Do you Promise?
Based off this heartbreaking post by @sabertoothwalrus
A/N: thank you to @obsessed-avacado for beta reading
Pairing: ladynoir?
Word Count: ~1k
TW: uhh angst, lots of it (lmk if youâd like me to tag something)
She sat on the rooftop with her legs dangling over the edge, the dark city landscape of Paris spread out in front of her. Despite the late hour, windows were lit up across the city, casting flickering shadows that showed the late night schedules of many citizens. Above her, the night sky was alight with thousands of stars, a minuscule glimpse into an infinite universe.
A quiet voice drew her attention away from the stars. âMâlady?â Next to her, Chat was unusually still, his feet hanging over the ledge and thighs pressed against hers ever so slightly.
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Sophitz Week: Fluff
A/N: This is for the sixth prompt for Sophitz ship week!
Pairing: Sophie x Fitz
Word Count: ~600
TW: uhh eating mentions
ďżź
âIs that my hoodie?â Fitz demanded as Sophie came into the room, wearing a teal hoodie a few sizes too big for her. She plopped down next to him on the couch with a smirk.
âMaybe,â she smiled, a mischievous light in her eyes. Cuddling up to Fitzâs side, she reached over and stole a handful of popcorn from the bowl on his lap.
Fitz pulled the bowl closer to his chest. âThief!â he cried, his lips forming a mock-pout. âFirst my sweater, now my popcorn! Whatâs next, my blanket?â he asked, gesturing to the faded pink blanket on his lap.
:readmore:
âNo promises,â Sophie said with a laugh. She reached for the popcorn bowl again, causing Fitz to move it to the other side of his lap, just out of Sophieâs reach.
âHey!â she pouted, crossing her arms. She was silent for a moment or two before she glanced at Fitz out of the corner of her eye.
He sighed as he turned on the TV. âFine, here you go. But only because you look so cute in my hoodie.â He passed the bowl over to Sophie, who was blushing furiously at his words. Three months of dating, and she still got butterflies every time he complimented her.
It was Friday night, which meant date night. This week, Sophie had chosen to watch a movie, so the two of them were currently set up in Fitzâs basement in front of the large-screen TV.
As the movie started up, Fitz spoke, his head tilted slightly down to look at Sophie. âSpeaking of my hoodie, how on earth did you find that one? Itâs my favourite, and I could've sworn I hid it!â he demanded between bites of popcorn.
âYeah, you hid it all right. In Bianaâs room. You know sheâs on my side, right?â Sophie batted her eyelashes at him as Fitz grumbled something under his breath. âHey, donât be mad! She just likes me more. Besides, all your hoodies are cozier than my own.â
âIâm not mad,â he responded. âBetrayed, maybe. And a little cold.â Sophie let out a small laugh. âBut not mad. I can never stay mad at you,â he said, watching Sophie fiddle with the ends of the hoodieâs sleeves. He put a hand on one of hers. âHey. You know I mean that, right?â He asked in a soft voice, his other hand gently tilting Sophieâs chin up so he could look her in the eye. âIâm serious. I know Iâve gotten pretty heated before, but I promised you, Soph, and I meant it.â
Sophie sat up, and the blonde strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail fell into her eyes. She brushed them away, the ends of the hoodie sleeves shifting from their position above her wrists and slipping down her forearms instead. âI know,â she repeated quietly, âI know.â With that, she leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Fitzâs lips. âNow quit being so sappy and watch the movie!â
Fitz laughed, leaning back in for another kiss. Sophie happily obliged, kissing him back softly. âSorry,â he murmured, smiling against her lips.
A few seconds later, Sophie pulled back and tapped him lightly on the chest. âMovie,â she reminded him, settling back into her previous position against his side.
âAlright, alright,â he said, putting an arm around her. It was dark out now, the only light coming from the TV. It illuminated Sophieâs face, with her cheeks tinged pink and her brown eyes focusing intently on the screen. âBut I want my hoodie back.â
tag list: @sophitz-week @steppingonshatteredglass @dragonwinnie-kotlc @enbies-and-felonies (lmk if you wanna be added or removed!)
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Sophitz Week:Â Angst
A/N: This is for this second prompt for Sophitz ship week! I forgot how fun it is to write angst >:)
Pairing: Sophie x Fitz
Word Count: ~1.7k
TW: blood, death
Sophie has had many near-death experiences.
Everyone knows this; sheâs constantly throwing herself in the path of danger to help other people, no matter the cost. Sheâs at the center of it all, which means the outcome of most things depends on her. And sheâs all too willing to sacrifice herself.
Fitz has had one or two himself. The one that haunts him the most was the incident with the arthropleura, and it brings back memories of vile tea and dark spiderwebs, and the sensation of being caught between life and death.
Something all these events had in common was that no matter what, everyone was okay. Mind breaks, broken bones, shadowflux; there were so many moments where someone was teetering on the edge of death. Honestly, Sophie flirted with death more than she did Fitz. But at the end of the day, she was always safeâ alive.
Looking down at his tunic soaked in Sophieâs blood, Fitz wasnât sure that this time was going to be like rest. When he had stumbled into the Healing Centre, Sophie in his arms, Bullhorn hadn't even screamed. He had simply laid down next to her, his tiny body almost as motionless as the blonde was.
Fitz remembers Sophieâs hair spread out beneath her like a halo, her eyes closed as though she were asleep, and blood, so much blood. And thatâs all he remembers before he collapses and the world fades to black.
---
The next week was a whirlwind of vials and bandages, flashing lights and sleepless nights. Fitz had recovered within a few days. Thanks to Elwinâs care, his injuries hadnât been too serious.
But Sophie remained unconscious, and Fitz wasnât sure if she was ever going to wake up.
The thought caused his chest to constrict, his emotions triggering the shadow flux and making it impossible to breathe. Once, Elwin had rushed over, thinking Fitz was injured, but there was nothing the physician could do except offer him a sedative. Everything Fitz was dealing with was happening internally, now that Sophie was on Deathâs doorstep.
Sophie was strong, he knew that. And she had fought for her life many times before. But it was different this time, and Fitz wasnât sure how to explain it, but some part of him knew this wasnât going to have a happy ending.
Sighing, he stood up, fighting the waves of dizziness as he stood next to Sophieâs cot. She was deathly pale, the dark circles under her eyes more prominent against the ashiness of her skin. She lay almost completely immobile, her body still, her chest rising and falling ever so slightly. Her features were schooled into something neutral, and Fitz couldn't tell if it was an improvement from the shaking and twitching. At least before he had known that some part of her was aware of her body and reacting to the pain.
Fitz dared think she looked peaceful, now that the blood had been cleaned off and various parts of her body were neatly bandaged. Tentatively, he placed a shaking hand to Sophieâs temple, fearing her to be so fragile that she would break under his touch. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mind to hers.
Just like the last time he had entered her mind, it was dark and empty on the surface. He could feel her consciousness lingering, but it was fading day by day. âItâs me,â Fitz thought, tears welling up in his eyes. âSophie, itâs me.âÂ
Recently, it had been harder to see inside her head. He repeated it once more, putting a little more force behind his mental voice. With that, he felt her mental walls break down, flooding his mind with images. It was chaos. Fragments of battles, places, and people appeared before being lost in the sea of Sophieâs thoughts. Just like yesterday, the day before, and the day before that, it seemed as though Sophieâs mind was sifting through her life in random order. He saw Silveny and the twins, Lady Gisela in the blizzard, the Neverseen symbol on the arm of a cloak. More than once, he saw himself. In the past few days, he had seen his eyes staring back at him, through Sophie, more than he had in his lifetime of reflections in a mirror. Her mind was disorganized, and despite Sophieâs photographic memory, all of it was blurry. Everything sounded muffled, and it was hard to make out the words of conversations.
A few days ago, when Fitz had first checked her mind, Sophie had appeared to be replaying recent events. As the hours passed, more events were brought up, blending with fragments of images and memories. Faster than Fitz would like to have admitted, Sophieâs mind descended into confusion. After that, things had started to become quieter and out of focus. Now, Fitz felt helpless as he felt Sophie fade away from him, like grains of sand slipping through his fingers. Though he had tried, there was nothing he could do except watch as Sophie disappeared in front of him physically and mentally.
A voice startled his consciousness back to the real world, and Fitz turned around to see Elwin with fresh bandages in his hands. His hair was messier than usual, and instead of the usual fun ties he wore, this one was green. It was the same rich hue of the grass, of emeralds. The same rich hue elves wore in mourning.
âSheâs still alive,â Fitz rasped, voice crackling from disuse. âSheâs still in there.â
Elwin sighed. âI know, Fitz, I know. But barely.â He helped Fitz back to the chair before taking his place next to Sophie. Carefully, he unwrapped the old bandages. Fitz caught sight of burnt flesh and red welts before he had to look away. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Elwin disposing of the bloodied bandages. Despite his best efforts, Fitz felt tears forming in the corner of his eyes and blinked them back.
âSheâs gonna be okay,â he whispered. âShe has to be.â He didn't know who he was convincing more, Elwin or himself.
---
âNo, Sophie, no no no.â Fitz knew he was crying, but he didnât bother to try and hide it. âPlease, Sophie. Youâre stronger than this.â His voice was barely a whisper, but it was all too loud in the quiet of Sophieâs fading heartbeat.
Two more weeks had passed, and Sophie hadnât gotten better. Fitz had finally become well enough to return home, but he spent most of his time at the Healing Centre by Sophieâs side.
Inside Sophieâs head, one memory was on replay. It was dark and out of focus, and the sound was so distorted Fitz couldnât make out the audio. But he knew the memory Sophie had latched on to. It was that day in the San Diego Natural History Museum, when Fitz had discovered Sophie for the first time. Through Sophieâs eyes he could see himself pointing at the newspaper and gesturing towards her. He saw his face when Sophie had used telekinesis on the lamp post, when he had grabbed her hand and teleported her to the Lost Cities, and when he promised to return the next day.
In Fitzâs mind, he remembered seeing Sophie for the first time. She was surrounded by classmates, though she lingered near the back of the group. Her head was down, and he could see the cords of her earbuds through the blonde hair covering half of her face. When she looked up and met his eyes, Fitz was taken aback by her eyes. They were a warm brown, and even from a distance he could see the flecks of gold in them. They were captivating and secretive, reflecting something Fitz couldnât quite name. He realized at that moment that if this was the girl he was looking for, he was screwed. So screwed. Because she was beautiful.
And that girl, that beautiful girl, was dying right in front of him.
With every passing second, the memory in Sophieâs mind dimmed, matching the quieting of her breaths. Her chest was rising and falling so softly Fitz could barely tell she was breathing at all. Fitz sat there, watching every one of her inhales and exhales, grasping for thin threads of hope that danced just out of his reach.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
A beat, in which Sophie missed a breath and Fitzâs heart caught in his throat. Tears were falling freely now, and he intertwined his fingers with Sophieâs cold ones.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
âŚ
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
âNo,â Fitz whispered. âNo, no no!â His voice rose to a shout. âElwin! Elwin!â He was yelling now, the desperation in his throat so thick he almost choked on it. âElwin!â
Elwin came rushing into the room, his glasses askew. âWhat? Whatâs wrong?â
âSophie,â was all Fitz managed to say.
Elwin went pale. He placed a finger on Sophieâs wrist, feeling for her pulse. He shook his head back and forth, muttering under his breath. He snapped his fingers, creating orbs of light and examining Sophieâs motionless body, his eyes glassy. Finally, he looked up, meeting Fitzâ gaze. âSheâs gone,â Elwin whispered, his voice cracking on the last word.
Fitz couldnât breathe. He felt as though someone had a hand around his ribs, crushing them. He could hear his heartbeat in his chest, its pounding filling his ears and drowning out the sounds of Elwinâs crying. Tears blurred his vision, and feeling his legs give out under him, he collapsed on the chair next to Sophieâs cot.
For a second, he was angry, angry at himself and the Neverseen and the world. She didnât deserve what she had been through, and she didnât deserve this ending. He felt the anger flare, threatening to consume him, but it quickly died down again, overtaken by the aching, stinging, agonizing pain and sorrow he was drowning in.
In that moment, all he wanted to hear was Sophieâs voice. He wanted to see her golden-brown eyes gazing back at him, wanted to feel the heat beneath her blushing cheeks, wanted to see her smile. But he couldn't, and he wouldn't, ever again. That girl he had fallen in love with, with her flushed cheeks and incredible mind, was gone.
Sophie Foster was gone.
tag list: @sophitz-week @steppingonshatteredglass @dragonwinnie-kotlc @enbies-and-felonies (lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3)
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Sophitz Week: Academic Rivals
A/N: This is for this first prompt for Sophitz ship week! This is not my best work, my apologies, (I swear Iâm actually a decent writer) but itâs a little something to help me out of my writerâs block. I might come back and expand on it if I get the chance!
Pairing: Sophie x Fitz
Word Count: ~800
TW: I donât think there are any? lemme know if you want me to tag anything :)
âS-c-h-a-p-p-e... schappe,â Sophie spelled out. She stood on the stage, nervously playing with the hem of her skirt. Above her, a banner read âFoxfireâs 19th Annual Spelling Beeâ in maroon letters. Across from her, in a competition chair of his own, stood a dark-haired boy with the prettiest eyes Sophie had ever seen. His lips were pursed in an obvious attempt at refraining from scowling as the announcerâs voice blared from the speakers.
âThat is correct!â the MC, Bronte, boomed. âAnd with that, Sophie Foster officially wins Foxfireâs 19th Annual Spelling Bee.â
Sophie beamed as the crowd broke out into applause. She was scanning the audience for her parents when she heard a heavily-accented voice from behind her.
âCongratulations.â It was the boy from the finals round, his face flushed with adrenaline and a touch of annoyance. âThat was impressive,â he told her, flashing her a smile.
Sophie felt her face heat up, trying to ignore the fact that he was even more attractive up close. âThanks,â she mumbled, not quite meeting his teal eyes.
âSophie, right? Iâm Fitz, Fitz Vacker,â he said, extending one hand out. She took it, feeling her cheeks redden even more as she made contact with him. She had seen him around her high school. He was in a grade or two above her, and from what she could tell, he was popular. And she was pretty sure he modelled, too.
Not to mention.. âWait- Fitz Vacker, as in four-year spelling bee champion?â
âThatâd be me. I canât lie, Iâm a little vexed at being beaten, especially by a student younger than me, but congratulations nonetheless. Iâm sure youâll do a great job representing the school at nationals.â His tone was laidback, confident.
Sophie started. âNationals?â
âWell, yeah,â he smiled. âYou got first in the school, which means youâre going to nationals.â
âOh,â was all Sophie had to say. She hadnât really thought about what would happen if she got first place. Honestly, she didnât think she was going to make it past the semi-finals round. Sophie had always been a natural at spelling; languages had always come easy to her. Once the school had found out, they had pressured her into partaking in the schoolâs spelling bee, and with some encouragement from her parents, Sophie had agreed to participate this year.
âSophie!â a voice called out, startling her. She turned just in time to be enveloped in a hug by Grady. âGreat job, Kiddo! I knew you could do it.â
She laughed. âThanks, Dad.â
Next to her, Fitz coughed. âFitz Vacker,â he informed Grady with a polite smile. âThe competition who just got his ass handed to him by your daughter.â
Grady laughed. âIt would appear so.â Before he could say anything else, Bronte appeared at his side.
Bronte, the MC of the spelling bee, was not unfamiliar to Sophie. He was also a part of the school board, and despite his small stature, he was intimidating.
âCongratulations, Miss Foster,â he said to Sophie, who blushed nervously in return. âIn case you werenât aware, youâve qualified for the regional spelling bee, which means youâre competing with other nearby schools. It may seem early to be mentioning, but I assure you, you should already be practicing.â Bronte didnât speak unkindly, but there was an attitude to his voice that put Sophie on edge. Upon noticing Fitzâs presence, he continued. âActually, Mr. Vacker has done exceedingly well, and has made it to nationals himself several times. Iâm sure he can help you.â
âOh, uh, I-â Sophie stammered.
âIâd love to,â Fitz replied with a charming smile. âI think Sophie could actually teach me a few things,â he said, throwing a glance Sophieâs way. âThat is, if sheâs okay with it.â
Sophie felt small under the stares of Grady, Bronte, and Fitz. âUm yeah, I guess so?â she replied, resisting the temptation to tug out an itchy eyelash.
âItâs settled then,â Bronte declared with a nod. âIâm sure the two of you can figure out a schedule that works for the both of you.â And with that, he turned on his heel and left.
Sophie knew her discomfort was obvious in the bright colour of her cheeks. Fitz Vacker, popular model and spelling bee champion, was going to help her train? âSo, uhâŚâ she started, looking towards Fitz. âYou donât have to help me, Iâll be fine on my own.â
Fitz smiled, something Sophie didnât realize she liked until he did it again. âIâm sure thatâs true, but I really donât mind. Here, give me your number and we can talk later to figure out a schedule.â
âOh, uh, sure,â she stammered. She hastily entered her name and number into his phone. âOkay, great! See you around?â
âSounds great.â He smiled at her once more before disappearing into the crowd.
tag list: @dragonwinnie-kotlc @steppingonshatteredglass @sophitz-week @enbies-and-felonies
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gotta love the next morning, when youâre reading what you wrote last night half-asleep
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Enemies
(Written as a Christmas gift as @/jadenightthewriterâs Secret Santa)
Pairing: Kam, (Marellinh)
Word Count: 2689
TW: fire (also a lack of a creative title)
Keefe ducked, barely dodging a sharp object that flew towards him from somewhere to his right. He whirled around to see a boy in a thick black cloak taking cover behind a tree. Keefe pulled a throwing star of his own from out of his tunic pocket and raised it hesitantly.
The Neverseen had decided to launch their newest attack on the gnomes, meaning the battle right now was taking place in a clearing surrounded by dense forest in the gnomes territory. In the midst of the fighting, Keefe had seen a flash of a Neverseen armband taking off towards the cover of the trees and he had chased after it without a second thought.
Keefe had ran after it for a few minutes, going deeper into the forest, following the flashes of black and silver. Now, he turned his attention to the boy he had been following, the one who had just launched a throwing star at Keefeâs head, the one whoâs black cloak was visible from 15 or so metres away.
The forest was dense, a thick grove of green trees and brown trunks. Their branches were still and no leaves rustled. Keefe couldnât even hear the sounds of birds chirping. The whole forest was unsettlingly quiet, as if it was holding its breath.
The boy shifted and launched a dark beam of something directly at Keefeâs chest. It looked like a shadow or a splash of ink. Whatever it was, Keefe sensed it was something fatal and jumped behind a trunk of a tree. Not as smoothly as heâd like to admit, he levitated himself to the top, settling on one of the highest branches. From here he had a better look at the boy. Keefe had never seen him before; he must have been a new recruit. He looked about Keefeâs age, with dark hair and silver-tipped bangs that reminded him of Linhâs. The hem of his cloak dragged in the dirt as he scanned the forest, failing to notice that Keefe was perched in a tree above him.
âWhere did you go?â the dark-haired boy muttered angrily.
Keefe was certain that the boy would attack as soon as he saw him. From his position in the tree, Keefe had the perfect opportunity to take the boy by surprise, but found himself hesitating. Instead, he leaned forward to get a better look, but he must have leaned over too far because the next thing he knew, he was falling through the air, feeling branches whip at his face before he landed on the forest ground with a thump, right at the Neverseen boyâs feet.
Keefe groaned, his face stinging and his back throbbing, and as his vision cleared he was met with a pair of silver-blue eyes. The boy raised his hands, summoning another black shadow-thing.
âWait, donât!â Keefe cried out, jumping to his feet. As he stood up, his vision darkened for a moment, spots dancing in front of his eyes. But instead of attacking him, Keefeâs enemy only looked at him curiously. Â
âYouâre Keefe Sencen, arenât you?â the boy asked in a low voice.
Keefe nodded, unsure as to why this boy in a Neverseen cloak, who had been trying to kill him moments ago, had paused. âThatâs me. The one and only. What about you? I havenât seen you before. And⌠youâre young. Is Mother Dearest recruiting kids to join her creepy cult now?â
The other boy was silent, his arms now crossed against his chest. Leaning on the trunk of a tree for support, Keefe realized just how deep in the forest they had ventured; he couldnât even hear the sounds of the battle. He reached up and brushed a few leaves out of his hair as he turned his attention back to the boy in front of him, who looked torn. âUh, Bangs Boy? Are you gonna kill me, or...?
Bangs Boy glared. âDonât call me that.â
âWell, whatâs your name?â Keefe asked again, but was only met with silence and a sharp stare. âBangs Boy it is,â he decided.
âI should kill you,â he told Keefe, âbut I was told that you were wanted alive.â However, instead of grabbing Keefe or knocking him out, Bangs Boy took a step back, crushing the grass below his feet.
Just then, Keefe heard footsteps running toward them. Before he could tell who it was, a flash of bright light blinded him. When the light faded, the Neverseen boy was trapped in a dome of light next to Maruca, who was a little out of breath but looked proud of herself nonetheless.
âWhatâs⌠going on? âWhoâs... that?â she panted, pointing at Bangs Boy.
âThatâs Bangs Boy!â Keefe declared, receiving a glare from the prisoner.
Marucaâs turquoise eyes sparkled as she surveyed the scene. Although she wasnât officially part of the Black Swan, she had accompanied them to a few battles, on accident for the most part. But no one could deny that her ability as a Psionipath had come in handy more than once, though she had yet to go up against Ruy Ignis.
âThatâs not my name,â Bangs Boy growled from inside his prison of light. His silver-blue eyes met Keefeâs, full of annoyance, but surprisingly enough, not murder.
âWell then, what is it?â Maruca demanded, placing her hands on her hips.
Bangs Boy sighed. âItâs Tam,â he told her. âTam Songâ.
~*~
Voices overlapped one another as Keefe surveyed the busy room. He was at a Peace Summit with Linh, Marella, Dex, and Tiergan on official Black Swan business. There was a rumour that the Neverseen planned causing another scene. The Peace Summit brought up some bad memories, bad enough that Sophie and Mr. Forkle both refused to attend and left Keefe feeling like he was suffocating in his suit.
âWow, this place sure is crowded,â Marella spoke up. Her blonde hair had been pulled into a bun and her red dress complemented her shoulders. Her fingers were intertwined with a girl whose shimmery blue dress and silver-tipped hair showed off just how pretty she was. Linh held on to Marellaâs hand as though it was the only thing keeping her steady, looking as nervous as everyone else felt.
âAll these elves in sparkly clothing are giving me a headache,â Marella complained.
âWow, you sound just like Ro,â Keefe told her, bumping her shoulder lightly. âSpeaking of which, where are the ogres? And all the other species?â
âThe rest of the Intelligent Species will arrive in the morning,â Tiergan told them. He picked up a glass of lushberry juice from a table next to him and took a sip, motioning for the others to do the same.
Keefe, however, was looking at something across the hall. âIâll be right back,â he told the others.
He started weaving through the crowds of people, eyes focused on someone who seemed very interested in the glass of lushberry juice in their hand. They looked up and met Keefeâs eyes, a variety of emotions passing over their face before they turned away and left the room.
Keefe followed them into the empty hallway, the noise from the ballroom fading as he turned the corner.
âWe canât be seen together,â Tam Song hissed.
âNice to see you too, Bangs Boy,â Keefe responded. Oh, how he had missed this pair of silver-blue eyes, not that he would ever admit it.
âSeriously, Keefe.â
Keefe smirked. âWhat, scared to be caught fraternizing with the enemy?â
âNo, thatâs not- Iâm- weâre not-â Tam spluttered. He was wearing a black suit, the colour of the tie matching his eyes perfectly. His silver-tipped bangs were longer now, falling in his eyes, and Tam brushed them away exasperatedly. âWe canât be seen together,â he repeated. âYou know that.â
âWell them, I guess itâs a good thing thereâs nobody else in this empty hallway,â Keefe responded lightly.
âKeefe.â
He sighed. âI know. Youâre⌠youâre the enemy.â
A shadow crossed Tamâs face. âI always have been. I always will be,â he whispered.
âSpeaking of that,â Keefe cleared his throat. âAre you guys⌠are the Neverseen actually planning on blowing this place up again?â
Tam couldnât meet his eyes.
âBangs Boy?â
âDonât call me that,â Tam snapped. âAnd you know I canât tell you that.â He paused. âYou should leave.â
âTam-â
âI should leave.â Keefe had heard these words many times over that past year, ever since he had met Tam that first time in the forest. But no matter how many times he heard them, they hurt just the same. âTam,â he tried again.
âNo.â Tamâs voice was sharp. âWeâre enemies, Keefe. Itâs black and white. Iâm with the Neverseen, youâre with the Black Swan. Whatever this is,â he gestured to the two of them, âit canât happen. We canât be friends.â
âWeâre enemies,â Keefe echoed softly.
âExactly.â Tam told him, though Keefe swore he heard a tremor in the dark-haired boyâs voice. âGoodbye, Keefe.â
âUntil next time, Bangs Boy,â Keefe responded softly, but Tam was already gone.
~*~
âDo you think it's a good idea?â Marella asked. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, weaving the dark strands of Linhâs hair into a long braid. Linh looked the most at-peace she had been in days, ever since she had found out that her long-lost twin brother had joined the Neverseen. When Keefe had finally informed the Black Swan of the Neverseenâs new recruit, Linh had promptly fainted. She hadn't spoken for days afterwards, and when she did it was never in a voice louder than a whisper. The only thing that seemed to be keeping her from breaking down permanently was her girlfriend, who was currently braiding her hair.
âI donât know,â Keefe replied, spinning around in the chair at Marellaâs desk. âThe Neverseen are unpredictable. But I think we can pretty much guarantee that theyâre not going to hold up their end of the bargain.
They were currently debating the reliability of the Black Swanâs new plan. The Neverseen had managed to capture the baby alicorn twins, Luna and Wynn, and were holding them hostage. They had sent a message to the Council and the Black Swan announcing that the alicorns would only be released in exchange for all of the councillorâs caches.
âI, for one, think itâs a stupid idea. Thereâs gotta be a better way! The Neverseen arenât that gullible. And I would say that neither are we, but since weâre actually considering this, Iâd say we are!â Marella scowled.
âI know. But just because the Neverseen keep outsmarting us doesn't mean that they will this time. Plus, weâre stronger now,â Keefe told her. âWeâve been training for months. If it comes to a head-to-head battle, which it probably will, we could win.â
âCould!â Marella repeated. âCould. I donât like our chances. Especially because they plan on sending me. What if I mess up? What if the Council finds out Iâm a Pyrokinetic?â Her voice trembled slightly on the last word.
âIâll be there,â Linh spoke, her voice barely a whisper. She reached a hand up and placed it on one of Marellaâs, pausing the other girlâs intense braiding.
Marella softened at her girlfriendâs touch. âI know. But that almost makes it worse? What if I hurt you? I want to be there. I want to burn that stupid smug look off Fintanâs face. I want to help. But now that I finally can⌠what if I hurt one of us?â
Linh turned her head to the side as best she could, her silver eyes meeting Marellaâs ice blue ones. âYou wonât. Like Keefe said, youâve trained. Weâve all trained. You the most. I know you can do it, even if itâs scary. Because with all this? Itâs always scary. But I believe in you. I believe in all of us. Weâre gonna stop the Neverseen. Maybe we can even⌠get him back. Thereâs no other outcome, okay?â
Linh, as broken as she was, was still able to give a pep talk. And it really seemed to have helped Marella. The two of them balanced each other out, both ability- and personality-wise. Linh was calm and optimistic, gentle yet a force to be reckoned with. She was the only one who could soothe Marellaâs stubbornness and impulsivity, and Marella was always capable of helping Linh come out of her shell and find her voice.
Keefe watched the two of them, Linhâs silver-blue eyes and dark hair reminding him of the all-too-familiar boy he was always trying to get out of his head. Thinking of Tam brought him back to the situation at hand and he cleared his throat, hating to disrupt the moment but knowing it was necessary. âSo,â he said, âare we going through with this? I know it feels like the same thing weâve done time and time again, but I think weâll come out victorious this time. After all, a bunch of wrongs have to make a right, donât they?â
âI hope so,â Marella sighed, tying the final elastic around the end of Linhâs braid. âI guess weâll find out!â
~*~
No.
No.
âNo!â Keefe didn't realize he was screaming it. He stumbled forward blindly, tripping on something and landing hard on his hands and knees.
The trees were on fire. Smoke filled the air, settling in Keefeâs lungs with every breath and making it hard to breathe, coating the leaves and making it hard to see. He couldnât make out anything in the thick smoke, unable to see his friends or Wynn. This plan, too, had gone awry. In the end, neither side had fulfilled their promise. The caches were fake and only Wynn had been returned, his wings broken.
Marella and Fintan had gone toe-to-toe, both incredibly powerful but neither of them fully in control. They had set fire to the trees one by one until it seemed as though the whole world was burning.
The last Keefe had seen of any of his friends was Linh desperately attempting to douse the flames, and Maruca trapped under one of Ruyâs shields. He couldâve sworn he saw Lady Giselaâs face amid the chaos, the right side of her face scratched and bleeding.
âKeefe!â someone called. Coughing, Keefe stumbled towards the voice. The smoke in the air lessened as Keefe walked into a clearing, the trees around him still green. He turned around, eyes watering, and came face-to-face with a pair of silver-blue eyes.
âTam,â he breathed. âYouâre okay?â
Tam stood before him, the Neverseen cloak on his shoulders untouched but revealing the clothing underneath to be burned. Ash coated his face and hair, dulling the appearance of the silver tipped bangs that were long enough to fall past his eyes and making his silver-blue eyes look even more bold.
âI am,â he spoke roughly but not unkindly.
âWas that a note of relief I heard in your voice just now?â Keefe asked, attempting a smirk.
Tam glared at him.
âProbably not the most appropriate time, huh? Sorry. But for the record, Iâm glad youâre not dead either.â Keefe told him.
âIâm supposed to kill you,â Tam said, unable to meet Keefeâs eyes. âFor the past year, thatâs what Lady Giselaâs been telling me before each battle. Iâm supposed to kill you, Keefe. Because weâre enemies.â
âI know, Bangs Boy. Thatâs what you tell me every time we cross paths.â Keefe ran a hand through his hair, his palm coming away even more black than it was before.
âI canât,â Tam whispered. âI canât do it.â He looked up, tear lines trailing down his face and through the layer of ash on his cheeks.
Surprised, Keefe noticed his own eyes were wet. He heard the crackle of flames and felt the warmth as the fire surrounded the clearing. âThis is the end, isnât it? No matter the outcome, itâs the end of this, of us, of all of it.â
Tam nodded. âItâs the end,â he echoed. âIâm sorry.â
âMe too.â
In the clearing, the two boys faced each other. Enemies. They were doomed from the very beginning. Born on opposite sides of a war, their fate was already determined. Through a layer of smoke, ice blue eyes met silver ones, their gazes never wavering. And around them, the world burned.
tag list: @dragonwinnie-kotlc <3
@beautifuldaysahead hey Beau I wasnât sure if you wanted to be tagged for all my fics or just my fitzphie ones?
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Colours
Red. Red is vivid. Itâs anger, itâs hurt, itâs passion. Itâs the colour you see when you scream into your pillow. Itâs the colour you see when you dig your nails into your palms. Itâs like fire; bright and burning, and in the moment it fills you with warmth, but with itâs absence it leaves nothing but a cold feeling in its wake. It always starts off bright, so hot you could explode, and slowly fades over time. But it never disappears, constantly lingering around your edges, threatening at any moment to unravel and fill you up with itâs intensity. That is red.
Yellow. Yellow is bright. Itâs happy, it's brilliant, itâs warm. Itâs not the intense heat of red, but rather a calm warmth. Itâs the colour you see when sunlight touches your skin. Itâs the colour you see when you watch the sunrise. Itâs the colour you see when your friend smiles at you, and when the two of you link arms, the colour yellow threatens to consume you, but thatâs not a bad thing. Yellow floats along, waiting for you to reach up and grab it. Itâs easy for it to get lost amongst the reds and blues, but yellow is always there, waiting for the times you decide to wrap it around you like a blanket. That is yellow.
Green. Green is life. Itâs strong, itâs humble, itâs comforting. Itâs the smell of fresh dirt. Itâs the colour you see in the morning, when the sun is just peaking over the dawn and thereâs just a touch of night to the sky. Itâs the colour you see when a layer of fog and mist touches the world, uniting the earth and the sky. Itâs the colour of your breath when you inhale and exhale. Itâs the calm knowledge that we will all surrender to the darkest parts of green and fade into the earth, never breathing, but never gone. That is green.
Blue. Blue is powerful. Itâs sad, itâs consuming, itâs painful. Itâs the colour you see when the tears roll down your cheeks. And tears? Theyâre blue and salty, just like the unknown waters of the ocean. Itâs the colour you see when you lock eyes with a friend and they turn away. Itâs the colour that haunts every âgoodbye.â Itâs the colour that threatens to consume you, pulling you deep below the surface and watching you drown. It leaves you torn, confused, hurt. It leaves you aching and raw and bruised. Itâs not harsh, not edges and lines. Itâs curves, waves, soft to the touch, but intense. Itâs bittersweet, because you have to know this kind of emptiness to feel the full effects of happiness. Itâs the colour of balance, of peace, of calm, yet it is also the colour of waves crashing on the beach, the hurt you always carry with you underneath it all. That is blue.
Purple. Purple is confidence. Itâs exhilarating, itâs daring, itâs bold. Itâs the colour you see in the bright lights of a party. Itâs the colour you see with a rush of adrenaline when you do something reckless. Itâs the colour that lingers around you when your favourite playlist blares through your earbuds. Itâs the colour that touches every smug smile. Itâs the colour you see every time you lift your chin a little higher, stand a little straighter, talk a little louder. Itâs the colour in every victory you win, every obstacle you face, every accomplishment you achieve. Itâs pride, almost, but more reckless, more desiring. That is purple.
Pink. Pink is love. Itâs sweet, itâs pleasant, itâs uplifting. Itâs the colour you see when someone remembers an obscure fact about you. Itâs the colour that you see when your pet chases a ball or blocks your computer screen. Itâs the colour you see when you embrace a sibling, and itâs the colour shared with knowing looks between two friends. Itâs the colour you see when you brush hands with the someone next to you. Itâs the shy glances, the warm hugs, the sparkle in someoneâs eyes. Itâs the colour you see in the sunset, when the sky is alive with pastel hues. Itâs the colour of flower petals, of icing. Itâs the colour that heats your cheeks and blooms in your heart. That is pink.
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also (with her approval!) our favourite resident Fitzphie stan @eating-mooncakes
I Want It to Be You
Okay okay I know thereâs often a lot of arguing when it comes to Fitzphie. But this is what was kept the words flowing, and I feel like sometimes we miss out on the potential for fanfic writing when it comes to this pairing, because in my opinion, thereâs definitely some. Anyways, please donât judge! <3
Pairing: Fitzphie/Sofitz
Word Count:Â 659
TW: other than my probable misuse of lie/lay, none, I think! Itâs really just a bunch of fluff
Sophie took a deep breath in, taking in the moment. Above her, the sky stretched out, an endless expanse of space and darkness dotted with twinkling stars. A warm breeze flitted across her face, ruffling her hair and the blanket below her. She shifted her gaze from the night sky to a pair of teal eyes that always took her breath away.
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I Want It to Be You
Okay okay I know there's often a lot of arguing when it comes to Fitzphie. But this is what was kept the words flowing, and I feel like sometimes we miss out on the potential for fanfic writing when it comes to this pairing, because in my opinion, thereâs definitely some. Anyways, please don't judge! <3
Pairing: Fitzphie/Sofitz
Word Count:Â 659
TW: other than my probable misuse of lie/lay, none, I think! Itâs really just a bunch of fluff
Sophie took a deep breath in, taking in the moment. Above her, the sky stretched out, an endless expanse of space and darkness dotted with twinkling stars. A warm breeze flitted across her face, ruffling her hair and the blanket below her. She shifted her gaze from the night sky to a pair of teal eyes that always took her breath away.
Fitzâs fingers were intertwined with hers, both of their cheeks tinted pink. Sophieâs other hand rested on her stomach, feeling it filled with fluttering butterflies. For once she didnât mind the feeling; it made her feel alive and in the moment. The only sounds she could hear were crickets chirping and Fitzâs soft breathing next to her.
She had been the one to mention stargazing, but FItz was the one who had surprised her tonight, ambushing her with an adorable smile and a huge pile of blankets and pillows.
They lied under the Panakes tree, petals falling softly around them. One landed in her hair and Fitz reached over to brush it out, his hand lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Her face burned even hotter, something she didnât think was possible.
âYouâre beautiful,â he murmured. Now her cheeks were practically on fire and she removed her hand from her stomach to reach up and place a cold hand on them, attempting to lessen the heat radiating off her face. She was thankful for the darkness and the cool breeze.
Fitz gave a soft laugh. The two of them lied on their sides for a moment before Fitz settled onto his back. Sophie followed suit, angling her head so it was resting on his shoulder. Their legs were pressed together, and Sophieâs mind zoned in on the slight pressure.
Sophie shivered as a cold wind blew through her hair, goosebumps breaking out on her bare arms.
âAre you cold?â Fitz asked.
Sophie gave a small nod. âMaybe a little,â she admitted.
âHere,â Fitz told her, untangling his hand from hers and sitting up. He unclasped his cloak, motioning for her to sit up.
She did, protesting once she realized what he was doing. âThatâs not neces-â she was cut off as he draped the thick fabric over her shoulders, still warm from his body heat. âOh,â she said softly. The effect was immediate as the warmth enveloped her.
He smiled, and it only amplified the warmth, but this time she felt it in her chest. âBetter?â
âYeah,â she responded. âThanksâ.
The two of them returned to their earlier positions, lying on their backs, and this time it was Sophie who reached for his hand first. He obliged, twining their fingers with a small squeeze.
âIâŚâ he started.
âYeah?â Sophie prompted when he didnât continue.
âI meant what I said earlier,â he told her softly. âI⌠I want it to be you. I do, I really do.â
âYou do?â
âYeah, of course. I want it to be you, Sophie. No matter what happens. I know that right now, everything is crazy and messy and confusing. But I want you to know that no matter what happens, Iâll always be here at the end of the day. And⌠I want it to be you. I want it to be you when I dance at my Winnowing Gala. I want it to be you in my life everyday. I want it to be you who I explore my life with. I want it to be you at my side through all the ups and downs. I want it to be you, Sophie Foster.â
Sophie was pretty sure she was crying, but she didnât care. âI want it to be you, too, Fitz.â
Sophie looked up into the night sky. She could hear crickets chirping and felt a cool breeze as she lied there wrapped in his thick cloak. And with Fitzâs hand in hers, she knew that no matter what life threw at her next, she would be okay.
tag list: @dragonwinnie-kotlc ilysm <3
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Stay With Me
Pairing: Sokeefe (sort of)
Word Count: 363
TW: blood, angst, death
âNo!â Sophie screamed, her voice breaking as she lunged for him, catching him just before he hit the ground. âKeefe!â
His inhale was more of a gasp as he collapsed in Sophieâs arms. Keefeâs hands reached for the large throwing star in his side, covering his tunic in red. She sunk to the floor, his head resting on her lap. The sounds of the battle around them faded away, all of her attention focused on the beautiful blond boy in her arms that was slipping away from her.
âOh my god, Keefe. No, no no no no.â Sophie fumbled for the stash of Panakes blossoms hidden in her cloak. She grabbed a handful and tried to place them in Keefeâs mouth.
âItâs too late for that, Foster,â Keefe told her, his voice barely even a whisper. Blood was everywhere, soaking his and Sophieâs clothes. âI should have known it wouldâve been my Mother Dearest. I could never live up to the legacy she had planned for me,â he smiled a sad, pained smile.
âNo, Keefe! Itâs not too late, it canât be,â she responded, frantically undoing her cloak and pressing it to the wound. She couldnât take the throwing star out because that would just make him lose more blood, but she could do her best to stop the bleeding. âStay with me!â she pleaded as his eyelids fluttered. âI wonât lose you,â she sobbed. âI canât.â
âIâm sorry, Foster.â He glanced up at her brown eyes, pouring every last ounce of his energy into his voice as he murmured a soft âI love you, Sophie.â With that, his body went slack, his eyes glazing over before shutting for the last time.
âKeefe? Keefe! No!â she sobbed into his chest, which was no longer rising and falling.
Everyone in a 20-foot radius dropped to the ground, overcome with an overwhelming grief as Sophieâs emotions poured out of her. Another Neverseen battle, another loss. In the midst of all the chaos, Lady Gisela had thrown a large throwing star at Keefe, hitting him solidly on his right side.
âStay with me,â Sophie whispered into Keefe's chest, her voice muffled. âStay with me.â
But he was already gone.
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A Handful of Flour
Pairing: Biana x Dex
Word Count: 560
TW: uhh food and eating mentions
Biana smiled as she reached for her imparter, Dexâs name flashing on its small screen.
âHey Dex, whatâs up?â she asked him, feeling her cheeks warm. She reached for a strand of hair absent-mindedly, twirling it around her finger.
âSo I know itâs kinda late, but Sophie was telling me about this human thing, cookies? She said theyâre pretty easy to make and taste delicious. Anyways, she gave me a recipe, and uh, I was wondering if you wanted to make them with me? Sometime, or like, now, even? My dad has all the ingredients,â he told her in a rush, his cheeks turning the same colour as his hair.
âIâd love to!â Biana beamed. âDid you want to come over? Or could I go to your place?â she asked him. She didnât mind the chaos of the triplets; the Diznee household was always lively, but it was comfortable, unlike her own house sometimes.
âSure!â he replied. âLeap over in 10?â
âAwesome!â
- - - -
âUgh, why is this so hard?â Biana grumbled as she pulled their fifth batch of cookies from the oven. This batch was too burnt to eat, but Dex still grabbed one once they had cooled down. He made a face as he took a bite, and Biana laughed.
âI actually think this is our best batch so far!â he grinned, wiping cookie crumbs off his face with the back of his hand. âI mean, theyâre a little burnt, yeah, but they donât taste super gross!â
Curious, Biana grabbed a cookie off the tray and sampled it. She spit it out almost immediately. âWhat do you mean, they donât taste gross?!â she demanded.
Dex smiled, snatching the cookie from Bianaâs hand. âEh, I like them.â
Biana pouted. âShould we try one last time?â she asked him, dumping the batch into the garbage, which was filled with their other failed attempts.
âWhy not?â Dex reached for the flour, but accidentally knocked it over and sent a large cloud of flour into the air that settled over Bianaâs face and hair. âOops!â
Biana turned to him. âDexter Alvin Diznee! How dare you?!â Biana tried to dust herself off, but quickly realized her attempts were futile, as she only succeeded in spreading more flour in her hair.
Dex took one look at her and doubled over, laughing. He was interrupted by a puff of flour exploding in his face.
Biana smirked at him.
âHey!â he complained, âit was an accident!â
Biana giggled, and Dex joined in, scooping up a handful of flour and throwing it at her face.
She gasped before retaliating, and soon it became an all-out flour war.
Eventually, their laughter died down as they surveyed the room. The two of them were dusted head-to-toe in flour, and so was the rest of the kitchen.
âSo much for batch number six,â Biana commented, tugging on Dexâs sleeve as she searched for some paper towel. âWeâd better clean up!â
âAlright,â he agreed, sighing.
- - - -Â
15 minutes later, the kitchen was relatively flour-free. Dex reached up to dust some flour out of Bianaâs hair. She gently grabbed his hand and interlocked her fingers with his. âThis was fun,â she told him softly. âThanks.â
âIt was, wasnât it? And even though the cookies didnât turn out so well,â he said, smiling as Biana giggled, âwe could always try again!â
âIâd like that.â
âMe too.â
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