finish it for myself (because I love it) and post it here anyway because who knows maybe someone will enjoy it.

Anyway, this chapter is more descriptive than my previous ones so I had a hard time writing it (sorry in anticipation if it’s not very good). Anyway, if anyone is still reading this (thank you so much for reading!!!), I would really like to know what you’re thinking and how you’re enjoying it!

I do not own these characters, they belong to Pixelberry.

Summary: Princess Sapphire finds unexpected allies during her journey, while Prince William has to deal with the aftermath of her leaving.

Word Count: 4029

Tagging: I’m tagging everyone who asked me to. If you want in or out the list just let me know! @confessionsofabrokegirl, @museofbooks, @stopforamoment, @scarlettedragon, @annekebbphotography, @queenodysseia

Prologue: Promised

Chapter One: Unveiled

Chapter Two: Tied

Chapter Three: Acknowledged

Chapter Four: Disarmed

Chapter Five: Gone

Chapter Six: Unbarred

Even after all the years researching and studying, Sophie could not anticipate what the outside world would look like. She’s never been outside of the kingdom, not even to Thorngate, which is the closest to Stormholt. As she wandered outside the limits of the kingdom in the early morning hours after leaving the castle, she noticed how the grass would get less green and more yellow, almost in a dead-like tone. Also, the trees got smaller and rarer with each mile she would walk.

She had to walk, after all, using a car to travel all the way to the south would not only get too much unwanted attention, but also she would probably run directly into the war, since there is only one main road connecting each of the four kingdoms. That being, she was forced to use the woods as well as the abandoned parts of the country to sneak her way into the enemy realm.

Sophie’s been on this alternative route for a week now. It is certainly no view she can find in her books. Well, no one was there after the end of the world to register how a big city looks after being destroyed and abandoned. From her calculations with Hana, the travel by foot to the South kingdom would last a little over two months. She is still close enough from her kingdom to find some villages, made of small groups of people who wished to live out of the city, around the very few and very scattered fertile soil that can be found there.

She has barely slept, trying to find some comfortable position on the floors of dusty, abandoned old buildings, in a mood of constant alert. She can hide her trail well, yet it’s only sensible to be wary of people trying to harm a girl travelling alone. Especially if they suspect that girl to be the crown princess.

At least it gives her more time to finish the Device, in the hours before falling asleep. She knows she has time, although she is a little late on schedule, and that she must get some pieces on the way south, but she’s rather anxious to finally see it finished. The thing that will save the world.

She wakes up early this morning to see if a little rest can bring her luck in removing the tiny screw that got stuck between the lenses of the Device last night. Her fingers, or any of her tools, are not small enough to retrieve it without putting too much pressure on the lenses and risking breaking them. Much to her dismay, nothing has changed this morning.

“Shit.” She mutters to herself, packing her belongings before getting up to resume her travel. She’ll find a solution soon enough, so it’s no use to stress about it now.

A few hours later, Sophie approaches one of the vendings in the small villa she’s passing through, amazed by how the apples being sold there can be as red as they are in Stormholt, when they’re grown in this death-colored place. She takes one in her hand to find out it’s firm enough, and looks up at the old woman inside the vending.

“I’ll have eight.” She supposes it’s enough to last a few days without rotting.

“Eight?!” The old lady looks intrigued. “Are they all for yourself?”

The princess knits her brows together, wondering how on earth this can concern the seller. ‘Yes.” She answers nonetheless. “Will this do?” The girl asks, taking a medium-sized bottle of lamb milk out of her bag and placing it in the counter which separates the two women..

“Yes, definitely.” The woman looks impressed, almost as if she’s never seen milk before. “I see you’re a traveller.” She says while she packs the apples, motioning with her head to Sophie’s bag, now at her feet in front of her. “I’ve never seen your lovely face around here before. Are you from the south?”

Oh no, that’s exactly what the princess wants to avoid. Until now, she has been successful in not getting second looks from people, and she wishes it stays this way.

“Umm, no, I’m from around here.” She answers nervously, rushing to put the apples in her bag and bringing it back to her shoulders. The old lady opens her mouth, but Sophie adds in before any words can come out. “Thanks.”

Rapidly walking away, the girl resumes her travel. She won’t admit it to herself yet, but her feet are already getting a little sore from all the walking.

She waits until daylight begins diminishing to find another empty building to rest. The one she enters looks only half up, with piles of concrete, glass and wood on the other half. It has a very large hall and a couple of small rooms in the back. It doesn’t take long for Sophie to realize it has been a church once. She has seen figures of churches in her books, and looking around the one she’s in, it is possible to picture in her mind what it used to look like in its whole grandeur.

She leaves her bag in what used to be the front of the church and steps into one of the small rooms to the side. She thinks she’s seen some books there, and she’s right. There are dozens of them, sadly most are too degraded to be read. If only she can find room in her bag for a couple of the good ones…

And then she hears it. Sophie’s been so enthralled by the books she got herself distracted. There are footsteps inside the church. Her blood grows cold and her hand moves to retrieve her sword from the holster.

Holding the sword in front of her, the girl takes one deep breath before stepping out of the small room. She does a quick scan of the area and notices one person with their hands on the bag she’s left in the front of the church.

“Hey!” Sophie yells, startling the stranger. They turn their gaze towards her, and she realizes it’s only a boy who can’t be older than thirteen. He dashes through the hall holding the package of apples she got earlier, and she doesn’t have to think twice before running after him.

She follows the young thief through some abandoned streets, a mixture of gray and brown from the concrete and the dirt dancing around them, even some green at times, though her focus remains on the boy. He suddenly turns a corner and seconds later she follows, only to find the boy is facing her holding a sword of his own.

The princess is momentarily taken aback. She doesn’t know if she wants to fight a boy who isn’t even holding the sword in the right way over some apples. Damn, he doesn’t even reach her own height, and she is not a tall woman. Yet, she has to know if he is just a thief or if he poses a threat against her. Cautiously, she takes one step forward, but the boy raises his blade higher.

“Stop right there!” There’s authority in his voice, but she can see uncertain in his gray eyes. Giving him a proper look, she notices how dirty his light brown hair and clothes are. There is one fine black line inked on his lower lip and all the way down to below his chin.

Sophie lowers her sword in one of her hands. “We can share the apples.”

Before the boy can give an answer, two heads peek in from behind another curve further back in the alley. He notices her switch of gaze and looks behind him. “Get back, you two!”

However, they don’t obey, and only show themselves more, so Sophie can see clearly now that one of them is a girl with blond hair, bronze skin and matching olive eyes, who appears to be around eight or nine years old. The other one, a boy - this one cannot be older than six, the thick black hair stuck in his forehead contrasting with his pale skin and blue eyes in an almost magical way. Both of them look overall dirty and hungry, and the sight alone is enough to lower all of the princess’ guards.

“I’m…” Her sword is completely hanging from her hand now, as she looks to the older boy in front of her. “I’m not going to hurt you.” She drops the sword to the ground as to prove her words, and extends one of her hands to him.

She knows she is taking a risk she really shouldn’t, but somehow in her heart she is certain these kids aren’t dangerous. They just look… lost.

“What are your names?” She asks, looking at the boy and them shifting her gaze to the younger children.

“Don’t answer her!” The older boy shouts, turning his head to glare at the children, though their eyes are friendly.

“It’s fine.” She tries to give the boy a reassuring look. Although he keeps his sword up, she notices he is starting to give in. “I’m Aurelia.” If she’s going to let herself known, she should be Aurelia again. She can’t deny she likes it, and the freedom that comes with.

“I’m Elliot.” The younger boy speaks up, causing the older to turn around to him again.

“Lott! Jon told us not to tell!” The girl scolds him.

The older boy turns back to Aurelia with a sigh, finally resting his sword down in defeat, lines in his face disappearing as it grows softer. He then glares at her, narrowing his eyes again. “Jonah. What do you want?”

Aurelia can barely hide the amused look in her face upon seeing the effort it took the boy to put up his defensive facade. “Well, for starters, I’d like my apples back.”

“You said we can share.” The little boy, Elliot, speaks again, his voice is firm for a child so small.

The princess can’t help but smile. She likes this one. “And we can. I’ve got some bread back in the old church too, if you care to join me.” She answers the boy, but looks at all three of them. “Are the three of you alone?”

Elliot and the still unnamed girl nod.

“We’ve got each other.” Jonah does not look pleased, face settled on a frown. “And why would you do that? What do you want from us?”

“Your company on a meal?” She offers them a smile. Jonah’s face remains still as he only crosses his arms and stares at her. “...And maybe a very small hand to reach something for me.” She has to admit, after she decided to introduce herself to these children, an idea lit up in her mind. That little boy’s fingers would certainly reach her stuck tiny screw so she can keep up with her project. They can help each other, right?

Liam feels exhausted. He has barely gotten any sleep at all since Sophie visited one week ago, and the last conversation with Drake only made him more nervous. No, he can’t tell him, his best friend, that she left willingly, and he doesn’t even know why not. He only knows she asked him not to and he hates himself right now for being so devoted to her and meeting her requests without a second thought. But that’s not even half of it and he can’t even lie to himself. Truly, he hates himself for - always - staying silent, for not stopping her from walking out of his room or going after her.

He marches towards the library, a place so ingrained with her that he almost shivers when he stops by the door. His body freezes but his mind is racing, wishing he could take it back, not only the past week, but all of the past years, years feeling too small before her overflowing presence to actually do something. Too mesmerized by her to listen to what she really had to say. Realization dawns upon him slowly, but heavy - of course he wouldn’t be a strong enough reason for her to stay.

And now, everyone thinks she’s been kidnapped. He’s the only one who knows the truth - does that count for something? Well, if she’s let him know, it could mean he can find her.

Liam pushes open the grand wooden door and steps into the very empty library. He knew it would be, but that’s not the room he’s searching for. His fingertips graze the cover of some books in one of the shelves. How could he forget? He has found Sophie here various times, but there was the one time where she took him somewhere else. Somewhere right behind one of this shelves, but he doesn’t know which one or how. He could have payed more attention, but he was only nineteen and too excited to be doing something special with her to give a second thought about his surroundings, let alone about the importance of what she was showing him.

“Do you see anything?” Her voice resonates sweetly in the empty library as she ties the piece of dark cloth around the prince’s head.

“No.” He answers, a playful smile on his lips.

“Great, wait up there.”

He does as he is told and seconds later he hears a click, followed by a louder sound, like something heavy being moved. Before he can ask, he feels her hands on his arm, pulling him to the direction from where the sounds came.

Liam is sure by the amount of steps he took he should have collided face first in one of the shelves already. He is about to voice his confusion when the princess halts, placing a hand on his shoulder for him to stop too.

“Stay still, just a second.” She calls again, her voice already behind him, and then he hears the noises again. The sound that reminds him of furniture being moved and then a soft click.

He can hear her taking a breath and then feeling her very close to him. He’s somewhere between dying to know what’s going to happen and thrilled with anticipation. It looked like it’s a good surprise when she announced it earlier, after all.

In a swift move, she takes the piece of cloth from his head and the first thing he sees is her face. She is staring at him with her caramel eyes and a smile that brings her cheekbones slightly higher. It enhances the almost imperceptible freckles on them and he swears in his heart that he will never get tired of looking at her. Without even noticing, he is smiling too.

She is the one to break the silence. “I want to show you something.”

The girl then turns around and away from him and he finally takes in his surroundings. They’re in a large room, with a big table in the center and a smaller one to the side, next to them. He notices the room is a bit dusty in its corners, and there are books and other objects scattered all over the floor and on the bigger table. He can’t really recognize what these strange objects are, they look like parts of various different things.

On the table beside them, though, there is only one item, which resembles a big metal box covered by a glass, joined with smaller pieces of metal and glasses. As he observes it, she comes near it again, carrying a piece of paper in her hand. He doesn’t understand whatever she is doing, but she places what he can see now is an illustrated page of a book on top of the bigger metal box and her hands move some pieces of the equipment.

Liam just stands there, silent while he watches the princess walks to turn the lights of the room out and then comes back. She presses one final button on the item beside them and something like magic happens. A light comes out from the device and to the wall in front of them, lighting up a perfect rectangle on it. Not only that, but the figure from the page appears in front of him, a man wearing a very red coat. From where he is standing, the man is almost his own size, and he can see even the smallest details of the image.

He is left gaping at the image in front of him for a while, and then moves his gaze toward the girl again to find she is already looking at him expectantly. “Did you do this?”

She almost looks flustered by his question. “I… I built it, yes. The people from before called it a projector.”

And then she goes on and on about this piece of tech, her talk excited but he can’t truly listen. Liam is so marveled by her he can only think how incredible she is. Is there more she can do? More that she knows? After years of knowing her, he is still left agape by her. It seems like the more he knows her, the more there is to know. Just when he thinks she is within his grasp, Sophie shows him how far away they still are.

His hands move furiously through the books, dropping several to the floor nonchalantly - what’s the use of them now that there is no one to read? - and he is just about to give up when he finds it. A very small, metallic button on the inside of the shelf wall. When he pushes it, he hears a click sees the shelf in front of him open a little, just like a big, heavy door made of books.

Astonished, he pushes it open walks through it - and just like that he’s there. Back to that secret chamber Sophie has shared with him.

All the hope he had of finding a clue or anything that could make him find her is crushed away when he looks around the completely empty room. He’s so tired and disappointed that he can feel tears start to slip from his eyes. He decides then to close the door behind him and stay there - with silence for company - just for a while.

The bread was still edible but that is not what made her smile during the course of this meal. It felt good to have some company, to actually interact with other people, even if they were only children. Aurelia’s learned the girl name is Eleonora, and the boys call her Nora. She doesn’t talk nearly as much as Elliot but enough for Aurelia to know a life of hardship didn’t take away her sweetness. Jonah ate in silence, only making small, rispid remarks now and then, but Aurelia noticed he watched her every move, even while pretending to be paying attention to the food.

The princess also learned that they are not really going anywhere. They were on their own as long as they can remember, parents died or simply forgot them. In times of war, you never know. The three of them found each other along the way and managed to stay alive.

“What do you need my help with?” Elliot asks, mouth still full with his last piece of bread.

“Well,” Aurelia gets up from the floor and walks up to her bag. The Device is big and heavy, so it takes her some time to properly place it on the floor in front of all of them, “I let a tiny screw get stuck in this project I’m working on.”

All three pair of eyes widen a little at the sight of the strange piece of tech, making them all get up from their seats. Elliot is the first to approach it.

“Don’t touch it, Elliot.” Jonah’s commanding voice is back and his brows furrow.

“It’s safe.” The princess assures him. “It’s not a weapon.” She turns back to the device which Elliot is clearly dying to touch. “Do you see it here?” She points to the lenses with the stuck metal piece.

“Yes!” He answers animatedly and it doesn’t even take five seconds for his little fingers to dive between the lenses and bring the screw out. “What does it do?” He turns his head up to look at the young woman.

Aurelia notices Jonah and Eleonora not very distant behind them, also waiting for the answer. She thought about this during the whole time they’ve been eating. Telling anyone was definitely not in the plan. However, finishing the Device alone during the trip was part of the plan and a few days in she already realized it would be far more difficult that she and Hana predicted. Maybe the plan needs to be adjusted. And these kids are probably the safest help she can get. They’re alone and uncompromised. Sure, travelling with children would probably double the duration of the trip, but if it means she would arrive at her destination with the Device ready and functional, it is worth it. Or so she hopes.

“I’ll tell you… if you promise not to tell anyone.”

“I don’t talk to anyone other than Jon and Nora.” Elliot answers while Jonah and Eleonora just nod.

Aurelia takes a long breath before explaining, in the easiest way she can think of, how this device will purify the water stream from its poison. They listen, and as soon as she thinks she can get away with only that without telling them who she is or why this is so important, the one question arrives. She should’ve expected it, but she hoped they wouldn’t ask that, for the answer to this question changes everything.

Eleonora is the one to ask it. “How do they clean the water, currently?”

Soon enough, the whole evening turns into a history lesson. A very careful lesson, after all she doesn’t wish to traumatize the kids. Also, she has yet to comprehend what is the notion they have of right and wrong, and she needs them on her side, especially now.

Aurelia decides to call it for the day after explaining what the North Kingdom does what it does and why. The two youngest are soon sleeping in the side room of the church, cozy in a couple of blankets the princess had in her bag. Jonah is still outside, Aurelia knows he still wants to talk, so she goes to him.

The boy is staring at the outside when she joins him, and he doesn’t look at her to ask. “Who are you? Why are you doing all this alone?”

The young woman smiles to herself. Jonah won’t let anything slip past him. He finally switches his gaze to her, eyes attentive and waiting for an answer. Aurelia can’t see anything else in them, about what’s going on in his mind, but she does see worry there. Worry that should not be in the eyes of someone so young, yet with so much responsibility already. And when she tells him, she sees it, the pressure he puts on himself to protect not only the two children sleeping inside, but all of those around him. She recognizes it, for she carries it since a young age too, a burden to be the one who saves the world.

“I…” His mouth twitches. “I cannot protect you, your Highness.” He finally blurts out, staring at the floor.

Her eyebrows knit together as her mind quickly meanders through countless thoughts. Who is this kid? What made him have this as his first thought upon hearing the truth about her?

“It is not your duty to protect me, Jonah.” She speaks rather desperately as she places a hand in his shoulder, wanting to make this boy - young, way too young for what she’s about to get him into - understand that she’s not here as a princess. She’s in this mission, the most important mission of all, as the executor, and she needs help. And, right now, her help consists of these three children. Besides, something inside her is telling her that she is, too, the best help they can get for now.

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onomatophia · 6 years

Text

title: the fools who dream

pairing: naruino; implied sasusaku

notes: wrote this as a birthday gift for myself. rewatched la la land and it made me..... Feel Things. this movie hurts so fucking much. that 7-minute What Could've Been sequence was one of the most emotionally taxing experiences of my life

also: naruto and la la land are not mine (i wish)

—

here's to the ones who dream

foolish as they may seem

here's to the hearts that ache

here's to the mess we make

—

it starts at a wedding.

she; a struggling singer working on small gigs here and there, hoping to catch a break and make it big in the world someday, and

he; a clumsy busboy aspiring to be a successful chef and restaurateur one day.

they were dreamers. falling in love was not in their to do list, especially not on a mid-july day in the middle of a wedding they're not even invited to but are paid to attend to do their jobs. their hearts were too busy yearning for faraway dreams for it to start beating for another person.

but fall in love they did, anyway.

it was but a typical day. they were just meant to do their jobs, go back into the comfort of their apartments, drink booze, and watch whatever it is that's on the television until they fall asleep.

he did not plan to stumble about in the reception area, spill a few drinks, hear her singing, and ogle at her majestic form in the stage, clad in a lavender dress with her blonde hair let down to her waist that he imagines is as silky as the satin sheets on his bestfriends' apartment.

she did not expect to catch the eyes of a blond haired man with his shirt drenched with red wine, standing in the side of the ballroom looking like a lost boy, feeling like she's drifting as she falls into its ocean blue depths.

it was like straight out of a romance movie. there they stand, a few feet apart, eyes locked with each other, she was singing a love song, he looks like lovestruck fool and everything was suddenly on pause. everyone stopped dancing, bored looking aunts stopped asking for more drinks, the groomsmen frozen as they try to flirt with the bridesmaids.

it was only them, a love song, and a once upon a time with a promise of a happily ever after. a love story to tell their future children about.

—

it unfolds slowly at first. a few dates, flirting here and there, texting each other during work, holding hands, nighttime strolls towards ichiraku for dinner after her gig, plucked flowers for her from his apartment neighbor's plants, chaste kisses on the lips every night.

they exchange stories about their childhood, first dates gone wrong in the past, her favorite songs, his favorite food, funny anecdotes about his two bestfriends who finally got married after years of tiptoeing around each other, and why he likes the color orange so much.

he finds out how she came to be a broke singer from being a science major. she came to know he wanted to be a chef like his late father and how no one wanted to hire a college dropout with no prior work experience and who did not even go to a culinary school.

he learns that music is her soul and that she loves jazz, classical music and rock. she finds out he secretly likes taylor swift and beyonce even when he keeps insisting that he's a fan of the beatles and queen.

she tells him she will hold sold-out concerts one day and there will always be a seat in the front row reserved especially for him. he tells her he will own a restaurant one day and he will add her favorite food on the menu and name it after her.

they fall into her bed on a warm thursday night, where fixing her broken lightbulb in the bathroom, turned into a few teasing to a passionate make-out, and before they knew it, they're already bared of their clothes. they memorized each other's bodies with their hands, filled the room with sighs and words of tomorrow's promise, their names echoing in the night like a prayer. they filled each other's blank spaces, every touch felt like a fire burning through their skin, every kisses felt like what sinners go to church to. it was an unfamiliar dance yet they still manage to fall into step and meet each other halfway like they've been doing this all their lives.

they're a few steps away from love, but they're getting there anyway.

—

they begin to learn each other.

slowly, he took up space in her life. his jokes, his touches, boisterous laughters, the color orange, the taste of miso ramen, the calluses of his palms, and the stars in his eyes tucked into the lyrics of the love songs she wrote.

he gradually filled her heart the way his clothes slowly piled up on her sofa and ends up taking space in her closet. their toothbrush, an embarrassingly bright orange one and a soft lavender one rests inside a chipped giveaway mug. now there is a bottle of chocolate syrup beside the maple syrup, milk cartons taking the place where beer bottles once stood, vegetables replacing the unhealthy amount of bacon stocked in the fridge and her once empty cupboard were now filled with ingredients for ramen.

and if he could, he would write a volumes worth of books about how she makes him feel. but he can only tell jokes, let her take every one of his hoodie jackets, make her coffee in the morning and tea in the afternoons just the way she likes it, tuck her hair into her ear, sink into her as if his life depended on it, and touch her in places that elicits gasps and pants in a silent way of his that shouts i love you.

she adapts his weird mannerisms, he starts to mimic her slangs. he learns to cook her favorite food, she sings taylor swift songs that he will not admit he likes. he became her favorite audience in her nighttime gigs, she became his food taster even when he thinks her palate is as bland as noodles without sauce. he is now her muse and she, his favorite customer he serves his delightful dishes to every night.

he buys her a strawberry flavored ice cream and lots of tissues when she comes home from a failed audition. she attempts to cook spaghetti and meatballs for him after another failed job interview but always ends up making a mess in the kitchen which is okay because it makes him laugh.

they develop a habit and routine; she sleeps on the right side of the bed with her purple pillows, he on the left side with his orange ones. he will wake up at seven and start to cook breakfast because he will not allow her to live off on coffee alone throughout the whole day on his watch. she will wake up at eight, eat bacon and pancakes with him and kiss him goodbye when he leaves for work. a double date once a month with his brooding best friend and his charming and cheerful wife that she instantly gets along with. and they fight about ugly orange jackets and hair caught in the shower drain which follows intense hours of making love.

he's the housewife, she's the repairman. he washes the dishes, does the laundry, the cooking, the cleaning. she fixes the leaking pipes on their kitchen sink, repairs the broken chairs, and checks the cable. together, they go grocery shopping, grouts the kitchen and bathroom tiles, paints their room blue, and water the ugly plant he brought home with him one sunday afternoon. sometimes they forget to clean for weeks and leave the apartment like a dump site and that's okay.

holiday now involves a cheap boxed wine, pizza, ramen, monopoly board games, a very cheesy christmas movie playing on the tv, and dancing awkwardly on top of the upholstered brown couch they bought.

they loved each other on autumn afternoons in the pumpkin spice lattes they shared together, on winter mornings in the bundle of their scarves and coats, on summer evenings slicked with sweat and bodies moving together in a beautiful rhythm, and on spring dawns when he leaves a trail of kisses on her shoulders that makes her think that maybe it's gonna be like this forever.

in the small of her apartment, with paint peeling off the walls, scratched papers containing her sprawled handwritings flying everywhere, mugs with cold coffee on top her piano, and an ugly plant standing beside the ugly couch is where they found their home and their refuge. it is messy and small but in this place, she is the best singer songwriter in the world that has ever lived and he is a world renowned chef praised by every critics. in this place, their dreams are within reach and everything seems possible.

—

and this is how it falls apart:

reality starts to take a hold of their life. they are nearing their thirties and he realizes that part time jobs isn't going to cut it anymore. he accepts a job offer from an old friend for a work that pays more.

she gets an offer from a recording company in new york and for the first time, she is going to reject a chance to make it big in the world because she doesn't want to leave him. she doesn't tell him any of this.

like how they started, it unfolds slowly.

- dinners started to get cold.

- a series of apologies and excuses that only gets old.

- she loses her favorite audience in her nighttime gigs.

- mornings of waking up to the left side of the bed already made. cold nights of preparing to sleep with the left side of the bed still made.

- he loses his passion for cooking and starts to give up.

- she stops singing for him. the piano in the living room started to get dusty.

- arguments reserved for tomorrow because they're too exhausted to fight.

- waking up one day and not recognizing the person they share the bed with anymore. even the faces they see when they look into mirror is unfamiliar to them.

- a major fight breaking out one cold friday night.

- cold, harsh words coming out of their mouths. words they cannot take back.

- she finds herself writing songs about heartbreak one day.

- the food he cooks started to taste bitter in his mouth.

- their home started to get cramped with unresolved anger and untold secrets.

- "we're hurting each other, aren't we."

- "i'm sorry."

- "i'm sorry, too."

they were sandcastles, meant to stand beautifully after being built so carefully, but is always meant to be crushed in the end.

—

how unfortunate it is, he thinks, for things to end. to invest so much into something you believe would last knowing it fell apart with your own doing. to have a taste of something perfect only for it to slip away from your grasp in a blink of an eye.

how unfortunate it is, she thinks, for packed boxes, awkward voice messages, a wilting ugly plant, ripped off scratched papers, deleted numbers, habits to unlearn, regret for all the hurtful things said to one another, and her sitting on the floor wearing one of his shirts and trying not to miss him be the culmination of a year spent in love.

—

this is how they say goodbye:

they sit at a park bench near her apartment and watch the people going about in their lives for the day, not knowing that today marks the end of something beautiful.

he finds out about the offer she rejected and in his left hand is a plane ticket to new york. in his right hand is her hands and her heart. in his eyes are a million apologies and a promise of a love that is never going to fade away.

she thanks him for not giving up on her. in her smile is an assurance that it's okay. in the forehead kiss that lasted too long says that he is her great love. in the way she rests her head against his shoulder tells him that she will never forget.

and in their goodbyes are oaths of achieving their dreams no matter what the odds are.

—

it ends at a wedding.

she; a successful singer, millions of copies of her two albums already sold around the world, and is currently on a world tour, and

he; an owner of five-star restaurant, praised by various critics, and is always packed every night.

she sings at a wedding, this time not as a job she was paid to do, but as a gift to an old friend. and it is not just a typical day. today is a special december afternoon where they both see each other again for the first time in five years.

there is no accident in the way he turns his head and seeks her gaze. there she stands on the platform, clad in a velvet red gown, and still looking perfect as the first time he saw her six years ago. he feels the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders upon seeing the way she moves that he recognizes with familiarity and upon hearing a voice that used to make his heart sing.

as she starts to sing, she deliberately locks eyes with the man who captured her heart six years ago. there he sits on his assigned seat in front of the reception area, looking as handsome and ruffled as she remembered, and so different from the lost boy who once stood in one side of the dancefloor with his white shirt drenched with red wine.

this time, there were no pause. this time, the background and everyone around them started to fade. this time, time didn't stop for them but it moved backwards to some time six years ago and forward to a very different future. a past where nothing went wrong, where mistakes are easily fixed, and there were no words to take back. a future where they were the ones getting married in this very day.

hidden in the song she sings are a million alternate realities, a montage of what-ifs, echoes of what-could-have-beens, and the promise of a future long gone.

lost in the depths of each other's eyes, they can picture it. a story where there were no hurdles and obstacles to overcome. it starts on a mid-july day in the middle of a wedding, where everything is perfect and their dreams are not so far away. in this story, he didn't take his friend's job offer and she tells him about new york. in this story, their love only grew stronger and nothing kept them apart. she catches a big break and he goes with her and both of them achieved their dream together in another country. she holds sold out concerts at big stadiums, and there he is on the front row, on a seat reserved especially for him. featured in the restaurant he opened were his father's recipes and a weird pizza flavor named after her. the new apartment they moved to was bigger but just as messy and filled with love than ever. the ugly plant he bought was still alive and her cheap piano didn't gather dust. in this story, there were no habits to unlearn, no happy memories to regret, no cold nights to write sad songs about.

a story started with a wedding when they were still struggling dreamers and a story that ended with their wedding when they finally achieve their dreams and the only thing left for them to chase after was their happily ever after.

the song ends and they both come back to reality. and in this reality, it was another person who sits on the front row of her concerts instead of him. a different name and a different favorite food were written on the menu of his restaurant. and this is not their wedding.

this is his wedding.

this is nothing like a romance movie. this time it wasn't just the two of them in the scene. this time includes him and his bride sitting together with their hands clasped and looking all kinds of perfect, an engagement ring on her left hand that clasps the mic, and smiles from each other that says thank you for the wonderful journey they shared six years ago.

it was a once upon time gone wrong, but they did get their happy ending anyway.

it wasn't a love story. it was a story of passion and struggles and people you meet along the way that will always have a special place in your heart.

a story to tell future dreamers about.

—

and here's to the fools who dream

crazy as they may seem

here's to the hearts that break

here's to the mess we make

—

end

—

(italicized words were from the lyrics of The Fools Who Dream from the movie La La Land sung by Emma Stone, written by Justin Hurwitz / Benj Pasek / Justin Noble Paul)

#also: i suck so bad at writing sex scenes forgive me for i am still a fresh flower #it took me a week to write this bc it's so emotionally taxing and it's hard to find words to reflect the magnitude of melancholy im trying #naruino #fic #yamanaka ino #uzumaki naruto #pia writes

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ganglylimbs · 6 years

Text

Golden Waste

Summary: Gavin has been trying to right a wrong for centuries now. He's been alone for that long. But one invitation to a mix match crew may change the view he has of the world.

Notes: The ever popular Midas! Gavin with various demi-god crew members. There's no pairing per say but I did write it with the mindset of pre-freewood, so take that what you will.

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When you kill your daughter, the first thing you do is change your name. Then you get on a boat and leave. You never look back. With your greed, you’ve taken the fall, the drop, and all you can do is hope. Hope that the ground is soft when you reach it.

Gavin steps into the vault. It is big and cold and dusty. A hole has been blown in one of the sides. He takes his time, searching for safety deposit box 21AA. He hums as he walks. If he felt like it, he would have sung loud and clear, let his voice bounce around the vault and out the hallway. There was no one there, after all, but him. Instead, he listened to the sound of his footsteps clicking against the concrete floors.

21AA looks like the rest of the safety deposit boxes, the only difference being that while the rest have been thrown open, this one is still tightly closed. Gavin stares at it for a long moment. He hates having to do these kinds of things. Hates moving. But it is time.

Los Santos is big, a place where Gavin had felt, once upon a time, that he could get lost in. Thousands of people crammed into one area, a grimy city succumbing to the high crime rates. There isn’t a day that went by that sirens didn’t constantly wail, a police force spread thin as they zip up and down the roads. The buildings are tall and imposing, gray as the sky on most days, the people are suspicious of every little move from fellow citizens. Almost everyone deals in blood of some sort and the whole city is held together by the rich and powerful crime lords that ran everything in the shadows.

Unfortunately for Gavin, it is more profitable for children to learn their lessons on the streets, which makes for poor school attendance. The Los Santos school district can’t afford to keep him working. No one wants to learn from history anymore. But Gavin figures that this is a sign. He’s lived here too long (a hundred years now, far longer than he had dared anywhere else).

This bank had been leveled the other day, a bank robbery gone right, taken down in a blast of explosion. The lobby is destroyed, and everything inside is taken. But 21AA has been left closed. It is mostly undamaged, except for scratches along the lock, where someone had tried to pry it open. At least he knows that his security measure still works. No one but him can get this door open.

Gavin takes off one of his gloves, letting the golden thing fall to the floor. With only the slightest hesitance, Gavin places his hand on the lock. At his touch, the lock begins to turn gold. It is slow going, smooth lines of gold creeping their way across the steel surface. Gavin steps back and watches. The gold spreads like flowing water, uncontainable as it engulfs the safety deposit box, and then keeps going. From experience, Gavin knows it won’t stop till the vault is covered. If he really wills it, it can spread to the entire building.

But Gavin isn’t here for that. He opens the box. Inside are papers, golden too though they had been gold long before this. Papers Gavin had gathered throughout his lifetime. Passports and identities, a few coins. Some photographs. A map and a letter. Everything that reminds Gavin about the hell he continues to live.

“Man, you’re a sad looking guy.”

Gavin whips around. In the doorway of the vault stands a man done up in a suit. He has shaggy black hair and sleepy brown eyes stare back at him. He is leaning against the vault, relaxed. Behind him stands another man, this one much taller and broader than the first. This one is dressed in leather, his muscular arms are crossed in front of his chest, his blond hair is pulled back into a ponytail. His eyes are two different colors. One green. One blue. While the man in the suit is smiling, the muscular man is scowling, lips pull back to show off his teeth.

Gavin takes a step back, eyes glancing to the side where the gold is still creeping across. Memories play in his head. People screaming, beatings, burning at the stake. No one reacts well when they realize what he can do.

The suited man chuckles. “Relax. I already know.” He tilts his head. “We’ve been watching you.”

Gavin finds his voice. “Well. That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

That gets him another chuckle. The man pushes off the wall, strolling towards Gavin, hands in his pocket. “My name is Geoff. Geoff Ramsey.”

Gavin freezes. Ramsey. Fuck. No meeting with Ramsey ends well for anyone. He swallows. “Gavin Free.”

Geoff nods. “See. We can be civil.” Gavin isn’t so sure that the gang leader has a civil bone in his body, but he isn’t about to say that. “So. Gavin.” His name is said mockingly. “I have a proposition for you.”

Gavin has a pretty good idea where this is going. “I’ll turn whatever you want to gold, enough to tide you over, but I have a plane to catch tomorrow. And I would really like to be on it.” He pauses for a moment. “Please?” Never hurts to use manners.

Geoff throws his head back, his howling laughter echoing around them. Gavin can hear the soft huffing laugh of the other man too. Gavin shivers at the sound. When Geoff looks at him again, his eyes are green, shinny in the dimming light. “I don’t want your gold. I’m offering you a job, Free.” He smiles wide, sharp teeth bared. “Or should I call you Midas?”

No one ever thinks about the fall when they wish to fly. You suppose there might be some freedom to it, but all you are aware of is the fear curling in your gut as the wind goes flying past. You can’t stop. Your arms are flailing, your legs are kicking. But there are is no stopping. Not till you go splat.

Gavin slinks through the penthouse he had been dragged too. A few weeks here and he still doesn’t feel that comfortable. The rest of the gang is nice, he supposes. You know, for a criminal syndicate that thrives on violence and chaos. Jack, the second in command, is friendly. Michael isn’t but is polite enough for a guy that likes to blow up stuff. Jeremy is curious, and Ray stays out of his way. Ryan, the muscular man that held guard at the bank with Geoff, is as silent as ever. It’s Geoff who pushes the interactions.

He doesn’t’ seem to get that a closed door means do not enter. He probably doesn’t as locks don’t seem to deter him. He just pops into Gavin’s room and starts talking.

“Hey, which do you do like more; chocolate or vanilla?”

“I hate both. Get out.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Gold. Obviously.”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic.” Geoff pouts at him. “Come on. You’ve been moping around long enough. Get a little lively here.”

Gavin brushes him off and goes to get something to drink. Geoff follows.

“You know, you haven’t taken your gloves off the entire time. Afraid of something?”

“Unless you want your whole place to turn gold, they stay on.”

“That would be pretty cool.”

Gavin doesn’t have an answer for that.

The rest of the gang is in the living room. Their chatter stops when Gavin appears. Gavin stands straight, sets his shoulders back and keeps his chin up. He can feel their eyes on him but does not turn. Geoff is close on his heels.

“How about dinner? I haven’t seen you eat anything since you got here.”

“I don’t eat.” It’s been a long time since he last had a meal-he thinks of the rations he snuck, deep in the trenches as the war went on around him. There’s nothing to food anymore that appeals to him. It is all very hollow.

“You’re kidding.” Geoff frowns at him. “Well, no wonder you’re such a grouch.” He bypasses Gavin, going deeper into the kitchen. Gavin watches, sipping on his cup of water, as Geoff starts to bring out pans. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ryan get up and leave. The others are still staring at him.

“What are you doing?” Gavin asks the room.

“I’m going to cook you a feast”

“Why?” Didn’t Gavin just tell him that he didn’t eat?

“I wouldn’t turn down Geoff’s cooking,” Jeremy advises from the couch. “It’s legendary.”

Gavin frowns at him before turning around. He starts to leave. “It’d be a waste of effort. I’m not eating it.”

Geoff snaps his fingers and Gavin falls to the floor. His legs feel weak, like newborn deer, and Gavin struggles to pick himself up. Geoff passes him, running his hand through Gavin’s hair. “See? You need to eat. Rebuild your strength.” Gavin can hear the smirk in Geoff’s voice.

Gavin scowls after him and refuses the help the others try to give him. He forgets, sometimes that no one in the room is exactly human. He crawls his way to the couch, at the farthest point from the others, in time for Ryan to arrive back with a large piece of meat. He sets it on the counter. Geoff and he set to work on it.

Gavin takes the time to observe the others. Jack has taken the form of a woman today, though they kept the beard of the man they were yesterday. They talk to Ray, who stays slouched and unblinking the entire time. Next to them, Michael and Jeremy talk, their language unknown. It’s deep and forbidding, like thunder made into words. Their voices hold a melody to them though that Gavin finds soothing.

When dinner is ready, and the table set, Gavin finds he can walk again. He does not embarrass himself by trying to run away. Instead, he takes a seat, back straight and chin high. The others are talking, about their day, about the news and Gavin reminds himself that this is the most feared gang in the city, pretending to be domestic. For the most part, he pushes his food around the plate.

It’s pork, cooked so tender, and potatoes. Gavin thinks again of his last meal-the rations, the trenches, how his toes had started to turn black, and the next second when a bomb goes off and for one blissful second he hadn’t existed anymore. He stares at the plate. His mouth remembers the taste of mud and death and blood and the dry hard rations. Hesitating for only a second longer, he takes a bite.

It’s overwhelming at first. His taste buds are screaming and his stomach cramps. But he forces it down and looks up. Meets Geoff’s eye.

Neither of them mentions that by the end, Gavin’s plate is completely clean.

“Get your coat. You are coming with us.”

Gavin knows an order when he hears one. He doesn’t disobey because he’s pretty sure Michael can break him in half.

They drive to meet Ray and Jeremy, miles outside the city, in an empty field. There are logs piled up, the two dowsing them in gasoline. At Gavin’s questioning look, Michael tells him “We’re going to have a bonfire. Maybe tell ghost stories.”

The fire burns brightly into the night. Michael and Jeremy do most of the talking. It’s clear to Gavin that Ray runs on his own time. Once, Michael had asked him a question and it took the other man five minutes to respond. Michael hadn’t seem put out by it.

Michael and Jeremy tell stories of a wild youth. Their voices take on a particular note, their eyes glaze over. They touch at old scars.

Gavin can’t help but tell a few of his own.

It’s Ray that asks. “I never see you use your gift.”

Gavin startles. Then he scowls. “That’s because it’s not a gift. Only a curse.”

Michael takes over questioning as Ray takes that in. He shrugs. “I guess it depends on how you look at it, yeah?”

Gavin turns his scowl towards him. “How can I look at it any other way?”

“You turn things to gold. What’s not to like about that?”

“I can no longer hold anything in my hand. Anything soft turns hard. Anything hot turns cold. I dare not hold another person. I’m forever stuck looking at gold .” Gavin spits out that last part.

Michael and Jeremy look at each other. “And?” Jeremy asks.

“And what?”

“Well, what are you doing about it?”

Gavin blinks at them. “Doing about it?”

“Yeah. You hate it so much, right? What are doing to get rid of it?”

Gavin takes a moment to think about that. “The Gods placed this curse on me for my greed. If I can prove I have changed, then maybe they will take it away.”

“And how’s that been going for you?”

Gavin draws his knees up to his chest. “Obviously, I haven’t tried hard enough.”

“Or maybe you’re trying too hard.” Jeremy shrugs.

Gavin has no answer to that. He stares into the fire as the two go back to talking. He looks over at Ray, who is staring at him, eyes completely black.

“Is there a difference between a curse and a gift?” He asks.

Gavin turns away from him.

Jack is standing outside his door. They’re a young child and when Gavin looks closer, he can see wrinkles around their eyes and mouth. There are gray hairs mixed in with the black.

He likes Jack. They don’t push him and can tell when he’s had enough, helping him escape the others when he wants to be alone. They smile at Gavin and wave him out of his room. “The others are out at on deal. Ray went back to his realm to deal with some things. Want to play some games?” They tilt their childlike head and give Gavin a wide smile.

Gavin follows them.

There is a game console set up in the living room, a racing game on the screen. Set around them are chips and soda. “It’ll be like a party.” Jack claps their hands.

Jack absolutely kicks Gavin’s butt at the game. And in the next. And in the next. “Wow, you suck at this.” They comment, after winning once again.

Gavin sighs, placing his controller down. “Yeah. It’s been forever since I played…well any sort of game.”

“What have you been doing all this time?” Jack wonders.

“I haven’t really had time to do anything of that sort,” Gavin said.

“Why?”

“Well, the curse-“

“Has done what?” Jack breaks in. “It turns things you touch to gold. How does that affect your ability to have fun?”

Gavin opens his mouth. Then closes it. He looks down at the controller. “I’ve been busy.” He finally answers.

“Too busy to have fun? What a life that must be.” Jack replies. They sip at some soda, watching Gavin.

Gavin just stares back, hopelessly.

There are three Ryans that Gavin knows of. One has blue eyes. Blue-eyed Ryan likes to stick close to the crew, looming over them. Watching. When Gavin mentioned it once to Michael, Michael told him it was an old habit of Ryan’s.

“He likes to protect things.”

Green-eyed Ryan is chatty. He talks about computers and likes to drink Diet Coke. He stays a safe distance away from Gavin, talking to him over countertops or with furniture between them.

Red-eye Ryan scares him. He saw red-eye put a bullet between someone’s eyes and stick a knife at the base of someone else’s spine.

Gavin can’t help but watch Ryan switch between the three. Red turns to green then bleeds to blue before turning back to red. They all must get their opinion in.

Ryan also likes to sleep outside Gavin’s door. Gavin had assured him, after the first time, that Gavin wasn’t going anywhere. Ryan had just stared at him with blue eyes. Gavin brings it up with Geoff. Geoff just pats him on the shoulder and tells him that means Ryan likes him.

Ryan makes sure that Gavin continues to eat, shoving plates in his face and not leaving till he feels that Gavin had eaten enough. When he is green-eye Ryan, he will read out loud. His voice is smooth. The books he read are long, things Gavin had never read himself. There had never been enough time.

Gavin doesn’t usually go on heists or deals. It feels wrong. To be spending all this time trying to right a wrong and here he is, stepping in line with criminals. He refuses the gun they try to give the first few times. But after almost being shot, he takes it, promising himself he will never use it unless for self-defense.

But sometimes he does go and just watch them work. Jack is great at getting into places-of course they are, they can be everyone. Jeremy carries a club like it’s the only weapon he needs and really, when he swings and the force of it plows through concrete like butter, it probably is. Michael and Ryan are there, raining down bullets or standing menacingly in the back.

Geoff is the one orchestrating it all.

Once at a deal, when they had been negotiating with a wannabe drug dealer, trying to decide if he would be allowed to sell on their turf, Gavin noted the way that Michael and Ryan would look at Geoff before talking. Little side glances. Geoff had been in the back, lent against a wall, half covered in shadows. He would tilt his head from time to time, some secret code that meant something to the others. His eyes never left the increasingly agitated dealer. Gavin watched him watch the dealer, watched as Geoff pulled his gun before the dealer could reach for his and shot at the man’s hand. He watched the way Geoff just grinned and shrugged, leaving the dealer to Ryan and Michael to do with as they please.

The third time Gavin goes with them to a heist, he stands in the corner and watches as everything goes wrong. The teller presses the button before they can stop her. They can’t get the money fast enough. Cops are busting down the door, civilians are running around, and they can’t get anyone under control.

He watches an officer gun down Jack. He moves forward, ungloves one of his hands and touches the officer’s shoulder. The man had had his back turned towards him, but he spins around upon Gavin’s touch. He brings his gun up and Gavin can see the fear in his eyes. But the gold works faster. It spreads from his shoulder and up his neck. The man screams, dropping his gun in favor of reaching up to scratch at his neck, fingernails scraping across the gold.

Gavin stumbles backward, watching with wide eyes as the gold overtakes the man. A young girl flashes across his vision, pleading for her father to make it stop. His hands are trembling heart pumping. His breath is coming in short.

“Father, father, stop!”

But he can’t stop it. Never could. And it twists his stomach, sends tears to his eyes.

Everything has gone silent. Gavin isn’t sure what was going on with the others, if they have stopped shooting or if everything is still descending into chaos. He doesn’t really care. Just watches the man before him be forever froze in gold.

He reaches down to grab the gun attached to his hip. He makes sure it is loaded. Then he puts it against his head.

Strong arms wrap around him, pinning his arms against his side. He twists his head to look back and meets the red eyes of Ryan. Gavin makes sure to keep his hands as far away from the other man as he can.

“Well, would you look at that.”

Geoff appears before him, a forest green robe replacing the suit he had moments before. He walks up to the now completely golden officer, lightly rubbing his fingers against the man’s shoulder.

Gavin swallows and looks around. Jeremy is beating his club against a figure that probably once was a human. It looks like a fleshy mess, guts strewn around it. There is wind whipping around Michael. Lights are flashing, in storm clouds that surrounded him, mini lightning that strikes out and catches a piece of paper on fire. Another bolt strikes a hole through another officer. He falls to the floor as Michael laughs.

“It’s so pretty.” Gavin’s attention is drawn back to Geoff, who is now laid across the officer’s back. His smirk is wide. “Good job.”

Gavin’s cheeks are wet. “I-I didn’t mean to, I swear. They killed Jack and I reacted without thinking and-“

“And look what you did.” Geoff cuts in. He brushes his hand across the officer’s cheek. “Amazing work. And you were protecting the crew? You did well.”

“He’s dead.”

Geoff shrugs. “He would have died anyway. But you made him beautiful.”

Gavin stares at the officer. His face is frozen in golden horror, mouth opened for a scream that has been cut off. His hands are curled into claws, one wrapped around his throat. “I didn’t want to.”

“Didn’t you? Seemed you were moving with intent. And what does it matter? He killed Jack. Doesn’t he deserve this?”

“You protected the crew.” Ryan’s gruff voice spoke near his ear.

Geoff walks forward. With every step, his appearance changes. Long green robes, with yellow accents flow around him. They reach the floor. A helmet sits on top of his head, with long, curved horns sticking out of it. His eyes are pure green, glowing neon with power. He ruffles Gavin’s hair as he passes by. “You did well.”

Later, Jack reappears at the penthouse. Bloody but alive and the crew celebrates with cookies.

Gavin locks himself in his room.

You expect to hit the ground. You expect there to be a splat. You expect your brains to be all over the hillside, an explosion of body parts and blood.

You do not expect there to someone to help you slow down. For arms to wrap around you and hold you close and tell you everything will be fine.

With them, you’ll either survive. Build your life back up. Maybe one day, you won’t see your daughter’s face in your dreams, pleading for it to stop.

Or maybe you’ll still go splat. But at least this time, you have friends.

Gavin is in the process of turning a mug gold when Geoff appears again. Gavin startles, fumbling with the mug before it crashes against the ground. “Get out of my room.” Gavin snarls.

Geoff just smiles and sits on Gavin’s bed. “You called it your room.” He points out.

“So?” Gavin huffs.

“You’re really starting to fit in here,” Geoff says as he lays against the headboard.

Gavin considers him. Then he looks that golden pieces, scattered across the floor. “Do you usually do this? Force other immortals to join your gang?”

“Actually, Jack found me. As did Ray. I like to think they’re the ones to force me into this life.” Geoff tilts his head. “To be fair to them, I was causing mischief before. Now it’s more organized at least.”

Gavin laughs. “So you all, what? Followed each other around like lost puppies.”

“Hey, we’re very dangerous puppies.”.

They stay silent for a moment. Then Gavin asks. “Why are you here?”

“In this room? Because I wanted to let you know dinner is ready.”

“No. Why are you here, on Earth? Instead of your own realm?”

Geoff lets out a sigh. “I don’t think they’ll take me back if I begged them. Not that I would. But still. To them, I represent death and betrayal. Who would want that around?”

Gavin looks at Geoff. Sees a lot of things in those eyes that he’s sure are reflected in his own. Then he grabs a nearby pen, watching in silence as it turns to gold and hands it to Geoff. “Apparently you have a whole crew that wants you around.”

Geoff takes it. He spins it between his fingers. “Yeah, I guess I do. With maybe one more?”

Gavin smiles. “I can’t guarantee that. But I’ll stick around for a while.”

#fake ah crew #midas! Gavin #various demi-gods #mythology au

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birdgirl90 · 6 years

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Inky Roses, Chapter 1

Well guys, I’ve started a new fic. This is a MCU Loki/Reader insert Tattoo/Flower Shop AU. I do plan on continuing work on Flying High (found here on AO3), I just had this idea and needed to get it out. (: This fic is called Inky Roses can be found on AO3 as well as here. I hope you enjoy! (:

Title: Inky Roses

Summary: You own a flower shop and you work with your best friend Thor. Everything is pretty much the same every day, until one day a tattoo shop opens up across the street from you.

Rating: Explicit (for later chapters)

Relationships: Loki/Reader, Thor/Jane

Chapter 1

You stare across the street at the building across from yours. The once vacant shop front now reads “Raven King Tattoos” in classic tattoo shop writing - you know the ones, the typical lettering style that most people assume with tattoos.

It’s a small town you live in, and this is the first time a shop like this has opened; you’re a little nervous about it. Your own floral shop (where you currently stand by the display window, playing with autumn colored wildflowers) has been in the family for generations and has always been here on the boulevard. Your parents decided to retire early, leaving you in charge of it. You think you’re okay with it, having grown up in here amidst the roses and tulips, but only time will tell you suppose.

The lights across the street flick on.

“How long do you think they’re going to last?” you ask your best friend and employee Thor. “That shop front is like the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher position. You know, a new one every year.”

Thor - tall, blonde, built like a rock - joins you at the window, a glass vase of blue roses in his hands. He makes a thoughtful face before his blue eyes meet yours.

“It is like that, isn’t it,” he muses. “Does that make us Herbology?”

You laugh and shake your head. “Good thing I’m a Hufflepuff I guess.”

He laughs with you, a loud laugh that matches his loud tone.

Thor was on the high school football team when you met. He asked you out after meeting you in science class and at first you had denied his offer - why would the star of the team be interested in you, the chubby book club girl no one ever asked out - but eventually you relented. You went out on a date once, and both of you decided that you were better suited for friendship; it felt more natural. It quickly blossomed - ha, you think, blossomed - until the two of you were hanging out all the time. He got into a good school on a football scholarship and everything was good, until he got tackled wrong at the homecoming game senior year and messed his ankle up beyond repair.

Thor lost his scholarship because he was unable to play anymore, and so he decided to not go to college. College had never been in your plans due to the family business, so you hired him on (he’s surprisingly good at arrangements and all the customers love him) and the rest is history. Now, at age 24, the two of you share an apartment together, still best friends. He still looks as good as ever, and you grew into yourself a bit between now and then, though the chubby belly will probably never go away.

“I’ve actually never seen a tattoo store before,” you admit as you arrange the wildflowers in the window. It’s early October so you’re trying to make the window look festive for Halloween. Thor promised to pick up a pumpkin in a few days so you could add it in. And with October also comes the preorders and preparing for poinsettias for winter. You’ve already got twelve people down for orders. It never ceases to amaze you how much people love the red flowers. You’ve never cared for them yourself, but they are traditional you suppose.

“They’re very clean,” Thor tells you, and you raise an eyebrow. He shrugs. “I went in one when I was with Amber and she ‘needed’ a new tattoo.”

Ah yes, Amber, Thor’s previous girlfriend. You had never cared for her much, the way she went around like she was queen of the goddamn world. She was snobbish and nothing Thor did was up to her standards. You were secretly thankful it only lasted about six months and that Thor realized he could do better. Thor bounced from girl to girl all through high school but now it’s slowed down some. You think he’s grown out of it.

“Ah,” you say. You start to move to the back of the store to grab some of the wheat stalks you have to add to the display. Thor puts his vase of roses in the fridge case. The two of you work companionably for a while, you finishing the window display and Thor arranging a few orders for the afternoon. It’s comfortable and familiar.

“What do you think, big guy?” you ask Thor as you step back to admire the window.

“It looks good from the inside, Y/N,” he tells you with a grin. “We should look from the outside.”

“Great idea.”

You zip up your hoodie and Thor does the same before opening the door and heading into the crisp autumn air. You can see your breath and you laugh. You love this time of year. The pumpkins and the hayrides and just everything about it makes you feel alive. The two of you step into the road for a moment. It’s hardly ever busy around here and the street is quiet for now. You tilt your head. The display looks good, bursting with autumn colors. The shop name is still prominent (“Pocket Full of Daisies” - you’ve always hated that name, but three generations, now four counting you, and it feels like it can’t be changed now, as much as you wish it could), but fairy lights twinkle around the edges of the window now too, giving it a warm and welcoming glow.

“I need to put the lights around the door,” you muse and Thor claps you on the back.

“I’ll go get them,” he tells you and heads inside.

While you’re waiting for him to come back out with them, you can’t help but turn and watch the shop behind you. There’s movement in the shop and as you watch, the blinds open and reveal a tall man with shoulder length black hair and a long sleeved black tee. He’s looking over his shoulder and laughing with someone before he turns to you, rich emerald eyes locking onto yours; he smirks. You quickly look back to your window display, a flush of embarrassment on your face at being caught. Moments later, Thor arrives, holding out a strand of fairy lights.

“Why are so you flustered?” he asks while he helps you decorate the front door frame.

“Um,” you start, but are quickly cut off by a large shipping truck coming down the road.

Both of you watch as it stops in front of the tattoo shop. A petite woman comes out and greets the driver of the truck. She’s about your age, you think, with long brunette hair and brown eyes; her ears have gauges in them and she’s got tattoos along her bare arms. She waves at you both with a friendly smile. You hesitatingly wave back, while Thor beams at her.

“Hello neighbors!” she yells across the street at you and you bite back a laugh at how outgoing she is. It shouldn’t really be a surprise that she walks across the street to you, a smile still on her face.

“I’m Jane,” she says without any prompting. She turns to look over her shoulder. The tall man you saw earlier is outside now, taking boxes from the truck inside the building. He catches your eye again and inclines his head at you as he walks into the shop. “That’s Loki. We’re your new neighbors!”

“I’m Y/N,” you tell her, holding out your hand which she enthusiastically takes. “I’m the owner here.”

“And I’m Thor,” Thor says, taking her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles. You roll your eyes at him; he’s already slipping into flirt mode. “I work here with Y/N.”

You can’t stop wondering at how beautiful these people are. Jane is like a tattooed fireball fairy; she’s also sweet and friendly? And Loki…even just a few glances tell you he’s the bad boy who gets all the girls (and maybe guys). You don’t usually get self conscious about how you look but damn if you aren’t starting to while standing with Jane. You’re watching as Loki unloads more boxes, flashing a quick smile at the truck driver that makes your pulse increase a bit, and you don’t realize you’ve zoned out part of the conversation.

“Y/N?” Thor asks, bringing you out of your head.

“Hmm?” you mumble, rejoin the conversation.

“I was just telling Jane how we’ve been friends since high school.”

“Ah,” you say, fidgeting with your hoodie zipper. “Thor and I go way back. We actually share a place on the east end of town; it’s just more economical to live with someone than to try to find a place on your own, you know?”

Jane nods and smiles.

“That’s what Loki and I do, as well. We just kind of crash together and eat ramen noodles.”

“Jane!” a voice calls from across the street. It’s low and velvety and has a distinct British accent. You follow it back to Loki, who’s leaning on the side of the brick building across the street. “If you’re done, I could really use some help setting up.”

Jane giggles and grins at you.

“That’s my cue. If you guys are interested, maybe we could all go get a beer sometime?”

You open your mouth to say something but Thor cuts you off.

“That would be wonderful,” he tells Jane, holding her hand again for a brief moment. “Feel free to stop by any time.”

You could swear a faint dusty rose covers Jane’s cheeks as she thanks him and heads back across the street.

The two of you walk inside.

“She’s cute,” you comment with a smirk at Thor. “Bright and fun and a little dangerous…”

Thor bumps you on the shoulder as you make your way around the back of the counter.

“I would like to get to know her better, I think,” he says and you shake your head with a grin. “But how about Loki?”

“Uh, no,” you say with another head shake, your grin gone, knowing Thor has been trying to set you up for dates for ages now. “One, I don’t know him -

“Well, go talk to him!” Thor interjects. You ignore him.

“And he’s like a bad boy. Nothing good comes out of dating guys like that - I’ve seen the television shows. Besides, he’s out of my league anyway.”

“You never know,” Thor says with a smile. “Maybe you’ll be surprised.”

You just sigh and head to the back room.

#loki/reader #loki #thor #jane foster #reader #loki x reader #fanfiction #tattoo/flowershop au #thor/jane

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writerleo86 · 3 years

Text

Terravenger Season 5 - Part One: Episode 352 (Do Not Copy)

At the dining room of the Noxpannon fortress, long white strings rose before the two young man -- Victor Martin and Jack E. And another individual walked to the center of the pair.

A smiling Victor lowered his head and greeted "Hi Siro."

The newcomer dressed in white informed the other students who stood before him "I must apologize for the troubles my teammate may have caused here tonight. This will never happen again."

The tails of his coat returned as if they were liquid. And the gloomy boy turned away.

"We will be leaving now," He told his teammates.

And Iris yelled "Just a moment!"

Then she stepped forward and asked "Who are you? What is your name?"

The mysterious boy turned his face to her and answered "I am Siro... Siro Verzweiflung."

He finally walked off as his two classmates followed.

After that, someone else hurried to the group with anger in his eyes.

"I wanna fight now!"

This was a large young male with fair skin, blue eyes, and cut brown hair. He had on a white shirt with a thin blue collar. He wore a pair of red pants and white shoes with light-blue at each center. And a long white scarf was worn around his neck that had two thin red lines at each end.

He ran toward both Tai and Cheetah as he roared "I'M GONNA HURT YOU BOTH!"

Yellow electricity covered his body as the obese boy continued to the pair. And two small balls made of blue light soon shot at the front of the boy's feet.

The obese boy stopped as the energy around him faded quickly.

"What the hell!" He yelled.

The young group along with Tai turned around and spotted two more individuals standing at the opened doors of the large room.

Episode 352: The White Rose Blooms Again

A female voice asked "Must you start this before the exams even begin?"

One of the newcomers that stood at the right side was Prisma Todd. She was a young girl with light skin, shiny brown eyes, and black eyebrows. The outer parts of her hair were blond as the inner parts were brown. And the back of her hair was tied into a high bun. She had on dark-brown eyeliner and peach lipstick. She wore a sleeveless white top underneath a pink blouse that had long sleeves. She had on a pair of tight green pants that had dark outlines of leaves printed. She also had on a pair of long brown boots with high heels. And placed on the left side of her chest was a pale-violet badge that had the shape of a star with a circle behind it.

The other was her partner Aiden Rose. He had clear blue eyes, fair skin, and short gray hair. And his body was well-built. His outfit consisted of a pale-blue formal coat and white dress pants. He had on a white shirt underneath with a pale-violet necktie around his fine collar. And he had on a pair of white dress shoes.

The sharp-eyed Aiden held a white rose in his left hand as he faced the large attacker.

And he asked in a calm voice "How is that we must deal with someone as gruesome as this during this great gathering?"

The large boy yelled "Do you wanna face me, Pluto?"

Before the large boy was able to charge, Prisma placed her hands together. She soon threw her hands onto the ground.

"Grass Release!" She called. "Egotist Binding Technique!"

Long green vines appeared around his legs. And the obese boy fell face down on the ground.

After that, Prisma stood up and faced her captive.

The other individual -- Aiden -- stood by her right side and took a small whiff from his bright rose.

He said "I will give you gratitude for not using extreme force."

"Why waste that on this guy?" Prisma replied. "He is not worth the trouble. He isn't as fearsome as he thinks anyway."

Tai hurried toward them and he cried "Whoa! That was incredible!"

Then another person walked toward the head of the obese boy.

This was a younger boy with purple eyes and fair skin. But the color of his face was lighter than his neck. He had long brown hair with the front part covering his left eye. And he had on black eyeliner. He wore a long black shirt with long sleeves, long black pants, and brown shoes with black laces.

He went down to his knees and stared at the large boy as a surprised grin was on his face.

"Really Hawk?" The boy asked. "You didn't want to wait until the exams to expose that power?"

The large boy turned around and began to remove the wrapped vines from his ankles.

The slender boy said "I wouldn't want to be you when our commander hears about this."

"Oh shut up Dusty!" The large boy yelled. "The loud boy with the spots on his hair looked at me the wrong way! It was my duty to rearrange his head!"

"Wat?" cried Cheetah. "Dat guy came after me wit' no warnin'!"

The gloomy boy stood up and told his partner Hawk "Let's get you back to our dorm before the Commander and Crane find out."

He added while his head was lowered "I shouldn't had let you out of my sight for a moment."

"No one told ya to babysit me!" yelled Hawk. "I could take care of myself!"

The gloomy boy called Dusty placed his right hand on his forehead as he said "The Commander told me to look after you. And Crane knew that you would make a spectacle of yourself. Now look where we are."

After he unwrapped the last of the vines from his ankles, Hawk stood up.

"Hey Cinna!" Prisma informed Dusty. "Keep your beast on his leash for now on!"

Hawk turned to her and he yelled "Why you!"

Dusty looked up as he scratched the back of his head using his left fingers.

And he implied "I am always the one that has to look after him while Crane does whatever. This is not fair."

Then he began to pull the left wrist of Hawk as he directed "Let's go Hawk. It's time to get out of here."

And Hawk was forced away as he yelled to both Tai and Cheetah "I'll get you two! Mark my words!"

Tai hurried to the other pair and yelled "Hey! Thanks for savin' us!"

Aiden faced Tai as he still carried his rose.

And he informed the students of Midas City "I would use the time you have here to examine everyone around you. You never know if they will be your opponents at the Exams."

And the pair finally walked off.

"Who were those guys?" asked Cheetah.

Paige shook her head and said "According to what the large one said, the two who saved us are from the Pluto Armed Forces."

"Pluto huh?" repeated Tai.

Inside a large room at another part of the fortress, both Beau Ravenstone and Mercury found themselves at another gathering.

Beau had worn a collared white shirt with a green tie, his pinstriped gray pants, and his leathered black belt with his MAF badge as a buckle. And he had on his pair of black boots. But he also wore a brown dress coat that had long sleeves.

Mercury had on a collared white shirt with a light-blue necktie. He also wore a pale-blue suit and a pair of white dress shoes. And his MAF badge was placed on the front left side of his coat.

The men continued walking forward until a voice yelled "Well, if it isn't my old friend!"

Mercury faced his left side and spotted someone walking toward him.

It was an African-American woman that had brown skin, dark-brown eyes, and puffy black hair. She wore a short teal-colored dress that was styled from the country China. She also had on dark leggings and short brown boots. And a red badge with two golden symbols was placed on the left side of her chest.

She stared at Mercury before she finally gave out a soft smile.

"Asia Monroe," Mercury claimed. "I have not seen you since I as an Armor Champion had fought against the Dark Lord on Planet Marinear Bay."

Asia gave out a quick laugh and said "I didn't think you'd remember after this whole time. Then again, you were one of the main champions that protected me and the other potentials that long ago."

And Mercury asked "Are you a commander for one of the the other nations?"

"Yep," Asia answered. "Of the Cinna Armed Forces."

Then Mercury informed his commander "I shall meet with you later. I would like to continue with the Cinna Commander."

"You know Commander Monroe?" asked Beau.

Mercury shook his head and answered "I do. Asia and I met during my time on Planet Marinear Bay that long ago."

And Mercury hurried off as Beau searched around.

"Well, well, well!" A male voice cried. "The Midas Commander finally shows himself!"

Beau was soon joined by two familiar people.

One that stood at the left side was the commander of the Arctic Armed Forces -- Steven Ban. He was an older man with short gray hair, blue eyes, and peach skin. He wore a light-blue shirt with a fine collar and a dark-blue necktie. He also had on a white suit and white dress shoes. And his silver AAF badge was placed on the front of his coat on his left side.

Both Beau and Ban shook hands as Beau asked "How are you these days, Old Friend?"

"Brilliant thus far," answered Ban.

And Beau was delighted as he saw the other commander, Eudial Koel. She was a beautiful woman with a slender body, fair skin, and long blond hair. She had silver eyes with blue pupils. She also had on black eyeliner and red lipstick. She wore a long red dress with long brown sleeves. On the left side of her chest was her silver GAF badge. She also had on dark leggings and long black boots. And she had on golden earrings.

"Hi Raven," She greeted in a calm voice.

"You look great," Beau told her.

And the three of them were happy once they spotted another person walking toward them from the doors.

This was a younger man with brown eyes, fair skin, and a well-built body. And his head was nearly bald. He wore a collared white shirt with vertical black lines. He had on a blue suit and black dress shoes. And his golden badge which was the shape of a triangle was placed on the front of his coat on the left side.

After the two men shook his head, the newcomer gave a soft hug to Commander Koel.

"You look just as handsome as ever, Patricius," Koel told him.

And the man said "Not as great as you Eudial."

"Is this the whole gang?" Ban implied. "Or is he on his way too?"

Then another male voice cried "Not quite!"

The group soon found the person walking slowly from the door as he held a long silver cane with his left hand.

Beau gave out a large smile as Ban yelled "The whole gang is finally here!"

This was an elderly man with dark skin and a thin body. He was also a tall person with brown eyes that was covered by a pair of black eyeglasses. He had slick gray hair that went down to his neck. And he had a thin mustache. He wore a collared black shirt with a purple vest and a long purple necktie. He also had on a long black coat and a pair of black dress shoes. And a Neptune-themed badge was placed on the left side of his chest.

"The Teacher has arrived at last!" cheered Patricius Kelly.

Koel hurried and gave a warm hug to the elder. Meanwhile, both Mercury and Asia Monroe had joined the group.

"Counselor Mercury!" Ban greeted. "It is great to see you as well!"

Then the caring Koel helped the elder onto a chair. After that, Beau stood before him with a soft smile on his face.

"Counselor Mercury," Beau introduced. "This is Rubeus Finley. He is the commander and principal of the Neptune Armed Forces. He is also a dear friend of mine as well as one of my mentors."

Mercury gave out a proper bow and said "It is a privilege to finally meet the person who my commander has always looked up to. You are known as the God of Teachers among the knights of Morah."

"Morah?" questioned Finley. "Then I take it you're a son of Artirius?"

"Yes sir," answered Mercury. "Artirius Fakinos was indeed my father."

Finley placed his left hand around the young counselor's right hand and told him "Your dad... He was a great and honorable man."

And Finley informed the group "Sir Fakinos and I knew each other from our time in Norway. That guy knew his stuff! He would have done well as a commander for one of our nations."

"I am honored that you would say such as a thing about my father," said Mercury.

Finley soon turned to Beau and replied "That was a little before I met Captain Prestley Sidney in Midas."

Beau informed Mercury "That was before both Commander Finley and Sidney's father went to a war and fought side-by-side. Then Finley founded the Neptune Armed Forces soon after."

A shaken Mercury turned to Finley and asked "He was the one who started the Neptune Armed Forces?"

"Neptune," Patricius responded. "This is one of the later nations on this planet. But this city was just as fierce and loyal as the others."

"But the first one..."

Another individual walked toward the group and folded their arms forward.

This was a tall man with brown eyes and fair skin. His head was completely shaved. And his left arm was burned badly. He wore a sleeveless dark top with a long white collar. He had golden armor around his waist with a long white cloth below. He also had on black pants and short brown boots. And a badge that was shaped as a green globe was placed at the bottom of his neck.

He told the elder "We of the Green Opal Forces... We were the first to be called an official nation by the Council. But our name is placed at the bottom of the page for the lowest of the soldiers to be produced. We were the laughing stock of the planet!"

Patricius informed Mercury "If you think of the nine nations as the Twelve Olympians, the Green Opal Armed Forces would probably be the Hades."

"We have been treated badly for many decades!" The newcomer continued. "And who is at the top of the seat? None other than Pluto? Pluto this, Pluto that!"

"That may sound accurate," Beau implied. "The Pluto Armed Forces have always been known as the greatest at completing missions, especially if they were stealth."

Then the newcomer informed the other commanders "Well, this year's going to be different. I, Barbarus of Green Opal, will see to it that the score of my nation -- our status -- does not stay at the bottom!"

Ban asked "Are you the new commander over there? At Green Opal?"

"Yeah!" Barbarus answered. "As well as a graduate. I have always kept up with what goes on around our planet like some of you. Opal will not lose the Exams this time around. We will be victorious!"

Suddenly, Barbarus grew irritated after he stared at each of the commanders.

"Neither of you are Pluto huh?" He replied. "No matter! I'll take you all out at the Exams! I have the right team that will take all of yours out easily!"

Then he responded after he spotted Beau "But you! You're the Commander of the Midas Armed Forces! Your nation has somehow been moved to the second in the bracket! That means you're a threat too!"

"Enough, Green Opal Commander!"

The angry commander turned around and found another person standing by the doors.

"By the gods!" cried Beau. "What is this?"

It was a male individual that had short dark hair with the sides shaved off. He also had a muscular body. He wore a turquoise tee-shirt underneath a sleeveless gray flak-jacket. On the left side of his jacket was a four-fingered hand printed while a pale-pink bird-like figure was at the bottom right side. The purple star-like badge was at the front on the left side of his jacket as well. And placed on the left sleeve of his shirt was the Ravenstone crest. He also had on gray pants and long black boots. And he had a tattoo of a long flame drawn on his left arm.

As he walked toward the group, they all noticed the individual had worn a white mask that had large green eyes, a small golden horn on the forehead, and large red lips that were closed below.

"Is that you, Commander Darkholme?" asked Patricius.

The masked man responded in a calm voice "Commander Darkholme had retired at the end of last year. I have become the new commander of the Pluto Armed Forces."

"Now that I have a close look," Finley implied. "I know for certain that this is not Commander Darkholme."

"And this man is of Commander-Rank," added Ban. "Otherwise the security would had noticed an intruder immediately."

Koel stared at the masked person for a moment. And she responded "That mask. I think I've seen it before. But from where?"

"I think I have as well," said Beau.

"Commander Beau Ravenstone," The masked man replied. "You of all should remember this mask. Well, not this particular mask. It was made exclusively for my mother long ago by someone you know, and quite well."

Beau stared at the mask that the man was wearing for another moment. Then he responded "Yes, I do remember that style. This type of mask was a hobby that was done by a child of my late mentor."

"Wait!" cried Ban. "You are right Beau! Sidney's son, was it?"

"I remember it too," said Koel. "It was Ethan Sidney. He used to make these masks and wear them for stealth missions. He was one of the few bests at making the masks perfectly."

"Yes Commander Koel," The masked man claimed. "But this mask... It was made for my mother by Officer Ethan Sidney before he was sent on a mission. And that was when he was not seen again."

And Beau thought to himself for a moment.

Beau's thoughts:

At the Forest Area which was at the top of the Midas Academy building, the team of three -- General Erich Sidney, the witch Sirene, and the resurrected Nathan Reed -- had faced the devious lord himself, Sirbo Kaballa.

"Well done," Sirbo informed them. "I would expect this great amount of attempt from you and your team, Teacher."

After that, a dark mist rose from behind Sirbo. And two figures came out from the mist.

One of them was a young man with short gray hair, blue eyes, and bright skin. He wore a pale-blue uniform with a silver belt around his waist. He had designs of different colors around many parts of his outfit. He also had on a pair of black boots. And a MAF badge was on the left side of his chest.

The young man stood by Sirbo's left side as Sidney cried "No! What did you do, Sirbo? He has nothing to do with your fight against me!"

Then a tearful Sidney stared at the young man once again and cried "That boy... He is my son."

Beau soon took a few steps from his group.

"You cannot be him," He implied. "General Sidney's son... Ethan Sidney... He died long ago while serving as a guard for the Council."

"I never said I was him Commander," The masked soldier responded. "But you should look at my sleeve. This should be familiar to you as well."

Beau looked directly at the crest that was attached on the left sleeve of his shirt.

"Is this possible?" He cried. "It is you! You were able to replace the great Charles Darkholme after all?"

"What is this, Raven?" asked Ban. "Do you know exactly who this guy is?"

And Beau responded.

"You are not Officer Ethan Sidney. You were that boy I met in Pluto City exactly twenty years ago. Yes. You were the thief that tried to steal a priceless item from me back then."

The person finally took off his mask. He was revealed as a young man with blue eyes and a strong face. And he had a thin beard.

"His face!" replied Koel. "He looks very familiar!"

Ban stared at the face of the individual and cried "This guy... He looks exactly like the Man of Many Faces! He's a dead-ringer for Sidney's boy!"

Beau looked at the face of the mysterious commander and said "So, it is you!"

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deathly-sick-flowers · 3 years

Text

Sleeping in Ciudad de Sangre

the sun was setting in a dusty town of yore, birds flew into the violet-orange glow of the twilight sky above the wooden structures. drunks and whores prowled the dirt roads looking for a crutch to keep them going. horses cantered past bodies laying in the street, drunk or dead, no one could tell.

our story begins with a stranger riding into Ciudad de Sangre, a small town of sin and debauchery. a towering spire on the roof of a church stretched its crooked arm towards the sky to be seen for miles on approach to the town. it was here the desert landscape ended at the base of a mountain range, Ciudad de Sangre being the last resupply opportunity before trekking the mountain pass.

nice spot for a drink, our stranger assessed. braving the ferocious teeth of the Loto desert alone, the stranger sat up straight in their saddle upon hearing the illuminating voices of others for the first time in weeks. “Come on, girl” they dug their spurs in their horse and sought off in a nervous trot for a taste of the devil himself. Darkness was creeping in from the east, swallowing the Loto in a slow march behind them. The stranger was in search of some warmth after a lonely ride, and their horse’s shoes caught better grip as the terrain switched from dunes to paved dirt.

“Ciudad de Sangre” the old sign seemed to moan in it’s desperate attempt to cling onto a rusted chain link from a wooden post. It practically dragged in the dirt, broken glass and the smell of piss surrounding it. Despite it’s degraded appearance the town was full of life; music came from all corners and with it, laughing and cursing, singing and dancing.

“Hey man can I bum a smoke? Get a silver?” a man with one arm called out from the deck of an unnamed building. He smiled weakly at the stranger through a gapped smile, mud and blood caked the man’s shirt.

“Fuck off” the stranger spat, and rode past. There were only small individual dwellings that surrounded this side of Ciudad de Sangre, leading into the epicenter where gas lamps lit up the streets in front of shops, vendors, and bars.

As they galloped deeper into the town center our stranger’s thirst grew, craving something bitter that bites back. Whiskey. Not long after roaming through the streets did our stranger come across a small saloon that seemed well enough for someone to collect their thoughts and plot another move. Our stranger pulled their horse up next to a water trough, swung their left leg over the saddle and dropped to the ground. solid ground. A sigh of relief as the stranger secured their horse’s reigns to a hitching post, “Alright girl, I won’t be long.” The sounds of men cheering and women laughing came from inside as our stranger ascended to the deck. The floor groaned beneath them as they pushed open the saloon style doors, everyone’s focus noticeably now on the stranger. For what seemed like minutes people reacted to our stranger’s grim appearance. A few girls giggled in the laps of some unfriendly gentlemen, the band lost rhythm to ogle for a moment before resuming. Shit, when was the last time I looked at myself. Our stranger reflected.

After everyone had taken in the god awful sight of this stranger they went right back to ignoring them again. A spot opened up at the bar after a man collapsed from his seat, “Well alright” the stranger sighed. Without moving this poor soul the stranger stepped over him and leaned in to the bar. The bartender approached, a handsomely average-sized man with some ash in his beard, eyes of a jaded fox.

“My friend, you look damn terrible if you don’t mind me saying so. You need a poison?” he bellowed.

Our stranger gave a half chuckle, half sigh, “What you got that stings”

“House whiskey outta do you good, you got silver?” Our stranger nods and slaps two pieces onto the mahogany bar. The bartender makes his way to the sink and begins to clean a glass, the mirrors behind the shelved bottles now gave our stranger a sight for sore eyes.

A sand stripped man with a dusty beard stared back at our stranger from the mirror. He looked at himself in disbelief, red bags under his eyes, his skin weathered from the desert’s harsh winds, and his black hat had turned brown from the glare of the sun. “You are one sorry looking son of a bitch” he muttered to himself. He could hardly see his pupils, almost forgotten what color his own eyes were, if he had ever really known before. By now it was hard to remember.

A glass was set in front of him and brought the stranger back to reality, a POP of the cork and a fine golden-brown river of whiskey flowed from the bottleneck to the glass. It was the most beautiful thing our stranger had seen in weeks, which was practically nothing since the days were filled with sandstorms or illusions as the sun made the dunes dance and roll like waves from the shore. “they call me Danny, friend, let me know if you need another.” Danny scooped up the silver pieces and began tending to the other thirsty patrons.

The stranger to this town lifted the glass to his mustache and took a deep whiff from his nostrils. The whiskey smelt of aged oak barrels as well as memories of stronger times with closer acquaintances. He swirled it around for a moment before bringing it to his lips, taking a swig too eagerly and coughing out some of the dust from his beard. The gentleman to his right scowled at him and covered his drink, “my apologies friend,” our stranger cleared his throat, “It’s been a long road.”

“No offense mister, but you look like you just came out of a grave deep in the Loto.”

“I’d be lying if I said that weren’t true” our stranger bantered. The gentleman scoffed and turned his shoulder to him, not wanting to engage with our stranger any further. The stranger exhaled and brought the glass to his lips once more, this time slowly tilting his head back and letting the whiskey linger a moment before burning his parched throat. “ahhh, that’s better.” the stranger felt warmer and more confident with each sip, finally relaxing after a grueling desert storm.

It was a small bar with a banda on the opposite wall, tables between them. A plain oak staircase with a recently sanded railing shined under the gas lamps on the ceiling, patrons leaned over the rail from the second floor chatting and listening to the banda light up the whole room.

“That’s a fine horse you rode in on, saw it’s coat shine from the window there.” Danny returned, “Another round?”

“keep em coming, Danny, and thank you. Not often you see a coat like that, especially in the Loto. After a terrible mishap, seems like she came to help me out there.” As he spoke, Danny filled his glass with some more hooch, offering the stranger a lemon slice, which he refused.

“You don’t mean to tell me you just found that horse out there? er, it found YOU?”

“I reckon so, I’d be dead if it weren’t for Pumpkin.”

a confused smile spread on Danny’s face. “bit of a queer name for a horse out here, harvest season isn’t for another several moon cycles. Not that we can grow fuck all in this desert. Might I ask why?”

“Maybe the sun had gotten to my brain, erm, I can’t really say. Had a nice ring to it, she seems to respond to it, and it stuck.” a touchy subject for the stranger, the name was more than just a crop, but the name of a showgirl he used to be sweet on. He bodied the rest of his drink, “listen friend, you must see a lot that goes on around these parts. You see, I’m looking for someone, got a gift for em.” The stranger reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a photograph. A man with blonde hair, a thin mustache, and a black ornate bolo tie. He had a strong unibrow, and a fine mexican woman under his arm, cigar in his other hand. He slid the picture over to Danny, who inspected it closely.

“hmmm. I do not recognize this woman, though I will say she is very easy on the eyes. But the man I do know. A bit of a reputation he has in this town. Surely you do not mean to engage with him?” the bartender seemed a bit concerned. The stranger stared his glass down, his voice grew deep.

“That woman was my wife, recently passed. That man is her brother. Blames me for her death. Left me to die in the desert. I intend to thank him.”

(Part 1 of 3)

#Ciudad de Sangre

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edenfindley-blog · 6 years

Text

Year 1: Chapter 2

Kenna woke up in the same bed; same rotting posts, same stiff mattress, same dirty sheets, same torn quilted blanket. The girl above her was sleeping soundly, the mattress sagging slightly under her weight. The rest of the girls in the room were no different, each of them younger than the one before. The sky was still dark outside the dusty window. Kenna rubbed her eyes and stepped with a bare foot onto the splintering wood floor. She quickly got dressed and began to head for the door before she noticed the paper attached to it.

Kenna walked across the room, making sure to keep her steps quiet as to avoid waking the other girls.

One foot after another, she made her way to the door. The writing on the paper became more visible with each step through the darkness. Once her face was inches away she could read the first line of writing, beautifully written as if it had been written millions of times before to be perfected.

Kenna Walthorn,

The girl's eyes lit up with fires being fueled by hope as she grabbed at the letter with greedy hands. Her pointer finger had merely grazed the surface when the paper disappeared, a loud pop sounded through the dusty room. The girls who still slept soundly stirred for a moment before lying peacefully once again.

Kenna heaved a sigh of relief before beginning to panic. Her grey eyes darted around the dark room, searching for that letter. The letter that was addressed to her. This had never happened before and it was so important to her. This was Kenna’s letter. She had to find it.

As the witch searched, she heard a sound, almost like small bells, from outside her sleeping quarters. It was against the rules to leave her room until the sun had fully risen. With shaking hands Kenna grasped the door’s handle. One wrong move and she would be scrubbing toiletries for days, maybe weeks. Even worse, she could get kicked out of the orphanage and be left without a home.

She stood and considered, asking herself if this letter was worth the trouble. The bells sounded again. Kenna stared down at her hands which were still shaking. Without her moving, the knob twisted and the door flew open, throwing Kenna back onto the floor and waking the other girls.

In the doorway stood the tall crooked figure of Lady Caterina. She wore a midnight blue victorian style dress with heels much too small for her feet. Her dark hair was tied up into a tight bun. In her long bony fingers she held the letter addressed to Kenna.

Her dark lips curled into a sneer as she proclaimed, “I found this lying at the bottom of the stairs on my way to my office this morning.”

Kenna watched the paper with baited breath.

“I read through it. Nothing important. Just a letter from a school to a ‘Kenna Walthorn’.”

“That’s my letter,” Kenna muttered.

Lady Caterina turned her pointy nose from the letter to the girl. Her smile grew until her teeth were visible, all of them tinted yellow and crooked.

“Is that so?” Her voice was eerie, seeming to grow after every word. “Well,” a spark in her hand turned to flame. “Isn’t that... interesting.”

The wretched woman dangled the letter above the fire, her fingers hanging on ever so loosely.

“Please, Caterina-”

“You will address me as Lady Caterina! Or should I just drop this and let it’s ashes stain the floorboards.”

Tears began to form behind Kenna’s eyes and her face became hot as the girls who still sat in there beds silently stared. It had been fifteen years. She had to deal with this woman, this monster, for far too long. Kenna threw herself at Lady Caterina, grasping onto the hand holding the letter. Lady Caterina being a foot taller only stumbled back a bit. Kenna, realizing how little effect she had, began to panic. She hadn’t thought out exactly what she would do.

Lady Caterina smirked, wrapping her burning fingers around Kenna’s wrist. The girl screamed and leapt back, clutching her arm and crouching down on the ground. The woman closed her hand, extinguishing the flame. She knelt down next to the now crying girl.

“Best get some water. We wouldn't want that burn to scar, now would we?”

She snapped her fingers, letting a small spark hit the letter and lighting it on fire. She set the burning paper on a stone block in the corner of the room and left, closing the door behind her.

One of the girls, an eighteen year old Kitchen Witch named Elizabeth, hopped down from her bed and quickly put out the fire. She then ran over to Kenna and summoned water with Elementalist Magick. Elizabeth removed Kenna’s hand and placed a ring of water around her wrist. She snapped at one of the younger girls to hand her the letter.

“I tried to save it. A few words may be missing but hopefully not too many,” Elizabeth explained solemnly with an accent that resembled one of an Easterner.

Kenna looked up at her. She was beautiful; dark skinned with bright orange hair styled in curls, big brown eyes with a small upturned nose and thin lips, dimples and wrinkles next to her eyes from smiling. She wore a long navy blue nightgown and a large blue necklace. Her eyes were focused on the water as her small dainty hands held it in place.

“Is something wrong?” Elizabeth asked, noticing her stare.

“N-no. It’s just… Why are you being nice to me? Why now?” Kenna stammered, taking the letter.

Elizabeth grabbed a bucket that was usually used for vomit when a child was sick. She filled it with water, dunked the girl’s hand in it, and said, “Lady Caterina is usually mean to you but she never hurts you. Not like this at least. Besides, if Lady Caterina found out I was helping you, I would never hear the end of it. But these girls in here swore not to say a word… this time.”

“Oh… Well thank you for helping, I guess.”

Elizabeth smiled. She stood and began to get ready along with the others. Kenna turned toward the window. The sun was beginning to rise which meant they had to be downstairs for breakfast soon. The fifteen year old looked down at the letter, a corner of it burnt off completely. She sighed, folded the parchment, and shoved it into a pocket in her robes.

Kenna held the door open for Elizabeth who now wore a red and cream dress with maroon flats and the same necklace. Her curly hair was tied back into a ponytail. She left the room without even looking at Kenna.

---

Kenna sat silently in the library, her favorite books lazily sprawled upon the table’s surface. Kenna held the folded paper in her left hand, a cold wet washcloth over the right. She was nervous to read this letter without reason which made no sense to her and that made her angry at the letter. It had caused her so much trouble and she wouldn’t even be able to read every word of it. Kenna put the letter down on the table with the washcloth and walked around the small library.

Not very many children visited the library during free time. They would mostly just play around within the building or out in the yard. It was always quiet enough to hear the wind flowing through the doorway. There seemed to be really no use of the library other than to harbor dust.

The library itself was very small. There were only two tables, each big enough to hold about two and a half piles of books. The chairs could barely even hold one person let alone a pile of books. There were only three bookshelves which were each four feet tall. There was a matted rug that was either covered in mold or actually that color. It didn't help that holes could be found all over it. The room didn’t have a distinct smell, or anything distinct for that matter. It was completely and utterly bland.

Kenna looked back at the table. The letter seemed to pulse with an urgency. She forced her gaze away from it and to the door where a shadow had appeared. A young boy popped his head in, looking around in confusion. He had small brown eyes (one slightly more closed than the other), light skin, and dirty blonde hair.

“This isn’t the washroom,” said the boy.

“No, it’s not,” Kenna affirmed bluntly.

“My mistake.”

And with that, he was gone. That was the kind of attention the library was graced with, lost people.

Kenna sat back in her chair, staring at the books that she had selected. They were just stories, witch lore, history, etc. None were very interesting yet she still chose them. She just needed a distraction from that damned letter. Kenna rubbed her eyes and groaned out of frustration.

Finally, she slammed her slender hand down on top of the letter and dragged it across the table (which wasn't very far) so that it sat right in front of her. Kenna just stared. That's all she had the courage to do; stare at the folded piece of paper that was either absolutely useless or could change her world with a few simple words. She held the letter in front of her face and after what seemed to be forever, she unfolded the letter and began to read it.

Kenna Walthorn,

We are delighted to inform you that you are required to join the Iverness School of Witches. This school teaches witches ages 15-23 in combat skills for protection during a full moon as well as Magick.

You will be in the first year class and will receive your books upon arrival, which is required to be at least one week prior to the first day (September 9th). You will also be required to fill out a form stating which Magick you will major in. This will affect your schedule as well as the classes you will attend.

There is no uniform but you will be staying in a dorm with at least one other person. You will be expected to be respectful to your dorm-mates as well as your living space and they will be expected the same.

A passel of carriages will arrive a week prior to the first day at your address if transportation of the sort is necessary. It will pick up a few more witches befor school so it will be a bit crowded. There will be elder witches going wi you should arrive at the school with no problem.

Once again, we are delighted

Sincerely,

Professor Sutton

Kenna heaved a sigh, realizing she was holding her breath as she read. Her heart rate quickened as she read through it again. She could leave. She could go to school and never come back. Kenna quickly shoved the books back into their shelves and the letter into her robes then ran out into the hallway. The boy from earlier was on his way outside.

“Hey!”

The boy jumped, turning to face her.

“What day is it?”

“It’s Sep-September f-first,” He stuttered.

“Okay. Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome?”

Kenna ran up the stairs and began packing up everything she had (which wasn’t much). Once packed, she hid everything under her bed in fear of Lady Caterina figuring out what was to happen. She knew others went to the school, but Lady Caterina was kinder to others.

After everything was in place, Kenna created a spectacular plan. She was to run after the school year had ended; to the mountains in the north opposite from their little beachside colony. Caterina would never find her there. She would be free. The witch’s mind was buzzing at the opportunity presented to her.

As she sat in her room silently, her stormy gaze drifted to the rain outside her window. She always found this type of weather quite calming. Kenna didn’t have a reason, it just was. It was just as much as the fact that she breathed air to stay alive. It was just as the fact that she herself was Kenna. Her mind stepped back at that last thought. There was always the possibility that she was not Kenna. She could be someone else but never know due to her parents not being around. She could have been the daughter of a leader, or a human who fell in love with a witch, or something special… but it was more likely that she was just a witch. Nothing special, just a witch that disappears when she’s scared. A cowardly witch. She dismissed the thought and left the room.

---

Smoke hampered Kenna's senses immediately after her eyes opened. Heat coming from the first floor was scalding and the door was open. She looked quickly around her room and noticed only one person was missing. Everyone else was sitting on their beds, shaking.

“What is going on?!” Kenna yelled at the girls.

One of the climbed down from their bed to where Kenna was sitting. “I think a fire started. Elizabeth told us to stay here until it cleared.”

“Where is she?”

“She went to put out the fire.”

As if on cue, Elizabeth appeared in the doorway, soot covering her face and dress as she pressed a cloth to her mouth and nose. She screamed through the cloth, “We need to evacuate! The fire is getting too big and if we don't leave now we'll all be incinerated!”

She ran to another room to get the younger witchlings and together Kenna and her roommates scurried down the stairs. The fire was bright as it devoured the hall, the heat causing it be blinding. The door was open and there were about fifteen witches standing in the yard, staring in terror at the orphanage was enveloped in pure flame.

It wasn't long until the yard was filled with witches. Though it was still late, no one bothered to conjure light. The orphanage was ablaze, every face in that yard was visible. Every face silent, every face crying.

In the distance carriages could be heard filled with witches ready to put out the fire, their wheels rolling along the gravel at a quick pace. A few yards behind them was another group of carriages, moving not nearly as quickly as the ones ahead. Elizabeth must have noticed them as well because she abandoned the orphanage and made her way quickly to the one leading the group. She spoke to someone in the backseat then hopped into the second car.

A few moments passed and a short, thin, bald man wearing auburn robes stepped clumsily out of the first carriage’s back seat. He walked up to the crowd of witchlings, ignoring the witches attempting to put out the fire, and took a folded paper out of his robes.

“Ex… Excuse me!”

Everyone in the yard turned to face him and he seemed to be getting increasingly nervous with every turn of a head.

“My…” he cleared his throat, “my name is Simon Weaver. I am a personal assistant of the headmaster at the Iverness School of Magick and Self Defense.” He paused and examined the scene in front of him. “I see I have appeared at a rather… inappropriate time. But nonetheless, here in my hand is a list of students that will be attending Iverness School. When I call your name, please make your way to our selection of carriages.”

One by one, the population of the yard decreased. Kenna was only able to focus on how deep Mr. Weaver’s voice was comparing to his his appearance. It was rather odd and a bit uncomfortable to witness. Kenna did expect her name to come up but was surprised nonetheless. She tried to find a spot with Elizabeth so they could talk on the way over. Once everyone was settled, they driver began to take us away from the orphanage, still blazing through the night.

---

It had been a few hours since they left the orphanage. Elizabeth had been staring quietly out of the window while Kenna drifted in and out of sleep.

Finally Kenna spoke, “Uh… hi, Elizabeth.”

“Hello.” Her glance never broke from the outside world.

“Are you excited?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“For school, I mean.”

“You’re a first year. I forgot. After a few years of going it couldn’t get less exciting.”

“Oh.”

They sat quietly together for a few more moments. Then a thought crossed Kenna’s mind.

“Where was Lady Caterina? I didn’t see her in the yard.”

For the first time all night, Elizabeth looked away from the window and to her hands. Her bright orange hair fell in front of her face and she began to fidget with it.

“She… She perished in the fire.”

“I see…”

After that, not a single word was uttered until they arrived at the school.

#Witches of Iverness #writing #writeblr #book #booklr #new chapter #chapter 2 #witches #witch school

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