#i wanted to answer this earlier but i have the attention span of a fly

[chelleinyy]

(AU) An Early End: PROLOGUE

TW: Mentions of @bus$e, and canonical child @bu$e

No matter how much he boasted, no matter how strongly he proclaimed their dominance in Concordia owing to their family name, Archie could have never predicted the sudden intrusion of the Concordian Flying Squad into his father's estate.

His father, had seized and dragged him up to his room the moment he returned from assisting his mother in Crimson Banks with her distillery business. The entire situation was a whirlwind as he was forcefully marched upstairs, his arm still burning from his father's grip. It was all too familiar – Malcolm's rages had resurfaced, and Archie unfortunately found himself at the receiving end once again.

"I had hoped your exile in Switzerland would have instilled some sense into you! Why are you still the same haughty child from months ago?! I demand to see a mature and composed man, not a whining brat!" Malcolm had yelled, before shoving Archie unceremoniously into his room.

He was getting impatient, wasn’t he? He truly wants to see a man the moment he returned. Even when he helped his mother, it is only met with a dismissive demeanor.

Archie had braced himself, fully expecting the sting of his father's leather belt to lash across his back. In the midst of the tirade, Archie was still stammering out questions when something abruptly diverted his father’s attention. Malcolm's irritation turned momentarily to a servant, barking orders to answer the insistent calls at the front door. Frustration boiled over as he shouted at the servant upon learning that the visitor wished to speak with him.

Just before he left him, a stern warning was imparted to Archie, for his punishment had not yet been done.

"Stay put in this room, Archie, unless you want to feel both the leather strap and metal end of the belt across your back. Is that clear?" Malcolm's glare bore into his son before he slammed Archie's door shut, leaving him to contemplate the precarious situation he found himself in.

Moments earlier, he had anxiously awaited his father's return into the room, brandishing the belt. His apprehension growing for his awaited punishment. Strangely, his father seemed to be outside for an unusually long span. As he sat upon his bed, Archie let out a sigh, a mixture of relief and lingering tension.

"What must I do to be a capable son?" said Archie as he pressed his face against his hands. "What could I have possibly done to provoke him this time?"

With Malcolm, such questions always had answers, regardless of circumstances. In his father's eyes, Archie was a disgrace. Ever since his return from Switzerland, it seemed he existed as a mere pawn beneath his father's ever-watchful eye. The lectures and reprimands had become relentless, an almost daily ordeal, only interrupted by his father's obligations as a senator.

At this point, even breathing too loudly will cause him to yell at me again.

Almost each day, Archie braced himself for yet another reprimanding, or perhaps even a harsher punishment to be given out.

The forceful swing of a door ajar went unnoticed, overshadowed by the absence of Malcolm's presence. Instead, a singular uproar echoed in Archie's ears, emanating from the lower floor. There, an eruption of voices, abrupt and intense, among them the distinctive tones of his father.

Caught off guard by the sudden tumult, Archie sprung from his bed. advancing toward his chamber door, he pressed his ear against its wood surface. His hand rested on the doorknob, ready for an exit. Yet, a moment of uncertainty held him back.

His father had a stern instruction not to leave his room. Nevertheless, urgency pervaded the voices downstairs—his father's among them. Wait, this could be significant.

The reverberating commotion from below carried across the corridor, and Archie's discernment caught more than just his father's voice.

"Release me! This is utter nonsense—"

"Senator Rochester! You are hereby arrested on allegations of orchestrating the wrongful confinement of your political adversaries within Gryphon Sanctuary asylum, utilizing fabricated accusations, and engaging in multiple instances of abusing your senatorial authority!"

Everything went blank in Archie’s mind as he heard those words. He felt frozen in place.

What? No.

No. It couldn't be.

This has to be false, it's absurd. It can't be. It isn't possible.

A heavy sensation clawed at Archie's insides, his eyes widening with disbelief. His father, arrested? Total madness. What he's hearing—it's like, no, it can't be happening. It's like everything's crashing down.

"ARCHIE! COME DOWN HERE!"

"Blasts," he muttered. " "Even when he’s being arrested, he wants to berate me." His fingers clamped onto the doorknob. It felt like there was a knot forming, twisting in his gut and constricting his chest. A conflict churned inside him, torn between rushing out to face his father, the fear of another scolding propelling him, and staying put in his room, driven by the same gnawing dread. His breath hitched, a shaky uncertainty holding him back from that final step outside.

What if he just... stayed put?

"ARCHIBALD ROCHESTER!"

‘Step out, help him,’ Archie's inner voice urged. ‘He needs you-–’

"ARCHIBALD ROCHESTER, IF YOU DO NOT COME DOWN IMMEDIATELY–"

‘But he'll yell at you regardless, yet-’ Yet what?

What could he do to save his father from arrest? His father had cleared his name in his Mr. Alastor scandal. However, now the same man that had cleaned his hands might no longer be at his side? What use was it to step outside? Was he going to step outside in fear of the possibility of a beating?

"ARCHIE–"

“Mister Rochester, that will do. We are taking you into custody while we await Judge Lawson’s call for the trial.”

Those words yanked Archie from his reverie. A fleeting sense of relief washed over him, a thin veneer of comfort that he might escape a confrontation.

'What in the world were you thinking? Your father's been hauled off!'

"No! This is insane, I should've been there!" cursed Archie. "I'll probably get blamed for this too–"

With a resolute motion, he swung the door open, running across the corridor. Arriving at the top of the staircase, his eyes fell upon his father, being taken away by constables, wrists in handcuffs, with Detective Bontempts and Chief Wright behind them.

As Archie watched his father being taken away by the constables, he hurried down the stairs to catch up with Chief Wright, who stood resolutely by the door. Struggling to catch his breath, Archie confronted the chief, demanding for answers.

"Chief Wright," Archie gasped, his hand pressed to his chest, "where are you taking my father?"

Chief Wright crossed his arms, eyeing Archie with a frigid stare. “Mister Rochester, your father is bound for incarceration, accused of dispatching his political adversaries to Gryphon Sanctuary."

"Yes, yes, I'm aware," Archie retorted. "Explain to me, is there–"

"Regrettably, there exists no avenue for your intervention, young sir," Chief Wright replied icily. His tone harbored unwavering certainty, taking him back to their last interaction when Archie walked free from custody on the night he was apprehended as Mister Alastor. "Concrete evidence has been amassed against him, and his trial stands prepared for this very afternoon. Good day."

With that, he left.

What in the world just happened? His father, apprehended. The man who, to Archie, had been invulnerable. To the public, he was affable—a virtuous senator incapable of wrongdoing. But behind closed doors, the father he knew was... well, to put it mildly, stern. But this? It couldn't be true!

What would guarantee his father’s sentence? Archie knew of his father's transgressions, political or personal, but he covered his tracks meticulously. It couldn't be his father's visits to those prostitutes – that wasn't a criminal offense. Or perhaps it was related to his father's involvement in confining his adversaries to the asylum? Maybe a servant had told the authorities of what happens at Malcolm’s manor? That Justin Lawson had surely seen fit to penalize such things. What could have led to his father's arrest? And what would become of his father, of him?

Would his father be even be able to walk free, like he did?

Collapsing to the floor onto his knees, Archie felt a tightness in his chest. He reached for his inhaler from his jacket, still grappling with the reality unfolding before him. One thing was certain.

After the trial, Archie would visit his father. He couldn't explain why, but it was imperative. Regardless of whether his father was behind bars, he had to see him.

#criminal case #criminal case mysteries of the past #archie rochester #malcolm rochester #rochesters #my fic #WOOOO FINALLY POSTED IT #thank you for my mutual for helping me write this AU 🫶

[freneticfloetry]

seven(ish) sentence sunday

starting the week with somewhere around seven sentences from the second chapter of to build a home. thanks to @rmd-writes for the tag!

(i’m in my feels at the moment, so if you saw seven different sentences here earlier, shhh, no you didn’t.)

"Babe, I know you're going for the big reveal or whatever, which is, just, so sweet, but the blindfold is kinda making me want things we can't legally do in public."

Behind him, Carlos chuckles, feeling the rush of warmth down to his bones, and his lips skim the spot along the side of TK's jaw that always makes him shiver.

"Hold that thought."

His fingers fumble with the unfamiliar lock for a second before the key finally turns in his hand, and he slides the old factory door smoothly open on its track before he can shake out of his skin. His hands find TK's hips and hang on tight, at least a little to steady himself, mostly so he can walk them inside together.

"Yeah," TK drawls, "that's not helping."

"You have the attention span of a fruit fly," Carlos answers. "You know that, right?"

tagging in @mixtapestar, @hoko-onchi-writes, @eidetictelekinetic, @twangcat, @nellie-elizabeth, and whoever else might have words to share today.

#seven sentence sunday #to build a home #my fic #writing #the proverbial plate

[lordoftherazzles]

Did you know there's a scene cut from the movie that shows up in the trailer of the Battle of the Five Armies in which Thorin briefly says, "Everything I did, I did for them," likely referring to Fili and Kili, which shows Thorin was not motivated by greed or personal gain, but for his family, which is why he was so determined to regain Erebor, so his family would have a home.

I DID KNOW THIS!!!! And I'm sad it was cut!! I absolutely love that line and I just, ughhhh.

I love Thorin so much, and I agree Anon, he wasn't motivated by greed or personal gain, and that just makes me love him more. We love our family-oriented dwarf king!!

#raz answers #i wanted to answer this earlier but i have the attention span of a fly #anon asks #WE LOVE OUR DWARF KING #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit

[suna-reversed]

the sweetest thing

MAFIA AU! USHIJIMA X FEM READER !!nsfw!!

warnings/tags- slight voyeurism, fingering, smut turned fluff

The mixed scent of alcohol and that one expensive cologne he always wore hit you like a ton of bricks. That’s all you forced yourself to focus on, but you found it quite a tough task as the strong lingering trail of your juices filled the air, two of his long digits pushing past your slick walls. Choking back on a moan, you gripped his wrist tightly, confused as to whether you wanted to pull his hand off of you or beg him to rub it against you harder. He stopped his ministrations as you did so, not because he got the hint, but just so he could make you look up into his stern eyes that conveyed exactly how much worse tonight would be for you if you didn’t let him continue. 

You don’t exactly know how you ended up here. In the backseat of a posh car owned by the most dangerous man amongst Japan’s underground mafia. Just a whisper of his name had even the most powerful of gang leaders shaking with fear. You were still conflicted about the fear, but he sure did have your legs shaking more and more with each thrust of his fingers. You had buried your face in his shoulder, hoping that the red-haired driver would simply believe that your closeness to the man he answered to was simply a gesture of affection and not a desperate attempt at muffling your moans. You seemed to fail at that task as the fingers inside you were pulled out, only to be placed at your sensitive nub instead, rubbing circles so hard and fast that you couldn’t contain the sudden moan that left your mouth. You came undone, hips bucking against the rings on his fingers as your mind drowned in both pleasure and shame.

You could barely breathe as you felt the car come to a stop in front of your college campus. Ushijima simply put your pushed aside panties back in place, bringing up his fingers to his mouth to suck off your juices, his intense gaze locked onto yours. You didn’t think your face could get any more flustered. 

“Let me walk you back to your dorm.” Not a question. 

A shiver went down your core for what you were in for. Your mind flashing back to the memory from barely less than an hour ago when Ushijima had you pressed up against a wall outside the venue of the banquet, his lips attached to yours, the taste of champagne and cigars still heavy on his tongue as it explored yours with a passion as deep as the mariana trench. 

Your train of thought was interrupted as you noticed he had already gotten out, waiting for you with an outstretched hand. Despite having just felt him so deep inside you, the gesture somehow managed to give you more butterflies. It felt different. somehow more intimate. His calloused fingers slowly wrapped around yours, his large hand encasing almost all of yours. It made you feel warm. protected. safe. The crimson blush that grew on your nose didn’t go unnoticed by him, and maybe that’s why he didn’t leave your hand even as you started walking. Looking back, you wondered how differently things would’ve turned out if you hadn’t tripped over that one particular chair leg that unfortunate day. 

-------------------

“I would rather eat glass than live this day all over again” you thought to yourself while recapping the events of the last 18 hours.

Your roommate had shown up drunk late at night, bruised up and beaten from a bar fight, barely giving you any time to sleep as you tended to them. Because of that, not only were you sleep deprived, but also super late to your morning classes. Plus, you were pretty sure you had managed to royally fuck up the exam you had in the afternoon. 

Wanting to unwind from the trainwreck of a day, you had stopped by your favourite cafe to grab a coffee. A headache seemed to be crawling up your head as you stood in line waiting for your order. You were so tired, you barely paid attention to your steps as you grabbed your order and went to leave. Instead, you felt time slow down as your foot got caught on the edge of a left out chair, your drink going flying onto the chest of the person who had been sitting on the opposite side. It took you a second to scramble up your feet, ready to apologise to whoever you had just sprayed with a high dose of caffeine. But as you looked up, you found yourself a little breathless staring into the olive brown orbs of a greek god of a man. A greek god whose face was raging with passive anger. The look immediately sent you into a ramble of apologies, your words of “I’m so sorry” and “I’ll pay for the ruined shirt” getting all jumbled over each other as you poorly tried to explain your own clumsiness. 

‘It’s alright. You don’t have to pay for anything.’ The deep rumble of his voice made your insides shiver. 

“Are you sure? I can get you a tissue-”

“It’s fine, I was leaving anyway.” 

A curt nod was all you received before the man turned his broad back to you, striding out with confidently. You found it weird that not even a single person turned their head to look at the man in a white shirt with a large brown stain stretched across it. You pushed that thought out to the side as a wave of tiredness hit you again. Relieved that the situation didn’t get messy, you walked back to your dorm for a much needed nap.

On the other hand, people who had known the identity of the menacing man gawked at you, wondering how you had walked just out the place without a bullet in you. 

----------------------

“Achoo!” 

You wrapped your arms around yourself, visibly shivering as the cold air hit you. You almost whined at the warmth of Ushijima’s hand being pulled out of yours. But then a much larger and warmer fabric was thrown over your shoulders, you could've melted right there at its softness. Gazing up at him from under your lashes, you muttered out a small thanks as you nuzzled further into the collar of his cozy coat. You could've sworn you heard him sucking in his breath. His hand slipped into yours again, tugging you closer. You walked in silence, your mind still clouded by all that had happened in the span of half a night. 

“Well, that’s my building.” you said. Looking over at Ushijima’s face, you found it glowing under the illumination of the lights coming from past the entry gates.

“ Thank you for accompanying me tonight y/n.”

“ Oh, it was no big deal really. Plus, I enjoyed it a lot. Thank you for inviting me.” 

He gave you a small smile as his hand left yours and he turned around, ready to leave,

“Wait! Aren’t you going to…” You trailed off as he turned back, raising an eyebrow at your puzzled face. 

Your face contorted in confusion, was he not going to join you in your dorm? Especially after the bulge you’re sure you felt while you had been grabbing onto his thighs for support in the car earlier. 

 “...come inside?” You finished, your voice small and hesitant. 

His lips twitched upwards almost playfully, 

“Was the perverse exposition in the car not enough for you?”

“No!- I mean yes, it was.” You found your voice getting smaller and smaller. “But um- don’t you...need anything?” 

Your breath hitched in your throat as he took two long strides towards you, your face now an inch away from his chest. You felt a finger lift your chin as he brought his head close to your ear to whisper,

“Not now- I want to take my time with you” His teeth grazed down as he mumbled onto the skin of your neck, “- to learn every inch of you.” 

A small moan escaped past your throat. Pulling away, his intense burning gaze faded as a smirk formed on his lips, 

“Besides, we wouldn’t want you to wake the whole building up with your screams now would we?” 

Your eyes widened at that, causing a small laugh out of him. That only resulted in you getting more flustered.

“Ok then, I guess I’ll see you soon Ushijima-san.” 

“Wakatoshi” 

“Huh?” 

“It’s Wakatoshi for you.” He said, adjusting the collar of his coat on you and then leaning forward to press a gentle kiss against your brow. 

You tried to ignore the deafening drumming of your heartbeat in your ears as you muttered out a “Goodnight Wakatoshi”, earning a pleased look from the man himself. 

“Goodnight y/n.” 

 Was he really as vicious and bloodthirsty as he was known to be? But then who was the man who had just now made you drown in an ocean of pleasure and then tender affection? Walking away, you could only wonder of all that you were yet to receive from the dual faced man.

------------

N E ways, hardcore dom-sub rough sex in part two? ☉_☉

#ushijima smut #ushijima hcs #ushijima angst #ushijimafluff #hq x you #haikyuu x reader #mafiaau #haikyuumafia #ushijima mafia #haikyuu fluff #hq college au #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu angst #hq smut #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #hqnsfw #haikyuu mafia #mob au #ushijima mob #hq mob au

[gryffindors-weasley]

Wild Hearts

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: You and Ron go for a ride in his fathers car one summer night.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none—fluff and kissing, light swearing

A/N: This is inspired by the song Stargazing by The Neighbourhood! It is also a continuation from a part of one of my fics here

It was the start of summer, your second summer spent at the Burrow since you and Ron had moved into a place of your own. To have not only one home but two was a dream in and of itself; twice the comfort and twice the opportunity to be homesick should you stray too far from either for too long. It was a delightfully bittersweet feeling, but you wouldn’t trade what you’ve got for the world. The Weasley family had always been welcoming, radiating the utmost of warmth and boisterous energy, but the same could not be said of that chaos when night rolled around. It was strikingly quiet.

You lay there in the small bed once belonging to Ron throughout his childhood, crammed for space as you lay pressed against his side like you had been for the better part of an hour. It felt as though just one wrong move from either of you and one of you would be sent toppling to the floor; it has happened before. The two of you stared restlessly at the slanted wooden ceiling, the moonlight shining in the window illuminating the little bits of dust being pushed around by the breeze coming in through the cracks in the walls. If you tried hard enough, you were so bored you just might have been able to count them.

It was impossibly quiet save for the chirping of the crickets outside and the occasional myriad of chimes when the clocks around the home struck a new hour. A new hour of doing anything but sleep. The different pitches of unsynchronized clocks signaling it was only one o’clock in the morning had been taunting you. Ron had made a few attempts to sleep, he even snored for a span of ten or so minutes, but ultimately he was left to lay awake just as you had been. Your minds were far too busy and had yet to slow down with the chaos of the family game night just hours earlier.

A huff puffed up your cheeks and left your lips while your fingers tapped absentmindedly, your hands clasped and rested in your stomach. His own sigh was soon to follow, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth in an attempt to fill the quiet of the room. As if on cue, you turn your head to the left as he turns his to the right, and you share a mirrored look as you bite the inside of your cheek. No words needed to be spoken, rarely did they ever at this point in your relationship. You knew each far too well by just a simple look.

“Wanna go for a drive?” He asks after a moment, the tip of his nose nearly bumping yours in the crowded and close proximity.

Your smile forms at the mere mention of the idea, widening more so when he matched your grin with one of his own. You laugh softly as you look up at the ceiling once more for a brief moment before returning your gaze to him, your giggling never ceasing. “You mean in the car you’ve been forbidden to use for the rest of life?”

His smile is lopsided as he tries to look at you in discontent at your question, moving to prop himself on his elbow. “That was twelve years ago,” he squints as he defends himself, “besides, I didn’t do half bad.”

“Half bad? I suppose I should ask the whomping willow. Or perhaps I could just use my memory,” you retort with a scoff and he throws his head back, heaps of ginger hair flopping out of his face momentarily. He groans, smiling nonetheless. He knows you’ll never stop teasing him about it for as long as he presents you with an opportunity.

“For old times sake?” He asks after a little while longer, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile once he brings himself to look at you. You laugh softly at him, his hair falling back around his face once more. You pretended to ponder the offer just to get on his nerves in playful mocking.

“As if I could say no to anything to rescue me from my boredom,” you beam as you kiss his nose, quick to get up from the squeaky mattress in search of your shoes.

He follows suit as he slips on his jeans, nearly tripping over his own feet as he snags his converse from under the bed. He grabs his tattered denim jacket from the back of the chair at his desk, knowing full well you’d need it.

The trip to the very first floor was not an easy feat. Not with the creaky old stairs working against you, not with the giggles you could barely seem to stifle, certainly not with the miscellaneous shoe on a step Ron hadn’t seen. It was sent tumbling down each and every step with a near painful sound that had you narrowing your eyes at him as he shrugged. Regardless of the utter clumsiness you managed to make it without waking the large family.

Ron stood in place for a moment as you looked at him quizzically and waited, watching as he shrugged on his jacket and wandered to the uneven countertop in the kitchen. He steps on the very end of a loose board and you start to smile as the other end pops up, a set of glimmering keys snatched from its spot. He turns to face you with a proud smile.

“Perhaps my mum should’ve picked a new spot,” he chuckles, spinning the keys around his finger.

You respond with an eye roll when you grab his hand, tugging him out of the door in hushed laughter. The fresh air and breeze was much better than the stuffy confines of his room at the highest point of the house, and you found yourself even more excited for the spontaneity of your plans. Even on your rush he still stopped to open your door, an action not having gone unnoticed by you as you smiled brightly at him.

“Are you sure you know how to fly this thing? You never quite seem to stick the landing,” you quip once he joins you, looking over at Ron with a half smirk, one that widened with the sheer look of offense crossing his face.

“Yes, I very well do, love,” he scoffs as if it’s the most obvious thing to know, not without grumbling under his breath either. “You try flying a car when you’re twelve.”

You laugh to yourself and shake your head, and when you turn to look at him once more, he’s already looking at you fondly despite his counter. It’s a fleeting moment of love not needing to be spoken, only heightening when he leans over the center console to kiss you once more. He nearly winces when he turns the key in the ignition, the headlights flickering on and the engine roaring to life with a certain rumble that had been telling of the car’s age. His father could no longer ground him for this, but his mother would not hesitate to scold him till the end of time if she knew just what he’d been doing.

Without much of a second thought he put the car in drive and set off down the path, tires spinning quickly down the old dirt driveway and leaving behind a cloud of dust in its wake. Surely they must have heard the tires squeal.

When you reach the end he lifts above ground in a not-smooth-takeoff, but you were far too caught up in the familiar rush, rolling the windows down. The summer air pulsed through the car in waves as he lifted above the treeline, seemingly one with the stars still far from you. You looked to each other briefly with the same beaming smiles, your laughter mingling in the space and filtering out into the night air. Everything felt weightless as you soared along, the wind blowing warmly through your hair as you stuck your arm out the window. There was no need to be hushed, no need to refrain from the giddy cheers and comical howls at the moon.

In that very moment, nothing else mattered. Not the imminent scolding of his mother, not the work you had to do when you returned to your own home, not the repercussions of a night having gone unslept. What mattered was the memory you were living, the way Ron let loose and felt free as he hollered at the moon, the way your heart raced with utter happiness. That’s what mattered.

He knows you’ll always have a hold on his heart, you have since the day he met you and he knows it’ll never change, not that he wants it to. You’re everything wonderful the world has to offer wrapped up in one person, and he doesn’t quite know how it’s possible. He’s enamored, that he did know. He’s enchanted and far beyond spellbound, feeling more than lucky that you chose to love him of all others in the universe. It was him you loved with the utmost of certainty, the sincerest of loves. It was him.

You passed over rolling hills and thriving trees, Ron’s hand in yours in wordless protection as you moved to look out the open window. That’s when he found himself staring when he knew he shouldn’t be. Staring at the way the moonlight danced across your skin and glimmered in your hair to the point that you looked ethereal. At the way you laughed joyously and freely, eyes closed as the ever-flowing breeze swirled through your hair. At the smile gracing your lips he so desperately wanted to kiss. It was his gawking that nearly made him swooped too low and scrape the front end on a hill, his heart thumping wildly as the two of you shared a fleeting look of surprise before laughing.

He knows that is but another thing you’d make sure to never let him forget, at least not for a long while. But how was he to help his distracted attention when you capture it so easily? When you steal it with no effort at all? The answer still remained to be seen.

—

The strikingly memorable clearing soon made its appearance, Ron releasing your hand to slow the car and dip to a landing. A very expectedly rocky landing he knew he’d be hearing about.

You parked in the grass, giddy and breathless as you pushed open the door and rushed out without care to close it. The night sky was vast and clear, not a cloud in sight as it sat littered with twinkling stars while you looked up at it with outstretched arms. Ron was quick to follow, not bothering to close the door either as he trails close behind. But rather than focusing his attention on the sky, he finds he’s much more content focusing on you. It was then that he enveloped you in his embrace and it was then that your gaze pulled from above you and moved to the beaming smile belonging to your blushing redhead. You grin brightly as he twirls you in his arms, hold never faltering as you rest your forehead on his, his nose brushing against yours.

“I love you,” he laughs, still jittery from the thrill of the ride. “Bloody hell I love you.”

Before you have a chance to respond, his lips are on yours, soft and tender as his hand settles on your cheek. Your quieted laughter seeps into his kiss, your fingers gripping the striped fabric of his t-shirt. He kissed you with every bit of love he had to give, cheeks flushing what was surely the same shade of his hair. You hadn’t wanted to part from him, didn’t ever want to but he’d gone and kissed you breathless, more than you already had been.

You cheeks burned a dull heat when you pulled away, lips still brushing against one another as you exhaled a breathy laugh, sharing an adoring smile. You couldn’t help but kiss him once more—twice more. It left his heart bounding within his chest, left him feeling as though this was the first time kissing you. But he was starting to think that every time felt like the first time.

The softness of his smile spoke volumes as he looked at you, leaning to rest his forehead on yours again.

“I love you,” you murmur, and his hands drop down to squeeze your own.

The moment lasted all too briefly as you pulled him with you, but he found he’d follow you just anywhere so the thought hadn’t bothered him too much. The two of you sat on the old blue hood, backs pressed to the windshield as a breathy laugh leaves your lips. Surely his muddy converse would leave his ever distinctive shoe prints that he’d forget to clean off, and surely Molly would scold him all the next morning for it. But that could wait for now. Everything else could wait.

“You’re a bad influence, you know,” he chuckles, his hand falling to his side to grab a hold of yours.

“And you’re a bad driver,” you counter, turning your head to the right to meet his already narrowed gaze.

It softened within seconds, however, a gentle smile on his lips as he allowed himself to stare. He didn’t care that his hair was poking in his eyes, or that laying on the hood of a car was ridiculously uncomfortable. He didn’t care that it was a tad too warm for a jean jacket or that his cheeks still burned from nearly wrecking his dad’s car again. When he looked at you it didn’t matter.

Without hesitation he rolled to his side, his grip on your hand never faltering as he leaned in and kissed you again. Soft and sweet, tender and loving. When you parted he stayed mere centimeters from your lips, nose bumping yours as his smile when unseen but his laughter obvious against your lips. With one more kiss he rolls back over, grinning like the lovestruck fool he knew himself to be. He was always your lovestruck fool.

In that moment everything settles around you. The laughter quieted, your pounding hearts calmed. It was serene in the way the breeze blew over you in such a way he rid himself of his jacket to give to you before finding your hand again. Peaceful in the way the crickets sang and the lightning bugs fluttered all around you. The sky seemed too breathtaking for its own good, vast and endless and full of sparkling beauty.

You hadn’t done this—you hadn’t been here since you were seventeen. Though being twenty-four hadn’t felt much different. You were still hopelessly in love just as much as you always had been.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He starts.

“The moon.”

You finish a sentence you knew all too well. The look he gives you is priceless and precious all the same and you can’t help but smile.

“What?”

“I’m beginning to think you’re just as sappy as that love potion made you be,” You jest, and he chuckles as he looks above him, quiet for a short while.

“I can’t believe Harry told you that bit,” he sighs, shaking his head.

“I’m glad he did,” you say softly, and he turns head and looks at you then.

Your eyelids had grown heavy as the late hour had started to catch up with you, your smile small yet loving as you blinked at him slowly. He released your hand in favor of pulling you close, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, then one to your nose.

“Me too,” he murmured.

He knew it was only a matter of time before the two of you fell asleep. He knew he’d come home to his parents waiting for him with crossed arms and worried expressions soon turned angry. He knew it all but couldn’t bring himself to care in that moment.

Your hearts were too wild and you were far too in love to let this pass you by.

—

Tags: @vogueweasley @theweasleysredhair @anchoeritic @harrysweasleys @hahee154hq @amourtentiaa @snitches-at-dawn @awritingtree @lupinsclassroom @dracosathenaeum @writeroutoftime

#ron weasley #ron weasley one shot #ron weasley headcanon #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x you #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley fic #ron weasly imagine

[ateezgf]

Hi I’m a new atiny and I’m excited about my first comeback with them but I had a question? Maybe it’s dumb but is there like a storyline to their MVs? I still haven’t watched all of them but I was wondering what the hourglass meant that’s all over this comeback. Anyway thank you very much, I’m sorry if this is weird

hi !! first off, welcome :D how are you liking ateez so far? any favorite boys yet? i hope all the pre-comeback activities are hyping you up!! ALSO, that isn't a dumb question i promise !! yes, they do have a storyline! it comes with a lot of theories since they won’t explicitly tell us & it also spans across A LOT of their content. like mvs, albums, lyrics, vcrs, shows, etc. i’ll put my own thoughts under the read more because it’s a lot. i also can’t explain the hourglass without telling you about their story too. 

to me, the ateez storyline has pretty general themes in regards to good vs evil.. rebellion vs control.. multiverses/timelines/time travel. i’ll be going through this per era (treasure & fever) !! i’ll try to focus primarily on their mvs, but i’ll mention some things from their albums and some vcrs for their comebacks.

TREASURE ERA (EP.1-5): 

pirate king/treasure mv doesn’t have too much story to it. these two mvs are mainly just introductions to them and their story. esp with the very iconic lines “will you be my friend?” and in the intro track on the album right before pirate king, “will you join us?” they sing a lot about their ambitions and the future. it’s safe to believe that this is the good ateez. 

say my name is our first glance at the bad ateez (or who everyone calls halateez). in this mv, we can see that ateez are in distress. in a lot of their solo shots, they’re typically in not likable settings. yeosang is trapped in a glass box with a member of halateez staring him down. hongjoong is sat in a blue hallway with a lot of smoke. yunho is at a desk surrounded by papers & this is also where we first see the hourglass (or cromer). however, it’s just a prop for now. san is in a room surrounded by broken glass.. BUT only after he is seen staring at one of the members of halateez through it. in the big table scene, you can see them all working to find the answer to something.. which is very interesting to note that wooyoung is the only one to be seen in that room alone after an alarm seemingly makes all the other evacuate. WE ALSO get the first face-off between halateez and ateez. but they’re not directly face to face. they’re only seeing them through glass panels & we can see that ateez is very clearly defiant when it comes to them. we also see that when seonghwa is facing the halateez member alone, that it’s him. which could also showcase the time traveling aspect. as if halateez is jumping through the timelines to get to them. another interesting thing to note that in the last verse of the song, it switches off between ateez and halateez. this mv ends with the treasure instrumental & yeosang missing from the glass casing. 

in hala hala, it is primarily halateez. the members in this mv are seen in darker attire & makeup and more clean cut. i believe halateez is from a universe where they are the ones in charge & calling the shots. if not that, then a very organized and powerful rebellion group. hence the same outfits almost like a uniform. this mv isn’t much but halateez dancing.. HOWEVER, the ending is VERY interesting. all members snap their necks at the same time (hence the lyric ‘suicide squad’).. all members BUT wooyoung. he ultimately pretends to do it, but is the last one standing and wiping blood from his mouth while surrounded by all of the bodies.. and remember, wooyoung was the only one alone in the room all of ateez were in while they were working on documents. 

jumping to wave & illusion.. we can see that this is a pretty sudden change. however, it all still matches with their storyline very well. 

in illusion, the members are seen in bright and colorful clothing on a flying boat asleep. in this, they’re back to that adventuring pirate crew from the beginning. however, the lyrics show that they have... no idea who they are and where they are. it’s believed too that the lyrics are talking to someone. in the middle of all of their singing about how they found paradise and how they can just party it up now, there’s a repeated “let me free” which kind of seems.. out of place. if we’re having fun, why do we need to be let free? as the title entails, this is all an illusion. the hourglass is seen again along with a glass cube and a butterfly on a table. we also see a quick glance of a halateez mask on the globe. we can see mingi listening to a headset/tape player. they make it to an island that is very.. fake. a large compass.. a floating hourglass and just very desaturated colors. even the members lose saturation when they reach the ground. they eventually find.. a cave? it has a lot of drapes and tinfoil looking walls. for a split second, we see a member of halateez standing there. ateez then reaches a very smokey room with lights and flowers. they don’t look so happy anymore. it’s like the illusion is very much wearing off. also remember, they initially were looking for their paradise so for the illusion of one to be broken... hmm. this mv ends with the members running away towards a light & shots of them sleeping in wave play where it ends with a whispered “open your eyes”. 

in wave, the members are together once again on an island. just them this time. it’s very fun. but.. it’s almost like they were dropped there. i mean, sure it makes sense that san/yeosang/jongho wake up in a bed... but why is mingi waking up under a tree in the middle of nowhere? looking at the headset/tape player confused like it isnt his? why is seonghwa waking up in a pool and why is hongjoong waking up on the road? for the most part, they all wake up alone but they eventually find each other again. once they’re all together, we can see that ateez are suddenly the same carefree souls they were before. constantly talking about how there should be no worries. 

in wonderland, it’s kind of.. hard to distinguish if this is halateez or ateez. we can see a lot of power dynamics here. hongjoong raps about how he shouldn’t be doubted if they wanted to reach neverland/their utopia. i say this because he mentions being a child forever like peter; but also because of the illusion mv. it’s also pretty obvious that mingi holds a type of power here. he’s seen as the center of attention with the marching band like he’s the leader of a grand army. aside from that, i think there’s a bit of a rescue mission occurring? in all honesty, i do not know where san & jongho are within the storyline for this mv. however, we can see that yeosang & seonghwa are in the same tunnel.. but not together. the elevator shot in the beginning is believed to show them going through time and same with the tunnel. which makes sense when you look at the updated ateez logo and the way it looks like it has a lot of lines that meet into the middle. aside from that, we have yunho staring at a bunch of tvs albeit they’re playing nothing we can see. then we have wooyoung.. all chained up and alone. it looks like nobody’s coming to save him the way hwa came to save yeosang and san. perhaps because he had betrayed them in hala hala? the staircase is also pretty important. i dont know the exact piece but i know it’s similar to an art piece that shows an endless staircase and continuous loop.. perhaps a hint at a continuous cycle in the storylines? seeing as this wonderland mv has gone up in flames, it looks like the next plan of action has to be to cross that bridge seen earlier. believed to have been the bridge between dystopia & utopia. 

in the utopia mv, there isn’t a lot of crazy storyline? it’s believed that once ateez walk across that bridge and through the door, they’re in utopia... or so they think. it’s mainly a lot of dancing and pretty shots, but the reoccurrence of smoke-filled rooms leading to rooms of oversaturation is back. the answer vcr before this comeback also show a lot of story. we see halateez and ateez facing off together once again with essentially.. the same question. we’ve spent this whole time believing that ateez are the good guys and halateez are the bad guys... but what if that wasn’t the case? sure, we see them as such but is that who they really are? each respective party holds up a mirror to the other asking “are you evil?” / “are you good?”. cut to the iconic intro of san on his knees.. almost like he’s the one having this war? almost like he’s trying to figure out the answer himself about if he is good or evil. 

the answer mv starts with a man in a white suit looking at the destruction of what was left behind of ateez/halateez. the move of san tipping over an overflowing wine glass.. it’s also thought like he’s turning the hourglass as well as if to start their timer once again. mingi is talking about how he sees that the end is near, but hongjoong brings up how we should finish as strong as we started until we get what we desired. it looks like wooyoung is walking in snow.. or is it the sand of time? i mean.. the hourglass was just tipped over wasn’t it? yeosang is seen alone in a red desert surrounded by broken glass. almost like he’s alone with no way out? speaking of mirrors, it’s also possible that ateez uses mirrors to travel through dimensions. like how san was staring at a member of halateez instead of himself in say my name? well.. yunho is surrounded by mirrors but cant seem to see anything but himself. he’s pretty frustrated about that. wooyoung is also seen in a room of butterflies. butterflies typical have a positive meaning of change, hope, transformation. we then get the icONIC AS HELL SHOT of halateez and ateez face to face at last at the table. as a repeated line entails, they’re making a toast to something. perhaps they have finally come to terms with each other and what to do so that they could exist peacefully as one? but maybe ateez has already done so much to one timeline that another had to be ruined? either way, an agreement was made between both hongjoong’s. at the end of the mv, we are greeted by the man in the white suit again... perhaps it’s another time traveler who knows about what ateez & halateez had done and was trying to stop them. no one knows who that is in all honesty. it’s believed that it might be one of the members. 

FEVER ERA (EP 6-8): 

PHEW OKAY UHHH.. honestly.. i say it’s crucial to watch this diary film at the very least. it explains this timeline of events now. halateez makes a brief appearance to hongjoong and the hourglass is back. poor hongjoong is tasked with finding everyone to bring them together once again. seemingly.. a fallout between friends.. another broken timeline. i feel as though it’s pretty explanatory on each individual backstory, but there is a lot more in depth things. like seonghwa crossing the line and breaking the rules. the endless loop of staircases being represented with san on the escalators as he recounts having to leave his friends again.  they all have their individual things that grounds them whenever theyre feeling lost, but they also had each other. i’m assuming that ateez from the treasure era managed to mess up this timeline of ateez causing them to drive everyone away from each other.. which is why halateez tasked hongjoong with the control of time. i mean, an hourglass holds a specific amount of time but you can manipulate it by turning it before it’s done or choosing to turn it way after it has finished. ultimately, the diary film shows 8 friends who broke off into 8 different paths when they weren’t suppose to and now they’re trying to find each other once again. 

we can see this in the inception mv. a lot of their dreams were broken and so they’re lost without it. ultimately.. they are lost again without each other and their dreams. 

hm.. im not too sure about thanxx. we see a parallel shot of ateez holding the flag like in wonderland. we see the theme of defiance once again. this song talks a lot about how they’re choosing to move on their own path despite what anyone says because who knows themselves better than .. themself. in this mv, they tease their song the real, which they performed on kingdom. 

SPEAKING OF KINGDOM.... EVERY STAGE HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH THEIR STORYLINE. wave overtune showed the pirate route where something happened to hongjoong’s crew and he lost them all. similar to how hongjoong in inception/thanxx has lost them all. from the wonderland is showing WHAT happened to the crew, but this time they don’t lose. rhythm ta (the awakening of summer) has all of these past props (records, yeosang’s violin) being confiscated. this performance is inspired by money heist. AGAIN, we have the theme of government defiance. on the newspaper that wooyoung rips up, it shows that the govt had deemed halateez (Black Pirates) as terr0r1sts. initially, i was wondering if this is just a re-branded halateez but then i remembered.... ateez and halateez had that agreement. perhaps this is the original ateez and they’re doing their part of the deal in protecting halateez. which means stealing back all of the stuff that was stolen and removing evidence & calling for the people to turn against the govt. i see this as halateez turning ateez into a second version of them. especially because the stage ends with hongjoong punching the glass and retrieving the hourglass after putting on a halateez hat. 

in answer: ode to joy, it offers.. closure to the treasure era. kind of. we see yeosang in the glass case again looking at the man in white from answer. then it cuts to halateez seonghwa in the cage with yeosang & the two of them flipping the hourglass together. it’s like yunho tries to stop him, but is too late... which is when he starts facing off with the man in the white suit to distract him so that yeosang & halahwa can get away. we are once again greeted with halateez and ateez facing each other at the table directly mirroring each other. halasan is right behind him copying every move. i know.. yeosang’s bit has symbolism but i can’t remember.. but i know it’s suppose to be like he’s swimming? then during hongjoong’s part, we can see halateez assisting the members in each kingdom stage leading up to answer.. so it’s like showing that halateez (although not seen) has been orchestrating everything this whole time. 

this last bit is pretty major in the story. so it seen that san is praying in the middle of this entire fight.. and wooyoung tries stopping him. his efforts don’t work and san essentially sacrifices himself so that he could fight the man in the white suit alone. i feel like there are more.. perhaps.. 8? men in white suits given that san took down one, jongho was with another, and hongjoong was surrounded by them. it makes me believe that these white suits are again ateez from another timeline trying to stop them. halateez is giving ateez the crown.. as if passing off their power to them. but jongho throws it away instead of accepting it. at the end of all of this chaos.. ateez ultimately comes out on top and defeats both halateez and the white suits. 

OR SO THEY THOUGHT !! in the fireworks mv, they are seen in a dystopian society once again. if you remember, i had brought up smokey rooms often. reason being in the diary ver. of this album, there’s a part that goes into more detail about their story. i need to read into the theories for this era more but the smoke is very important. jongho recounts how he gets suffocated with a smoke that makes him see illusions and past events, but since it all feels so real it all just seems like DEJA VU.......... the dystopian society ateez are in for this mv... it’s smokey as hell. which is believed to be the smoke that causes such illusions but they’re able to break through it. i mean.. look at this teaser for the comeback.. looks way too colorful and peaceful. we don’t see this at all in the fireworks video.. SIKE. when ateez are walking around the dystopian wasteland (aka strictland), they’re in these nice suits. it’s almost like the effects of their illusion from the teaser was wearing off and they started waking up to the reality. and once they start seeing everything for what it is, they once again.. start creating havoc as they have in the past. this mv ends with the white suit man RETURNING ... and seeing the aftermaths of what ateez has done. he looks around as if he knows.. that it was them. 

in the dreamers mv.. again it has small symbolisms. jongho with the headphones (mingi’s headphones).. hongjoong with the small cube.. the spray cans like from halahala. but i dont know too much here. 

NOW.. WE HAVE DEJA VU AND ETERNAL SUNSHINE. we don’t have too much info on them right now since it hasnt been released.. bUT THE HOURGLASS IS BROKEN. the teaser they posted showed that the hourglass has been broken and essentially... all the timelines are broken. this leaves room for a lot of mixed up timelines. which is what people believe is the reason for the reoccurrence of similar hair colors from past eras on different members. we’re all getting deja vu from these repeated looks, no? eternal sunshine... it’s another super bright concept like illusion, thanxx, and celebrate. people are tying this to the movie eternal sunshine of the spotless mind (i actually like this movie). in the movie, the couple gets a medical procedure to have their memories erase from each other. perhaps like how ateez had forgotten about each other?.. but in the movie, the main guy is trying REEEEALLY hard to get her back. which causes a mess in the timelines of their memories. things start repeating with countless acts of DEJA VU and things that just do not seem real. which again.. lines up to their story. 

SIDENOTES: 

first off.. if you read all of this, i love you. i never have been so invested in a story like this before and it genuinely is such an amazing storyline. 

there’s plenty i missed. like.. i didnt even talk about fever road but they have a couple things in there that elaborate on their friendship and everything. i also remembered their mama stage?? im p sure that had plot but i never.. looked  into that one. and not EVERYTHING ateez releases is releated obv.. unless KJK is the man in the white suit but i doubt it. 

but yeah :D those were just my thoughts. if you read this far and have any other theories, plEASE SEND THEM. i think it’s so interesting and i love discussing things.

ADDED NOTES:

control — if you look at some of the choreos, mingi controls ateez with just a gesture of his hand a lot. so perhaps that's also story-related as well? like how i mentioned he had a type of power in wonderland? leader of an army? ateez also has this seoul music awards 2021 perf where they dance like puppets, but it’s not orderly.. they’re missing their puppet master & this performance was during mingi’s hiatus.. hmmm

#SORRY I INFODUMPED ON YOU AND IM SORRY THIS IS SO LONG BUT I JUST !!!!!!! #you really do need to know the story because just saying that theyre pirate timetravelers isnt enough #i dont even know if anyone will read this . i didnt even think it'd get THIS long #if you do read it im giving u a kiss because wow #answered #save

[sokkascroptop]

traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 5

part 1 | part 4 | part 6

A/N: Y/N finally meets the gaang; on a side note, I am really proud of this chapter ❤️

She caught it just a moment before it smacked her in the chest. Her reflexes were delayed from her sleepiness but also from the realization that her Fire Princess just had dropped to her knees and tied her boots for her. “Easy. I’m not a bender. I don’t need the sun.”

“Lo and Li have advised me that it isn’t smart to go after Zuko and Uncle with a Royal Procession.” Azula leaned in the doorway to Y/N’s room. Her hair was a black curtain around her pale face. Y/N ran her fingers through her own loose hair before replying.

“It would be less conspicuous without guards flanking us on all sides. Do you think that the two of us could do it ourselves?” She asked hesitantly, thinking back to just a day earlier when Azula said she was a liability. Y/N wasn’t even planning to fight when she agreed to come! She thought it was going to be easier, she didn’t expect Iroh to be so suspicious of them from the get go. Apparently, neither did Azula. She was so mad when they pulled her from the sea, the water was steaming off of her clothes and skin. 

Azula smiled and sat in the chair to the small, empty writing desk in the room. “I need a small, elite team.” She tapped one pointed nail on her chin. “I think it’s time to call on some old friends, don’t you think so?”

“Mai and Ty Lee?” Y/N questioned. The last time one of them was mentioned Azula set fire to the napkin she was holding at dinner and pointed a butter knife in Y/N’s direction telling her never to mention their names again. 

“Of course them.” Azula rolled her eyes and cracked her fingers. “They’re our friends, Y/N. They’ll do anything I want.” Her voice was low and even though it wasn’t meant as a threat, it sounded like one. 

Azula shut the door to Y/N’s room with a sharp click. She leaned back against her pillow and crossed her arms. This was not going to go well. 

Anytime she and the girls exchanged letters, the answer was always the same. Neither Mai or Ty Lee were planning on coming back to the palace any time soon. They never explicitly said that Azula was the reason–one could never know who was reading your letters–but Y/N could see the subtext. A taste of life outside of Capital City and outside of Azula’s influence had spoiled them. Y/N had never felt like that before, but every day, she got a little bit more understanding as to why one might want to leave. 

It was still dark out when Azula came into Y/N’s room the next morning. She tapped Y/N’s cheek with her nail. “Get up, we’re leaving soon.”

She glared at Azula from under the very warm covers. “Why so early?” 

Azula’s gold eyes flashed with humor. “It’s a long ride into town. I’ve got us a carriage.” She grabbed the blanket that Y/N was clutching and threw them off the bed, leaving her shivering. 

“Every time,” Y/N muttered as she pulled her night clothes off and her red tunic and pants on. 

“Every time what?” Azula asked. Y/N thought she could hear a smile in the other girls words but she was currently too busy looking cross-eyed at the laces of her boots to check. 

“Why are you such a morning person?” Y/N knew the answer that Azula was going to give, but it didn’t make the question any less relevant in her mind. She hated mornings. 

“More like a question as to why aren’t you?” Hands slapped Y/N’s own fumbling ones away and tied each boot deftly. Before Y/N could even utter a ‘thank you’, Azula was grabbing her sword from where it was propped in the corner and tossing it in Y/N’s direction. 

She caught it just a moment before it smacked her in the chest. Her reflexes were delayed from her sleepiness but also from the realization that her Fire Princess just had dropped to her knees and tied her boots for her. “Easy. I’m not a bender. I don’t need the sun.”

Azula had only tied the boots because she wanted to get going, Y/N decided. Probably.

“You sound like one of those Water Tribe savages. Next thing you know, you’ll be howling at the moon.” Y/N laughed with Azula no matter how awful she thought the joke was and basked in the warm that her friend gave off. She was always so much nicer in the mornings. 

The sun was just rising as they set off, probably purposeful if she knew Azula. Y/N stared out the window the whole trip. She’d never been to the Earth Kingdom before and she was so intrigued by everything she saw. There was greenery everywhere. It made her heartache for her childhood home on Ember Island. The climate was different, here it was much cooler and the wind ruffled the leaves on the trees every now and then. And Ember Island was hot and muggy year round. But she couldn’t miss the similarities of the two places. Every now and then she’d catch an animal she’d never seen before run past and she’d all but hold her head out the window to get a second look. Azula was much more regal, which was unsurprising though she wasn’t sure if Azula had ever been to the Earth Kingdom either. She sat in the seat across Y/N with her arms crossed and her feet on the bench next to Y/N. Azula had her eyes closed the whole time, reclining in a beam of sunlight coming in through the windows, but Y/N knew she wasn’t sleeping. 

She thought Azula looked much better like this; with her face softened in relaxation. No furrowing of the eyebrows or pursing of her lips. Occasionally, the wind would blow in the windows and ruffle her usually pristine hair. Y/N thought Azula glared and frowned way too much for a fourteen year old girl, Fire Princess or not. Just then Azula cracked open one of her eyes like she knew Y/N was thinking about her. But Y/N didn’t look away like she usually would have done. She just stared and smiled at her friend until Azula closed that eye again and settled further down into the seat. Y/N chose to ignore the light tap of Azula’s toe on her elbow, but not the small smile that was now on her face. 

After reaching the town it wasn’t hard to find the circus. Azula and Y/N just followed the noise and the smell. They were set up in a large field where they could have enough room to set up their tall tents and keep their platypus-bears and scorpion-lions. 

Ty Lee was in the middle of it all. 

She didn’t see them when they first approached. Y/N thought it looked like Ty Lee was flying as she flipped head over heels in the grass. She held herself in a perfectly still handstand. Y/N’s abs ached just watching. 

“Azula! Y/N!” Ty Lee rushed forward, hastily bowed, before crushing Azula in a hug. Y/N received the same tight–albeit longer–hug. “It’s so good to see you!” Ty Lee chirped. 

“I’ve missed you!” Y/N did realize how excited she was to see her old friend until she was in her arms. She smelled the same, like rose perfume and the rosin she used in her tricks. Letters were nice, but they took weeks to travel to each other. Something always happened between them, and when it was time to reply, that ‘something’ was never important anymore. 

“Don’t let us interrupt… whatever you’re doing.” Azula raised an arched eyebrow.

Ty Lee took that as permission and backflipped back into a forearm stand and began scissoring her legs in the air. She held herself on her elbows and rested her head in her hands like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

“You look like you’re having the time of your life here, Ty Lee,” Y/N said. The glow on the girls cheeks and the permanent smile on her lips was obvious. She was always bubbly, but she’d never been like this.

“What is the daughter of a nobleman doing here?” Azula asked, gesturing around to the tents and people who walked by. A hurt look erased Ty Lee’s smile, one that Azula didn’t pay attention to. She jumped right in, never caring for small talk. “I have a proposition. I’m hunting a traitor. You remember my old fuddy-duddy uncle?”

“Oh, yeah!” Ty Lee exclaimed. “He was so funny.”

“I would be honored if you would help me and join my mission.” 

Ty Lee’s feet, which moment’s ago rested on her head, slipped as she lost balance and nearly fell forward on her face. She looked to Y/N for assistance but like a coward, Y/N looked at the grass under her boots. The glance lasted half a second, maybe even less but it still made Y/N tense next to Azula as if she was caught with her hand in the bowl of unfried dough by her mother. This was between Ty Lee and Azula. Any indication that Ty Lee and Y/N had spoken since she’d left would. Be. Bad. 

“Oh, you know Azula, I would love to.” She flipped back to her feet. “But the truth is I’m really happy here. My aura has never been pinker!” Y/N smiled. Leave it to Ty Lee to lighten the mood by talking about her auras. It was incredibly smart, to make it seem like you were dumb to avoid consequences. Y/N wished she could pull that card with Azula sometimes, but she knew her too well. And Y/N knew nothing about auras. 

“Well,” Azula frowned. “I wouldn’t want you to give up the life you love to please me.” 

Y/N ground her teeth. She looked up through her lashes at Ty Lee. This was somewhere she finally fit in. Y/N knew the story with Ty Lee’s sisters and how she felt like part of a matched set. This is where she needed to be, not traveling the world with Azula on some mission that wasn’t going to do anything for her. Y/N didn’t have a choice. Ty Lee did. Don’t fall for it! Y/N wanted to scream. 

Maybe it was Agni, or maybe Ty Lee just had more self control and a self-preservation that Y/N lacked. She placed one fist against her open palm and bowed deeply. “Thank you, Azula.” 

Azula was bristling beside Y/N as they walked away. “Of course before we leave we’re going to catch your show. Aren’t we, Y/N?” Azula gripped Y/N’s arm like a vise. 

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Y/N said. 

----

Y/N wasn’t sure what Azula told the ringmaster, but every seat in the tent was empty that night. 

High above their box, a square frame filled the stage. Lanterns hung around the frame, illuminating the whole tent. A tightrope spanned across it; a tightrope which Ty Lee was currently balancing on. 

“We are so pleased to have the Fire Lord’s daughter here tonight to see our humble circus. Please tell us if we can do anything to make it more enjoyable.” the ringmaster bowed and left the stage. 

“I will,” Azula muttered. Y/N furrowed her brow in Azula’s direction but she stared straight ahead like she didn’t even notice. What was she planning? Y/N wondered. 

Ty Lee was perched on a pole that rolled along the tightrope like pulley. She slowly switched from hand to hand, posing with a split in the air. Her costume glimmered under the candle-lit lanterns and her full dancer’s skirt bounced as she moved. 

“Incredible. Do you think she’ll fall?” Azula asked Y/N. 

Y/N scoffed at the question, never taking her eyes off of Ty Lee. “Of course not!”

“Then let’s make it more interesting. Ringmaster! Let’s remove the net at the bottom.”

The man’s grey eyes widened. “Remove the net? The thing is–the performers–”

Azula waved a hand. “You’re right. That’s been done. Set the net on fire.”

“Azula, don’t you think that’s a little much?” Y/N asked warily. She wasn’t sure what her friend was playing at but risking Ty Lee’s life wasn’t the answer. Y/N, however, didn’t get an answer. The ringmaster had already done what she had asked. 

For a second, just as the fire reached all the corners of the net below, Ty Lee seemed to teeter, before regaining her balance. Azula huffed, almost like she expected the other girl to fall. “Brilliant. And ringmaster, what kind of dangerous animals do you have here?”

“Azula, I don’t think–” Y/N started only to be cut off by a hand waving in her face. 

“Well, Princess, our circus boasts an assortment of exotic–”

“Release them all,” Azula smiled. 

Y/N sat in horror as she watched saber-tooth moose tigers, scorpion-lions and even an elephant-bear get released below the tight-rope. 

How Ty Lee managed to finish her act without falling was a mystery to Y/N. When she reached the opposite platform she even blew a kiss in their direction before climbing down and ceding the stage to the rest of the performers. 

Azula had only been interested in Ty Lee’s performance and ignored the rest of the performers, finding filing her nails into sharp points more interesting. Y/N wasn’t much better, her head was still spinning at what Azula had done. This was her friend. Someone who ignited such a rage in leaving her that Azula had threatened Y/N with fire if she ever mentioned her name. Was that why she did it? Was this some type of revenge for running away to the circus?

For a second she allowed her mind to think of what would have happened if Ty Lee hadn’t been such a good acrobat. What would either of them have done had she fallen into the flames? The net was in tatters, blackened and burned away. It couldn’t have held her weight from a fall that far, would have been like it wasn’t even a net at all. Plus she would have been on fire! Y/N had just watched Azula try to publicly kill her, and Y/N had just sat there and watched. 

As soon as the performance ended Azula dragged Y/N out of the tent. The air was full of black smoke from the net being burnt away and it blotted out the stars above. They made their way to Ty Lee’s tent. 

She was sitting at her vanity peeling sticky jewels off her face and wiping away layers of makeup. Y/N stared at the stain of ash that coated her gold-plated headband.

Azula leaned against the table forcing Ty Lee to look up at her. “What an exquisite performance. I can’t wait to see how you’ll top yourself tomorrow.”

Ty Lee caught Y/N’s eyes in the mirror and Y/N knew what she was going to do. 

“Unfortunately, there won’t be a show tomorrow.”

Azula widened her eyes in mock-surprise at Y/N. “Really?”

Ty Lee stood to hang her headband above the mirror. “The universe is giving me strong hints that it’s time for a career change. I want to join you on your mission.”

And that’s when it all clicked for Y/N. That net being set on fire and the animals being released wasn’t about killing Ty Lee. Sure, it would have killed her if she had fallen, but the real motive behind it all was worse. 

She could tell by the smirk on Azula’s face that she had gotten exactly what she wanted. Because during Ty Lee’s show, Azula was putting on her own. She was displaying the power she held over them. Telling them without so many words what would happen if they proved disloyal, or stepped out of line. She was in control. And suddenly, Y/N was very fearful of her friend; even as she allowed herself to be pulled into a hug. 

“Let’s go get Mai.” Azula tucked a stray hair behind Y/N’s ear and nodded at them to follow her out of the tent and back to the carriage. 

----

Azula made the carriage take them back to the ship that night. The mountain roads were too small for a carriage as large as theirs to carry them to Omashu, where Mai’s father governed and they needed to dock the ship at the city’s port. This time, Azula entered on a palanquin. Ty Lee and Y/N marched behind it as they entered the palace grounds. 

“Please tell me you’re here to kill me.” Mai bowed to Azula as they approached. She looked at Azula seriously, before smiling and laughing. 

“It’s good to see you too, Mai,” Azula confessed. 

Ty Lee rushed past both of them to hug Mai. When Y/N could tell that the hug had lasted long enough for Mai, she gently pulled Ty Lee off and replaced her. 

“I thought you ran off and joined the circus?” Mai asked Ty Lee. “You said it was your calling.”

Ty Lee smiled brightly. “Well, Azula called a little louder.” 

“And you–” Mai gripped Y/N’s bicep. “Swinging that stupid sword must be all you do. You’re built like a guard.” A comment like that coming from anyone else might have offended Y/N, but from Mai she knew what it really meant–you’re still in one piece. 

Mai was quick to join their team. Y/N knew from letters that Mai was bored with Omashu, and this was a perfect opportunity to get out from underneath her parents. 

“You guys came at the right time,” Mai said as they entered the palace. “My brother was kidnapped by the resistance last night.”

“Oh no!” Ty Lee gasped. 

“Why would they take Tom-Tom?” Y/N asked. There had to be a motive behind kidnapping a baby. Omashu might have been taken over by the Fire Nation but surely the people here wouldn’t resort to anything...murder-y just for their city back. He was just a baby! 

Mai looked back at her and Y/N noticed dark circles under her eyes she hadn’t seen before. She didn’t sleep at all last night knowing someone had her brother. “We don’t know.”

As she led the three of them to the throne room where Ukano and Michi were waiting, she caught them up on everything they needed to know. The room smelled like dust, clearly sitting unused since the governor took over the city. The three girls, as well as Mai’s parent’s knelt on pillows as Azula ascended to the throne. 

They all bowed before sitting up. Mai continued, “We’ve offered up an exchange; we sent a messenger hawk last night. We have Omashu’s King in the prison–Bumi.”

Azula turned to Ukano. “I’m so sorry to hear about your son. But really, what did you expect by just letting all the citizens leave?” She clasped her hands together and crossed her legs. Y/N noticed she didn’t look sorry at all; her face was cold, angry even. 

“Princess–” Ukano bowed his head respectfully. 

“My father has trusted you with this city, and you’re making a mess of things.” She stepped down from the throne and the girls all rose to meet her. “Mai will handle the hostage trade so you don’t have the chance to mess it up. And there is no more Omashu.” Azula growled. “I’m renaming it in honor of my father. The city of New Ozai!” She strode out of the room with all three of them on her heels. All three of them ignored the tears in Michi’s eyes.

They met on the landing of a construction project. Looking up, Y/N could see what it was. It was a giant statue of Ozai. It was mostly covered in scaffolding but Y/N still shuddered just looking at it. Though this Ozai was made of stone, the eyes were the same, cold and dead. Mai took the lead flanked to left with her and Azula, the right with Ty Lee. 

Even from a distance Y/N could tell that these weren’t members of any resistance. They were kids, probably her age, but maybe younger. Two were wearing Water Tribe blue–the boy in the middle though–was wearing yellow and orange. Y/N had never seen anyone wear those colors before. She could hear Azula hum thoughtfully next to her. 

A crane from above lowered the metal box that held former King Bumi. Y/N noticed he seemed rather chipper for being locked in a metal coffin with only his head sticking out. 

“You brought my brother?” Mai asked. Her low, raspy voice carried over the distance between them. 

“He’s here. We’re ready to trade,” The one in orange answered.

Azula turned to Mai. “I’m sorry, but a thought just occurred to me. Do you mind?”

Mai tensed. “Of course not, Princess Azula.”

“We’re trading a two-year-old for a king. A powerful, earthbending king. It just doesn’t seem like a fair trade, does it?”

Mai’s eyes narrowed, searching over every inch of Azula’s face. Her jaw tightened and slowly she turned to look back at the ‘resistance’ members. “You’re right. The deal’s off.”

Ty Lee and Y/N shared a look. What was Mai thinking? This was her brother. 

As King Bumi was once again lifted into the air, the boy in orange ran towards them, a swirling mass of dirt trailing him. Azula stepped out and threw a ball of fire at him. Or at least where he should have been. He jumped and then flew? high above them, floating on air currents with his staff that was now a glider. He was an airbender. 

“The Avatar!” Azula exclaimed. “My lucky day.” As Azula took off after the Avatar, Y/N ran to the Water Tribesmen, Ty Lee and Mai hot on her tail. She drew her sword and cut an ice dagger in half that the girl threw at her head. She ducked a rope of water and slipped past the waterbender, leaving Mai and Ty Lee to take care of her. Y/N was going to get Tom-Tom. 

The Watertribe boy was furiously blowing on a silent whistle and trying to wrangle the squirming baby in his arms. He turned and ran but tripped over a loose board and slid backwards to the edge. Y/N was nearly there, her fingers inches from grabbing the baby when something wet wrapped around her ankle like seaweed and pulled her hard in the opposite direction. She hit her chin on the wooden boards and lost her grip on her sword which skittered away helplessly over the edge and down to the ground. 

She kicked out but there was nothing for her foot to hit. The waterbender had grabbed her foot with a water rope to stop her and went back to fighting Mai and Ty Lee. She had her hands full with them, dodging chi blocks and blocking knives so she was protective of the boy–loyal to him. Her brother. Use it. A voice in Y/N’s head that sounded too much like Azula’s told her.

Y/N pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the sting of her chin and slid down the ladder just as the Water Tribe boy had done seconds earlier. 

He stood at the bottom looking to the air like he was waiting for something. He watched her come near but didn’t move. That’s when she saw her sword laying a few feet away. He saw her see it at the same time. 

They both rushed to it. Y/N grabbed the hilt but couldn’t pull away. He’d crossed his club over it holding the blade down.

 “Don’t.”

“Then I won’t.” She kicked his club away and pulled her blade back. They both backstepped giving each other space. She held her hand out to him. “ I just want the baby.” 

“Not a chance.” His bright blue eyes watched her every move. He shifted Tom-Tom on his hip.

“Please, it’s my friend’s brother. What would you do if this was your sister?”

“Don’t talk about her!” He shouted. But Y/N didn’t miss his eyes flicker to the platform. 

“I can talk to Princess Azula. I can tell her to make the deal. Bumi for Tom-Tom. Just trust me.”

“Trust you?” he echoed. Then he laughed. Y/N didn’t get to ask him what he was laughing about because she was suddenly hit with something large in the ribs and thrown under the scaffolding. She grunted as she sat up and crawled through the broken beams she was thrown through. In the sky was a flying bison.

“Damn it.” 

After climbing back up the ladder, Y/N and her friends met in the middle of the platform, Azula nowhere in sight. 

Y/N shook her head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get Tom-Tom.”

Mai massaged a bruised wrist and shrugged. 

“But why would Azula cancel the deal?” Ty Lee asked. “We want Tom-Tom back just as much as they wanted King Bumi!”

“Azula didn’t,” Mai spat. 

Y/N sighed. “Why’d you let her do it, Mai?”

“You know why.”

“It’s not fair.” Ty Lee slung an arm around Mai’s waist. Y/N mirrored her on the other side. They walked back to the palace in silence. Nothing needed to be said, they knew what one another were thinking. 

----

“We have a third target now,” Azula announced from inside the palanquin as they marched out of the city. “We’re going after the Avatar.” 

“Ooh, I’d like to see that cute Water Tribe boy again, wouldn’t you?” Ty Lee nudged Y/N in the ribs with her pointy elbow. Y/N smiled, he was pretty cute, she thought to herself. 

Her smile grew to a grin. “Yeah, but I bet Mai’s more excited to see Zuko.” Y/N poked Mai in the arm and watched the girl who tried her hardest not to show her emotions flushed a deep red. 

Ty Lee and Y/N fell into a fit of giggles. Y/N missed her friends.

Taglist: @reclusive-chicken-nugget​ , @myexgirlfriendisthemoon​ , @astroninaaa​

A/N: if you’re getting vibes that Azula likes Y/N more than a friend, you are right ;) AND HEY we finally meet the gaang!! Y/N thinks Sokka’s cute!! Sokka hates her Fire Nation guts!! 

Like & reblog!! ❤️If you would like to be added to the taglist please shoot me a message or ask! 

#sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #atla #a:tla #avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender #avatar #avatar resurgence #avatar fic #atla fic #aang #katara #ty lee #azula #mai #zuko #uncle iroh #sokka #atla sokka

[thesightstoshowyou]

Search and Rescue

Chapter 1

Featuring my Monster OC Kaith x F Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood and minor character death

Here’s something a little different! Let me know what you think <3

~~

            It is your scent that first draws him; floral, a hint of cinnamon, and the acrid tang of adrenaline. Silently leaping from tree to tree, he follows his nose. He tracks you to a small clearing encircled by a ring of trees.

           The light is dying quickly, the sun having just set behind the mountain. Though, he’d smelled you long before now, your scent blown to him on the chilly breeze susurrating through oaks and pines. Pacing, unable to leave the safety of his cave until the sun had fully set, he thought he might go mad.

             Your boots crunch on crisp foliage as you slowly shuffle about, shining a flashlight onto something on the ground. Light illuminates violent red splashed across an outcropping of rock. He can smell it; coppery, tangy with fear. It is blood from the other human that came this way a day before.

            Insatiably curious, he tilts his head to the side and leans over a branch to get a closer look at you. He has seen no humans for decades and now two in the span of two days. He forgot how good they could smell.

             Your hair is pulled back away from your face and tied at the base of your neck. The slowly rising moon gives your smooth skin a lovely sheen. He bets it tastes just how it looks: Soft and supple. He leans a little closer, interested in the way your clothing clings to your hips.

             An icy breeze rustles the trees, knocking more yellow and red leaves from its branches. You shiver, hiking the blue outer layer further up around your neck. You turn and he is able to read the blocky white letters on the back of the garment: Search and Rescue. Ah, so you search for the male that wandered through this clearing yesterday. Alas, your search will end in vain. You will find no further trace of the young man.

             “Team Five to Team One, over. I found...what looks like blood, over.” You speak into a black square attached to your coat. Crackling static is the response. You frown. This is apparently not the reply you wanted.

             “Team Five to Team One, can you hear me? Over.” More crackling, then silence. He hears your heart rate pick up, the frantic sound sending a shiver down his spine. Unable to resist, he intentionally cracks the branch under his clawed foot.

             Your heart stutters as your head snaps in his direction. You search the trees, pretty eyes wide and anxious. Suppressing a devious chuckle, he ducks behind the tree trunk just as you shine your flashlight in his direction.

             When you bite your lip and turn your attention back to the blood, he silently moves two trees over. You give an uneasy glance over your shoulder before starting for the trees. The direction you walk is the same the young man took yesterday. It is unwise for you to continue on that path.

             What does this human speak? The writing on your clothing is in English. With only the slightest second of hesitation, he speaks, “I would not go that way, if I were you.” You whirl around, eyes wide in fear, heart hammering.

            Perhaps he should have let you enter the trees. However, he enjoys the way the moonlight illuminates your skin and how your heart sounds pounding against your chest. He is not ready for his fun to end.  

             “W-Who’s there?” you ask, voice cracking. You have a firm hold on the knife at your belt.

             “A…friend,” he replies simply. His voice, deep and scratchy as it is, must be quite something to hear coming from the dark. You visibly tremble. Poor thing.

             You hone in on the direction of his voice. He moves again, further to your left before the beam of the flashlight falls on the empty branches. Only a few leaves are displaced, fluttering to the ground to join their brethren. You take a small, tentative step toward his tree.

             “Are…are you Matthew?” you ask in a tremulous voice. He guesses this is the name of the missing human. It is a silly thing to ask, but you must be desperately trying to rationalize the situation. Your ears must be playing tricks on you. This can’t be real. These are the thoughts he can almost hear.

             “No,” he replies with a rasping chuckle. You quickly twist in the direction of his voice, gasping breath tearing from your throat. He can see the exact moment you realize you are not dealing with anything remotely human. He had moved a great distance without making the slightest sound. Your pupils expand, your pulse flutters like a trapped bird, and the scent to adrenaline fills the clearing. You do not use the flashlight, surely terrified of what you will find. Delicious.

             An anxious thought strikes him then. He shifts, his own nerves prickling on the back of his feathered neck. The scent that oozes from your pores is strong and will carry on the chilly breeze. It will attract something that will not be good for either of you.

             You step back on quivering legs. You ask, rather bravely, “W-What…what are you?” He hums quietly at your question.

             “I am…me.” He isn’t sure how to answer your question because he himself does not know. He doesn’t remember parents or family. He just is.

             “Are you t-the one that did this?” you question slowly, pointing to the congealed blood splattered across the ground. You hold your breath, awaiting his answer. He lets the silence drag and stifles another chortle when you tense, your knuckles white around the flashlight.

             “No,” he finally responds before moving around to the tree directly behind you. You release the breath, but remain just as tense.

             “Um…do you know who…or w-what did?” Just as you ask the question, he catches the scent he has been dreading. It moves quickly through the trees toward you, toward him. He glances down at you, so unsuspecting, so vulnerable.

             He could save you, possibly, but that would put him at risk. The creature flying through the trees is stronger and faster than he could ever hope to be, but he possesses the ability to completely mask his scent. Perhaps he can hide you as well?  

             Yet, why is he even considering it? He had watched the young man perish yesterday without so much as batting an eye. Why are you any different?

             His body makes the decision for him. As fast as lightening, he bolts from the tree, snatches you off your feet, and leaps back up into the branches. He claps a clawed hand across your mouth to quiet your terrified scream while wrapping you in giant, feathered wings. He must pin your writhing body to his own and threaten you with a long claw at your throat so you will still and be silent.  

             Shushing you, he peers into the clearing. As if on cue, in stalks a hulking creature. It walks on four feet equipped with fearsome claws. A long tail whips back and forth as it sniffs the ground with a toothy snout. Muscles ripple under brick colored skin as it paces through the foliage.

             You have gone ramrod straight in his arms. You must hear the beast prowling around on the ground below you. Your heart hammers so loud. He hopes the creature will not hear it.

             The creature sniffs at the blood coating the ground, its handiwork. Then it lifts its bulky head to sniff the air. Little by little, it edges closer to the tree.

              He tenses, every muscle pulled taut, prepared to flee if necessary. He will have to leave you behind if he wishes to survive, which would be too bad. He enjoys your sweet scent and how your skin radiates warmth.  

             With a huff, the creature turns away and sniffs the air. He smells it too; musky body odor and cigarette smoke. Perhaps it is from the other humans whom you were trying to contact earlier, Team One. There will be no way to warn them. It is regrettable, but inevitable.

             As quick as it had come, the beast disappears back through the trees. After a full minute, he finally relaxes and removes his hand from your mouth. You tremble in his arms.

             Gingerly, he sets you on the branch and scoots away, folding his wings along his back. Cocking his head to the side, he waits for you to speak. His image must be a great shock to your poor little nerves.

             “Y-Y-You saved m-me,” you stammer after several seconds of wide-eyed scrutiny. With a trembling hand, you reach out to ghost your fingers across the giant bird skull that is his head. Realizing he is tangible and not a figment of your imagination, you snatch your hand away as though it has been burned.  

             “What is your name, little human?” he asks, leaning forward minutely. He resists the urge to brush away the strand of hair that has caught on your parted lips, lest he startle you and send you toppling backwards out of the tree. Your whispered name is barely audible, fear and awe constricting your throat.

             “I am called Kaith.” Unable to resist, Kaith scoots forward a fraction. He is drawn to the warmth and alluring scent of your skin. You grip the branch tighter but do not try to move for fear you will fall.

             “Kaith,” you repeat and his feathers bristle pleasantly at the sound of his name in your mouth. Then, he is struck with sudden inspiration.

             “I fear the creature may return. We must flee the area,” he lies. He wants to move you somewhere he can touch you without risk of you tumbling to your death.

             “But, my team…” you object, turning to look through the trees. Kaith shakes his head.

             “No time.” He reaches out and pulls you to his chest once more. With a rustling of feathers, he extends of his enormous black wings and leaps from the branch, gracefully landing on another tree further into the forest. You wrap your arms around his neck, gasping and burying your face in the feathers of his shoulder. From this new position, he can feel your pounding heart beat against his chest, something that makes his own heart flutter with excitement.

             Surely, you will provide hours of entertainment.  

#exophilia #monster oc #monster #monster x reader #kaith oc #search and rescue fic #my writing #original writing #my oc #exophilia writing #terato writing #reader insert #horror #horror writing

[takaraphoenix]

O, Q and U for the writer asks?

Thanks for playing :)

O. Outline - Do you outline your fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

Why not both?

Okay no but seriously, I usually have a vague outline. Like, Point A and Point Z. Occasionally, there's like Point F and Point Q that I already know I want to happen too. But usually I wing the points in between those and just let the story grow and take me to the next point. I never go in completely blind but I also abandoned the complete alphabet outline.

I used to do that, outline the entire fic, plan out what - in like one or two bullet points - was going to happen in each chapter. And it's been my downfall on more than one fanfiction. That's from back when I used to cut chapter counts. Because I completely lost the motivation. I already worked out what I wanted to happen months before I got to writing that chapter and the initial enthusiasm when first coming up with the plan lessened more and more the more time passed. In many cases, I was kind of... already over the story... by the time I reached a chapter that was still five to ten chapters from the intended ending, so I'd just... scrap parts that I had lost full motivation for, or combine them and shorten them.

I do need a skeleton outline to know what I want out of it. But by not planning each chapter out, I can usually preserve my enthusiasm to last much longer. That's why most of my stories nowadays turn out much longer - most my longer (meaning not the 5/7 chapter ones that were always intended "short" like that) multi-chapter fics have been 25 chapters in recent years, as compared to the 10/15 chapter long fics from back when I used to fully outline the entire story.

I give myself more freedom to dive into sub-plots and add little side-quests for character and relationship development that I might not have thought of in a more detailed outline and that would not have fit into said outline so I would not have written them in a fic with a more detailed outline.

Q. Quirks - Do you have any quirks as a writer?

I already answered two in an earlier ask, let's see if I can think of any more off the top of my head. I do know that I have a lot of quirks.

Does it count to say that I'm a dialogue oriented writer? I suppose that's a writer quirk, isn't it? I find too descriptive writing quite boring, it loses my attention (because I have the attention-span of a goldfish), I try to let dialogue carry a lot of my fics because of that.

U. Undo - If you could go back and change a fic, be it a twist, or an ending, which one would it be?

There is probably a hundred fics where I'd, from today's standpoint, change things. Honestly, probably the side-pairing choices in Part Of Your World? They are like carbon-dating this fic, Leo/Piper and Nico/Annabeth were absolute post Lost Hero and Mark of Athena ships that I had. Ya know, back before Nico came out as gay and from all canon gave us he might have had a crush on Annabeth so I figured "ah, the two hearts Percy broke, coming together. kinda poetic" and Leo/Piper too was a huge pre-MoA ship, before we got to see more of Piper and Annabeth together, and Leo with Frank and Hazel. If I could just snap my fingers and change something, it'd probably be making this Nico/Jason, Frank/Hazel/Leo and Reyna/Piper/Annabeth instead.

But that's only the most spontaneous answer. I do think there are a ton of fics that make me cringe one way or another where I think "gee what the fuck was I thinking there I wish that was different".

Fanfic Ask Game

#Fanfic Ask Game #send me asks #Fic: Part Of Your World

[zhonglishrine]

Can i have a oneshot for gogol comforting his crying s/o?

Pairing: Nikolai Gogol x Reader Word Counts: 2.3k Note: Hello anon! Please forgive me for taking a long time to do your request! Since it was the first request on my blog, I thought I wanted to make it special. But I was stuck with writer’s block. So I used my old work before and re-edit it instead so it will be slightly different to match with the request! I’m sorry and I hope you will enjoy it and special big thanks to @soukokuwu​ for helping me proofread this one! Really, thank you so muchhhh <3!!!

It was empty.

In this dark cold continent, there was nothing but void and darkness inside. You either existed or your mind was playing a trick on you. It felt like a grand illusion - that nothing was real. What you were searching for was not there. Nothing you did would ever make you feel complete in any sense. There was always this feeling that haunted you, always reminding you of how miserable and disgusting you were. Gnawed and woven to your very soul like wild ivy tendrils wrapping around your empty heart and kept whispering down to the deepest recesses of your mind.

You were a monster.

You were a demon.

You were a human with no heart.

You were no different than a dead soul.

Then, why were you still alive?

For what purpose were you even here?

You shut your eyes tightly. You wanted to scream and block every deafening sound that suffocated you in this insufferable world. It exacerbated and tightened in your chest the more you struggled. Had it not been your sanity that kept you sane, you would already be consumed by madness. But would it be better if you just let yourself loose? Let it take over and become nothing but a shell of a living monster? Would it be better just to let what remains of you and burn it into a fire of anguish and let it turn to ash? Let it destroy you with the spite and hatred you harbor towards everything?

You were desperate to reach for something.

Anything.

And that was when he came along, when you were at a loss, as though he knew.

"Would you like to join the Decay of Angels?" He had said, with eyes as vacant as yours, but his hypnotizing violet eyes beneath that moonlight was much deeper and darker. It feels like you would lose yourself and drown in it if you were to stare any longer. Yet without exchanging any further words, he seemed to understand the unspoken pain that has festered through your being at that very moment. You looked exactly like a lost child that desperately needed guidance, that needed to cling onto something.

"...What will I get if I join you?"

"You will be free. From your sins."

That was what he had offered. His soothing, saintly voice was like a remedy that could mend your broken soul that needed salvation, which had been beyond redemption at that point. You had nothing to lose and thus accepted his invitation back then, with a little hope thinking something might change. But after so many years, it still remained the same. You were still the same old you. No matter how much you wanted to pretend, you could never fake a smile and pretend to be happy. It felt like it would be hypocritical- like it would only make you lose sight of yourself even more.

Then, what is it that you were searching for, actually?

Why were you still here?

A soft sigh escaped your chapped lips as you stared long at the night sky above. The stars twinkled, a million light-years away from the orbit. Yet you still reached out your hand, as if attempting to pick one and keep it in your pocket in a futile endeavor.

"A beautiful night, isn't it?" a familiar voice chirped, interrupting your time alone. You were never one that liked the companionship of others, but even so, no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, he'd just pester you even more and pop out randomly, much to your distaste. He was the last member of the Decay of Angels that you would want to interact with.

"Why are you here?"

"Aww, don't be so cold with me~! I merely passed by and just wanted to say hello to you~" Gogol winked and gave you a finger gun, as though his intentions weren't obvious.

"Bother someone else."

"Ah, are you upset that I'm not Dos?" He smirked as he guessed that.

You felt that he could easily read right through you and you didn’t like it - the feeling of being exposed. Fyodor was a man of mystery, a puzzle that you couldn't solve. You thought of him as someone who understood you and despite the terror associated with his name, he was still someone that you respected profoundly. Not out of fear, but maybe, admiration. But you hated that Gogol was right. You wished you were talking to Fyodor instead of the clown, and Gogol had gotten it right on the nose. And yet here you two were, with different circumstances that bring you two to join the association, even with different goals.

"Shut up. Just leave me alone, will you?"

"Aw... but no one wants to play with me. Even Sigma is busy. But you have been doing nothing but stargazing~ Don't you get tired doing that every night? If it were me, I'd die of boredom!" He flailed his arms in an attempt to get your attention. You cursed under your breath. This clown was too energetic for you to handle.

"None of your business what I do." You replied back to him crudely. But he took a seat beside you anyway, sitting by the edge of the building and swinging his legs back and forth with those comical pointy shoes of his. For someone his age, he acted rather childishly. Though, maybe that's just one of his antics as a clown. But he was the epitome of someone you could never understand. Since you can ever be two-faced like he is.

Gogol hummed. "You always come here, why is that?"

"I told you; it's none of your business."

"Aw. Here I thought that we were friends~" Gogol made it sound like he was hurt by your words.

You ruefully snorted at that, "Funny hearing that coming from you." Did he think you were that naive? Naive enough to think that you two were friends in this organization that was solely established with terrorists that can backstab you at any given moment?

"Is it not right? You've been with us for years, yet you seem so distant. Just like the stars." He remarked while spreading out his left arm to the sky.

"Is that so?" You looked up at it again, attempting to count the innumerable stars, albeit knowing how futile it was.

"Say... why did you join the Decay of Angels?" You posed the question to him, though you weren’t really curious. You just needed something to fill the awkward silence.

"Why, indeed. If I must answer that, why don't you tell me your reason first?"

Reason. You were still unsure about it yet. Why? You had killed so many just for that answer alone but the book that was your mind still drew a blank. Nothing was written on it yet. Was it because you were drawn to Fyodor's words at that time? Had he lured you in with nothing but empty promises?

"Perhaps… I was searching for the meaning of my existence." You curtly answered, but your mind still pondered on it.

"Then, have you found it?" Gogol asked, evincing interest to know as he turned to look at you sideways. There was something between you, something that somehow made you feel connected to him. Both of you were pawns that would soon be disposed of once you have served your purpose. It didn’t scare you, though. You would do what you had to, even if that meant dying in the end. The only thing you were scared of is regret - of not finding what you were searching for in the first place.

"...I don't know. Maybe not yet. Maybe I never will." You said, feigning nonchalance. "Then, what about you?" Now it was your turn to look into his molten gold eye, the one scarred with a vertical cut. Was there a story behind it? You wonder inwardly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask Gogol about it. In the Decay of Angels, every member came from a different background and it was unknown what they did before. If you asked him he might tell, either in a jesting manner or make it overly complicated, like another riddle you had to solve.

"I search for my freedom. Just like a bird that soars the skies without being bound by anything," he replied with a wistful tone and his expression softened, "I am seeking for a perfect freedom, like that."

"Freedom, huh..." You repeated, "you're one strange guy." Indeed, he was. Nikolai Gogol was an enigma himself, just as Fyodor was. As though he was standing between the bridge of psychosis and rationality that he wants to get rid of. You failed at understanding his essence, but you could empathize with his pursuit.

"Funny hearing that coming from you~" He retorted with your earlier words. "But birds and stars, are they not so different?"

"How so? They are two different entities, to start with."

"Because both are up far in the sky, seemingly unreachable for a mortal like us. Even so, we still gaze at them longingly, wishing upon the star, wishing to fly, wishing to escape from this warm, wet hell."

You couldn’t refute that. Technically, he wasn’t wrong.

"Then, have you found it?"

Gogol looked at you again, his eye reflecting every little light in the world that you see. He softened his countenance as if he actually understood what lay within your heart that you tried to conceal.

"Maybe I do. Now that I met you."

Within the span of a second that felt like an eternity, your heart thumped loudly in your ribcage, like he took your breath away at that moment with his gaze alone.

No...

Don't fall for it.

Don't fall for it again.

It would be the same. He would just be like the others. He too, would leave once he saw what was inside - that which was hiding and cloaking you in the darkness, that which enshrouded and imprisoned you inside.

And just like he said, you were exactly like the stars.

You were in front of him, and yet you felt so distant and too far away to reach.

"...It's nice talking to you. But I must take my leave now..." You wanted to withdraw yourself before you started to harbor hope and belief in someone again. Before you fell for it again, only to be tripped afterward. Only to be deceived, left broken, and uncared for years.

But he held you back by your wrist.

"Won't you stay a little while longer, my dove? A star will one day perish, and I would feel so lonely if you are truly gone." His voice somehow pulls the strings of your heart. But you know better than to fall for him.

"Wouldn't it be better? You don't know who I am..." You tried to break free, yet he was stubborn, he didn’t want to let you go. "I am not what you think I am... I'm just another monster who has no heart. You shouldn't get close to me..." Your eyes were already starting to well up with hot tears. The stinging pain in your chest throbbed, each passing second with him made you feel suffocated, as though causing you to drown in your own misery. Inevitable it was that you would bring him down with you as well.

"...Or else, you would destroy yourself too," you warned him,

"You’re either human or you are not, either you are a monster with no heart or not, what difference does it make?" He questioned you back, "Be whatever you want to be. It's your freedom, it’s your life, it’s your call."

"It's easy for you to say that... I'm not like you."

"Then tell me, what do you wish for every time you look at the stars? Have you no will for yourself? Have you not wished to break free from your cage as well?"

"I..." Stumped with his questions, you gazed into his eye once again, tears blurring your vision. Everything that was pent up inside you until this moment felt like it was crumbling, disintegrating into dust. Like waves crashing against the sand, such brittle was your resolution now when faced with his raw, naked, and pure emotions when he took off his clown mask.

"I want to... I just want to escape from this place... from my demons..." You said with a trembling, shaky voice, all the remaining strength in you threatening to leave the more you looked into his eyes. What kind of pain does he hide behind them? Why did it hurt you as much as well? As ironic as it sounded, in this moment, he looked more human than you were.

"Then, I will be the one that frees you from it now, my dove. Go, fly to the stars as you wish." He said and held you near, and contrary to his words that coached you to be free, he actually looked like he never wanted to let you go, yet you felt strangely safe and found warmth in his arms. You felt like you were finally being liberated from that which imprisoned you in that bottomless darkness. Even if what you see is just a glimpse of light. Then, that should be enough rather than nothing at all.

"You are beautiful when you soar free that way."

Two humans. Two monsters. Two beating broken hearts.

Under that starry night that illuminated the sky with constellations, it's like your fate entwined and mirrored each other on how almost tragically similar it was, with the demons that were trapped inside the both of you, seeking solace in each other's existence to remind you that you two were still human beings that just wished to be free.

#nikolai gogol x reader #gogol x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd #nikolai gogol #finally i post something after so long haha xD #curse me and my procrastination #orz #i work on other requests so slow too #please pardon me and gimme time ;w;

[sailtoafarawayland]

The Things We Don’t Say - Ch 2 (modern AU - actors)

Summary:  No one is perfect, and sometimes, two people are just so perfectly flawed that those pieces fit together and make something beautiful. When sparks fly between two leads of a new hit show, is there a happy ending in sight, or will their own mistakes overshadow any chance they had at something worth fighting for.

Rated: Explicit    

Warnings:   This is a joyfully Captain Swan story, but there are a few warnings. It does start with Emma/Neal and Killian/Milah. I don't write non-CS, so there won't be any sexual anything happening 'on screen', so to speak, between those couples, but I won't guarantee there may not be a mention. This story contains numerous episodes of cheating. If any of these things make you squick or are not your bag, carry on.

AO3 - FF

- or read below the cut -

As always, let me know if you’d like to be tagged (or removed) for further updates.

Tag list: @xarandomdreamx @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @teamhook @tiganasummertree @pirateprincessofpizza @lfh1226-linda @kmomof4​ 

Chapter Two

Killian sighed into the hard press of his fingers against his tired eyes, listening to the soft hum of the elevator as it climbed to his floor. He’d look like a drunken raccoon by the time he got into the apartment, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. An early morning shoot that had dragged late into the day left him feeling more dead than alive, and he hadn’t bothered with his normal clean up on set. The time saved getting back to his bed was the bright side—the downside was a few fans had recognized him when he jumped out of his uber, his trademark eyeliner and messily styled hair a giveaway. He’d managed a few weak smiles as they snapped pictures and hurried on his way, taking a few strange turns and slipping a spare beanie he kept in his pocket over his head. That, a popped collar, and hunched shoulders normally did the trick. Being famous certainly had its perks, but crazed fans knowing where he lived certainly wasn’t one of them.

It was usually simpler to drive to set, but lately he’d been to worn out to trust himself behind the wheel. The past two weeks had been a nightmare of last minute reshoots and publicity, and he couldn’t wait for it to all be over.

The elevator doors slid open, Killian staring at them for a moment before he realized her was staring at the familiar artwork that spanned the hall outside his condo. Desperately trying to blink away sleep, he trudged down the hall, leaning his forehead against the cool metal door for a brief second before unlocking it and heading in.  

God, he hoped Milah was content to have a quiet night in.

Everything was blessedly dark and quiet when he stepped into the entryway, shrugging his leather jacket off and hanging it on the waiting hook, his boots next as he eased them off his aching feet and lined them up neatly below the jacket. He rolled his neck and stretched, wrinkling his nose as he realized a fifteen-hour day filming had left him less than fresh.

A hot shower and bed—that was the plan. With any luck, and the darkened apartment seemed to be on his side, Milah would already be stretched beneath the covers and he could slip in behind her and fall asleep pressed to her warmth. It would be the perfect start to a weekend otherwise free of engagements and obligations.

“Milah?” he whispered, not wanting to startle her if she was relaxing in the living area.

There was always the chance she’d gone out with friends earlier and wouldn’t be home until late. It was a Friday, after all.

His back ached as he stretched his shirt over his head, balling it up and launching it toward the hamper as he walked into the bedroom. A glaring light greeted him from around the corner and he realized that Milah was indeed home, but not where he’d hoped. It looked as if a tornado had blown through the walk-in closet—every pair of heels she owned were tossed onto the floor and the chaise was covered with a haphazard pile of glittering dresses. Milah was standing in front of the mirrored wall, a sequined, black strapless number pulled over her body but left unzipped as she adjusted a pair of large earrings, her brow furrowed.

“Oh, thank god your home,” she huffed, flashing an annoyed smile over her shoulder as she slid her second earring in. “This zipper is absolutely impossible.”

He smiled and stepped into the closet, taking care to avoid the dresses that had sloughed onto the carpeting.

“I’m happy to help, darling,” he assured, catching the nearly invisibly zipper and easing it up her back. There were certainly nights he would have coaxed her into agreement that off was the far better option, but tonight he was more than happy to get her dressed and out the door if that was what she so desired. “Headed anywhere special?”

“It’s that opening of the new club—you know, the one with the glass ceiling that everyone has been going on about. I mentioned it the other night—good lord, Killian, you positively reek.”

Killian flashed a tired smile in the mirror, but her frown only deepened.

“Honestly, Killian, you can’t go out like that. You’ll need to have a quick shower.”

Killian’s brows echoed her own displeasure as he realized what she was implying.

“Did you want my company, as well?”

“Do you even listen when I speak? Sometimes I wonder. I told you two nights ago that Lara and William were expecting us. They’ve barely seen you.”

Killian couldn’t remember a Lara, but he seemed to recall a bright, friendly man with reddish-blond hair who may have been a William. No matter who they were, he had no interest in spending the evening with them, and even less in spending the evening on his feet in an obnoxious club.

“It’s been a long day, Milah—every day for the past couple weeks has, and I’m exhausted—”

“You’re absolutely right, Killian, it has been a long day, a long few weeks, and I’m sorry that I thought I might get to spend some time with you at the end of all of it. How foolish of me,” she snapped, and Killian felt the words like a slap to his face.

“No, you’re right. It’s—I’m sorry. I’ll have a quick rinse and get dressed.”

Milah beamed at him, adjusting her hair and checking that everything was just as she wanted it to be in the mirror. Killian pressed a soft kiss to her bare shoulder, the warmth of her smile washing away a bit of his exhaustion.

He wanted her to be happy, and perhaps the past few weeks had been more difficult for her than she let on.

“It will be a lovely night, I promise,” she said, shoving him gently toward the bathroom as she turned to reappraise the pile of heels.

* * * 

Despite Milah’s initial enthusiasm that he’d agreed to join her and two people he most definitely did not remember—apparently William had brown hair and was quite pretentious—it was not a lovely night. The hot shower and the warmth of Milah’s arm in his had been enough to fool him into think it might be the tiniest bit enjoyable—after all, it had been some time since he’d been to a club—but he’d been wrong, very wrong.

Everything from the moving lights to the music to the stench of hot bodies pressed against one another was giving him a pounding headache, and he slid down further into his chair, nursing a rum and casting about for Milah, wherever she’d gone. He’d wanted to give her a nice evening at his side, but he hadn’t been able to find it in him to join her on the dance floor—probably because his feet had blisters from filming in his costume boots all day—and she hadn’t been able to find it in her to forgive him.

He’d been able to keep track of her at first, but soon she was lost in the crush of bodies and he was lost in his rum—at least it helped dull the sounds a bit.

He didn’t know if it was the insane schedule he was booked to finish shooting for his latest movie, or just the lack of free time, but nothing felt quite right lately, and he was worried a change was needed. Milah was clearly unhappy with his schedule, with how much distance it put between them. He found himself wondering if perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad time to step back a bit, to get away and really dedicate some time to the two of them.

It was a question he’d come back to more than once in the past few months, and as much as he wanted to feel that doing so was the right answer, his gut kept telling him it wasn’t.

He loved her, he certainly didn’t want her to be miserable, but the thought of missing out on opportunities at the high point of his career, it did worry him. Liam had worked more than any person should have to help put him through school, and he’d only ever wanted happiness for his little brother. Liam was a big enough man to know that for Killian that meant acting, even if it was a hard path. If Killian were to step back now, would that be doing justice to his brother’s sacrifice. What if he started turning down offers and never bounced back from it?

He searched the dance floor once more, but there was no sign of his Milah. Knowing she was probably hurt enough to ignore him for the rest of the night, he whipped out his phone and started scrolling through emails, most of them simply things his manager had already spoken with him about over the phone. It wasn’t until he scrolled farther back, nearly hypnotized by the small boxes flying along the screen, that a flagged email came to his attention and he stopped. The details were familiar, and he only just remembered the conversation he’d had with Cora.

It had been an offer for the lead role in a new series, but he’d turned it down due to the filming location. He’d been worried about having to uproot Milah, but scanning through everything once more, he found himself second-guessing his first decision. Perhaps it would be the answer they needed, and the more he thought about it, the more it appealed to him personally.

Maine was certainly quiet and would allow for more quality time together—and the pay was bloody obscene, which never hurt. According to Cora, the role had been written specifically for him. He wondered how the showrunners had taken it when he declined.

His finger hovered over reply.

He should probably discuss it will Milah first, but then thoughts of Liam tugged at his tired mind and he reread the arc for the lead role, each sentence making him more inclined to see if taking it on was still a possibility.

He’d earned his name and place in Hollywood by becoming the face of playboys and scoundrels, all of his characters well-known for their rakish appeal, but to be honest, he was starting to become concerned he may not be offered anything more diverse if he didn’t branch out soon. This role—this would be something different, something Liam would be proud of. The series treaded water somewhere between a fantasy show and a piece that examined the very fabric of what is real, the main character a man who suffered great personal tragedy and loss only to have his independence and health rocked.

The more Killian looked at it, the more he knew it was for him, the words swimming with possibility...or rum. He didn't know what about his previous roles had drawn the showrunners to him of all their choices, but for the first time in a while, he really wanted something.

He really wanted this.

A feeling of certainty settled in his gut and he shot off a reply to Cora.

K: I want this, do what you need to do.

The message sent and he almost expected to look up and see Milah hovering over him, a flushed smile on her cheeks from dancing, her hair falling in tendrils around her face, but his table is still empty and the dance floor is still a writhing mass of faceless people.

Raising his glass in a lonely toast, he took another drag of rum and closed his eyes.

He wants to dream that she’ll be as happy as he is, that’s all he wants for her.

#Captain Swan #cs fanfic #cs ff #emma and hook #sailtoafarawayland #the things we don't say #modern au

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #6

A/N: If anyone’s interested, the perfume Lizzie is wearing is one of my all-time favourites, Aqua di Gioia by Giorgio Armani. It’s really poorly described here because my olfactory recognition doesn’t go beyond ‘good’ and ‘bad’, but well. It’s divine though. Also, bear with me if sth astrological is wrong, this stuff is complicated! Katriona Cassiopeia (aka KC) belongs to my lovely friend @kc-needs-coffee

  Word Count: ~ 2.100

______________________________________________________________ 

Chapter 6: A New Perspective

As it turned out, Orion’s decision to name Everett Hufflepuff’s new Beater had been the right one. He still had a way to go, but he immediately fell in line with the rest of the team. What he lacked in precision, he made up in strength.

Orion had taking his individual training on himself. As the team’s captain, he saw it as his personal responsibility to ensure every one of his teammates was able to reach his full potential. Everett was a fast learner, but it would take him a few more sessions to even be remotely able to hold a candle to the Ravenclaw Beaters.

Rath and Cassiopeia had been a well attuned team for many years now, both as skilled a Beater as they came. They would need any protection against them they could get, and the match against Ravenclaw was approaching fast.

Although Orion wasn’t the type of person to let his mind be clouded by worries, he had to admit he wasn’t entirely sure they could get Everett into proper form in time. He had been voicing his concerns to Lizzie the other day, during one of their tutoring sessions. If anyone knew what it took to become a Beater in a short amount of time it was her.

Lately, Orion had found himself looking forward to their meetings in the greenhouse, despite his already tightly packed schedule. It was refreshing to discuss their team matters with someone that didn’t flood him with a multitude of statistics for a change. Lizzie had a different approach to things than him, but they weren’t polar opposites like he and Skye. Exchanging views with her had provided him with a new impulse more than once.

In fact, he had come to enjoy her presence in general, even more so than before. They had always been friends but his knowledge about her had pretty much begun and ended at the Quidditch pitch. Seeing her outside team meetings and practise had allowed him to get to know other sides of her. He’d had no idea Lizzie had been part of the duelling club until last year. Or that Arithmancy was one of her favourite subjects. Or that she used a perfume smelling distinctively of jasmine and mint.

Orion had a harder time bonding with her friend Rowan. He hadn’t had any points of contact with her before he had started tutoring them. Now, several weeks later, he still knew hardly anything about her. She seemed to be exceptionally smart, but also equally as shy. Most of the time she would consult her textbook about the plants he tried to teach them about, while Lizzie paid it no mind, listening to his explanations instead.

Orion couldn’t help his impression that Rowan was struggling with his unconventional style of teaching. He didn’t refer to books more than he had to, rather letting his instinct and experience guide him.

Having trained with him for years, Lizzie knew his way of conveying knowledge was not always straightforward. Rowan, however, had a hard time letting go of protocol. She was clinging to the academic theory as if her life depended on it. Following the rules could help with a lot of problems, but she would never master the delicate nuances advanced Herbology had to offer, if she wasn’t willing to tread paths unknown to her.

“And what exactly is the difference between dried foxglove petals and desiccated foxglove petals?”

McNully snapped him out of his thoughts and back to where they were sitting in the Great Hall. It was study time and most of the students were gathered at their House tables, brooding over their homework.

They had been discussing their latest Potions essay, covering the effects sourcing methods had on the quality of ingredients.

“That is what we are supposed to illustrate, I believe.” Orion dipped his quill into the ink bottle they were sharing and tried to pick up where his wandering thoughts had let him off. His eyes wandered casually across the other Hufflepuff students lining their table.

It lingered where Skye and Lizzie were sitting. Lizzie was rapidly flicking through the pages of her textbook with a puzzled expression. Skye was talking insistently at her, looking equally as bewildered.

Several heads shot up as Lizzie audibly slammed her book shut and clambered off the bench. When Skye made no move to follow her, she jerked the other girl up off her seat and motioned with her head towards where he and McNully were sat.

They quietly walked towards the head of the Hufflepuff table. Seeing them approach, McNully reached for his wheelchair that was blocking the way. He moved it aside to allow the girls to join them. Orion smiled.

“What can we help you with?”

Wordlessly, Lizzie held up her copy of Unfogging the Future and slid into a seat between Murphy and him. She reopened the page she had been examining before and gave a frustrated sigh.

“I cannot tell you how much I hate Divination, I really can’t. You’re good at this, aren’t you?”

Orion supressed a smile. “So I am told. What bothers you in particular?”

“It’s those bloody birthstones,” Skye explained. “No matter how often we go over it, Lizzie and I always come to different results and we can’t find the mistake.”

They handed him their notes and Orion quickly gave them a check before returning them.

“That is because both choices are correct. There is more than one birthstone for each of the zodiac signs. You both chose the right stone for the right sign, but in different parts of the time span covered.”

Skye groaned in frustration, earning her a chiding glance from Professor Flitwick, who was supervising them today. “What do you mean, more than one? Why can’t this stuff be straightforward for once?”

“Everyone is different and such is reflected in the stones fortifying our inner strengths. Why should there be so little birthstones when there are so many traits to represent?”

Both girls looked at him with blank expressions.

Patiently, he flipped the pages to one of the star charts at the back of the book. “The astrological year is divided into the twelve zodiac signs. Each zodiac sign is subdivided into three decades, meaning a set of ten days. There are additional factors to consider, but simply put, there are three birthstones for each sign, representing one decade each. That is why you come to different conclusions, you didn’t factor in the time of the month.”

He contemplated telling them about the stones meant to counteract each signs weaknesses. But seeing Skye pinching the bridge of her nose, while was Lizzie trying to process what he had just said, muttering “I hate Divination” under her breath, he decided against it. Better not too much at once.

“How do you know all this nonsense?” Skye was shaking her head in disbelief.

“I know all this because it is explained in the introduction of the chapter you two apparently weren’t reading too diligently.” He turned the pages back to the beginning and pointed at the paragraph on the first page.

Lizzie’ cheeks flushed a bright read as she quickly scanned the text. “I can’t believe I overlooked this.” Embarrassed, she quickly snatched the book out of Orion’s hands and got up. “Thanks for helping anyway.”

They made their way back to their places, the scent of jasmine and mint lingering behind. Orion was always glad if he could help a friend. A few seats down the table, Lizzie was discussing what he had just told them with Skye. He thought back on what Penny and Murphy had said on the train ride to Hogwarts a few weeks earlier.

Lizzie really had changed a lot. She seemed to be standing taller, an air of effortless confidence around her. The blush on her cheeks had made her look really pretty, reminding him of how the rush of the wind brought the colour to her face when she was flying. She was moving differently as well, more graceful and fluently, her hips swaying ever so slightly with every step she took. He had never noticed her hips swaying like that before.

McNully nudged his shoulder. “Uhm, Orion… if you don’t want to rewrite your whole essay, I’d move my quill if I was you.”

He snapped out of it and looked down at his parchment. The ink was dripping from the tip of his quill, forming a large black puddle at the end of his last sentence that was quickly spreading onto the rest of his half-finished essay.

Orion cursed under his breath, immediately drawing his wand to vanish the excess ink. Fortunately not too much of his work was ruined.

McNully raised his eyebrows. “Such a strong language, my friend. I have only heard you curse three times, so far. One time was when you crashed your broom into the commentary box and broke your wrist, the second time when you forgot the time while broom balancing and almost missed your Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. exam and the third time when you burned yourself on your cauldron and spilled Wiggenweld Potion all over Professor Snape. This reaction is 87,9 % surprising.”

He felt the heat creeping up his neck. McNully was right, he wasn’t easily enticed to displaying his emotions verbally. He hadn’t meant to let himself slip like that.

Choosing not to answer his curious friend, he committed himself to restoring the missing part of his essay. But McNully wouldn’t let it pass like that.

He was nodding in the direction of Lizzie. “I wonder if she knows how much attention she is attracting.”

Orion gripped his quill a little tighter, concentrating on finishing his sentence. He fought the urge to follow McNully’s gaze.

“Our friend has a captivating personality, for sure. But would you mind lifting the veil of ignorance from my eyes and tell me how you reached such a conclusion?”

For a moment, McNully smirked knowingly before he directed Orion’s attention over to where their roommates were sitting. He could easily make out what McNully had been referring to. Everett was eyeing the girls up without even trying to conceal it.

“Him, of course. He’s been checking Lizzie out ever since she came over to us.” He smiled innocently at him. “Why, who did you think I was talking about?”

Orion’s brow furrowed in concern. He didn’t like the predatory look on Everett’s face. This guy had somewhat of a reputation.

“Yeah, I don’t like the looks he’s giving her either,” McNully echoed his unspoken thoughts with a scowl. He leaned closer to him, putting his elbow on Orion’s shoulder in conspiratorial way. “I think we should do something about it, don’t you? And by ‘we’, I obviously mean ‘you’.”

Shaking off McNully’s hand, Orion gave him a disapproving look. “And why would I do that? He is our new Beater if you don’t recall.”

“For the sake of the team, of course!”

McNully started reciting his calculations. “I’d put the chance of him going for our little Chaser prodigy at roughly 80 %. There are some variables unaccounted for, but I’d say the chances of Lizzie falling for him lie at something around 54 %. Which would affect the team’s dynamic gravely. And we can’t have that decreasing our- I mean, your odds on winning the Quidditch Cup.”

Orion blew onto his parchment until the ink had properly dried. “You talk as if he was actually hitting her up. All he did was looking at her.”

And there was certainly nothing wrong with looking.

“Lizzie can fend for herself if need be. Besides, who am I to interfere with the course the heart is deciding to take.”

McNully looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “Mate… I don’t think the heart has much to with it if you get my drift. Seriously, do something.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” He stood up and handed Professor Flitwick his work of the day.

McNully raised one eyebrow at him. “And what would that be?”

Orion gathered his strewn books and notes. “Finding balance inside and outside of my mind, my dear friend. See you at dinner.”

#art of balance #lizzie jameson #orion amari #orion x mc #orion amari x mc #hphm #hogwarts mystery #skye parkin #murphy mcnully #quidditch #quidditch squad #the quidditch squad

[thefracturedmosaic]

Finality

mentions: @divergent-lines @neiablackwood @savianblackwood

Beggars and Priest

“Hm, the druid that was attacked?” The old man scoffed. “First you come in asking for a friend, now you're asking about the elf that everyone wants to know about?” He waved Madivh off. “Go somewhere else bud, I’m done answering questions. If you aren’t staying, I’m not interested.” 

What a tough old man. Madivh grumbled to himself as he made his way towards the large gates of the city. They seemed whiter and more intimidating than he last remembered, and the forest outside seemed darker and clustered tightly together. He was certain the forest had been more open and inviting years before.

How am I going to find a druid in a forest? I don’t know how nature magic works and what if he’s turned himself into a bird, or a deer? 

He stepped beyond the city outskirts. Already the smell of the ocean’s breeze seemed like a distant memory. In its place heavy soil and soft smells graced him. 

Dammit, if I only had a necklace and a raven, I could maybe use them to scout---

He slowed to an immediate stop. Bird? Why didn’t Nairus just fly off? Why did he walk out of the Cathedral, and then walk out of the city towards the forest? 

The answers to those questions weren’t important, but the revelation of the questions themselves was. Madivh spun on his heels. If Nairus wasn’t using his druid forms to move about, then, he would have to walk back through those gates. If he sat and waited with a good vantage point, Nairus would eventually come back. 

Joy was an understatement of what he was truly feeling. 

There was a chance Nairus wasn’t planning to come back, and if that was the case, then it was pointless even looking in Elwynn. There was no way Madivh would be able to find and track down a druid in its own home. Pointless some would say. He had a better chance finding leads in Stormwind about Mey then tracking down Nairus and asking him if he seen her. 

I give it a week. If he doesn’t walk through those gates in a week, I’ll look somewhere else. 

Thus, Madivh sat himself on the far edge of the outer walls of Stormwind. He watched the road as time passed. His attention focused on people’s garb, their height, and their race. Elves weren’t as commonplace as he thought they might be compared to all the different races he actually seen walking through the gates and out of them. If there were no obvious elves, Madivh let his attention drift elsewhere. When there were, he looked for green hair, and if they did, looked to see if they were druids. 

He was equally surprised to see that not many druids walked through the gates, but there had been plenty that had flown over. 

The roads and skies weren’t always busy though. During those quiet times, he practiced his magic control. Madivh used the natural shade of the trees, rocks, and the stone wall to focus the shadows to shift and come in closer around him. Basic, easy lessons he had learned as a kid, self-taught as he was, it came naturally. The magic obeyed, but the body rejected the magic. The shadows burned, or tickled, or provided some sort of discomfort. 

He lasted only a short hour the first day of messing with the magic. The rest of his time, he spent messing with the dagger and seeing how much muscle memory was actually in this body versus what he actually wanted. 

The second day was much like the first. Though, he came earlier than the day before and for the first several hours before noon he was welcomed to the sight of different faces. There were men coming back to the city for lunch covered in soot or dirt, the guardsman switched out shortly after noon for fresh faces, and there had been countless merchants that had walked by. Adding to the list, there was a group of patrol men who entered and left the city within a span of three hours, and about six different groups of mercenaries and adventurers departing. As the sun began to set, Madivh watched the same merchants leave with empty wagons, new merchants with wagons full, and the mercenaries returning with gloomy expressions on their faces and one less head to count for.

Sometime during that day, Madivh had let his mind wander about himself, or more precisely, who the body he was living in was. Who had been the man Jacorek had kidnapped, or had he been dead beforehand and Jacorek had simply looted the corpse? He hoped for the latter. A dead man walking was easier to explain as a coincidence of look-a-likes then if the man was considered missing and family was seeking him. 

Maybe the man was a wanted criminal and perhaps he should look into the matter in case someone came knocking with an arrest warrant. 

On the third day, Madivh had finally grasped his own magic long enough that he was able to cover himself in shadows for a solid minute before the control weakened and vanished. He grumbled to himself about how he could have held such magic for days, and had, for almost twenty-four hours once. He was strangely back to ground zero. The frustration showed itself as he practiced throwing his dagger at a nearby tree.  

As night began to settle, Madivh moved closer to the gate to get a better look at the people coming and going. 

He had decided sometime that day that it was possible that Nairus was coming to the city at night, and so far, he hadn’t stayed at his post past nightfall. Guards were always more aware of things at night, but now that he could use shadow magic a little easier, he planned on at least keeping his presence from being sensed if he couldn’t hold the magic fully to hide himself. 

What had solidified his decision was the final change of shift among the guardsman. Humans had been chosen for the night shift this turn; it had been elves and worgen the last several nights before.

Madivh was surprised by the amount of people who were returning to the city at night. There had been one or two merchants who were overwhelmed with relief to see the city, another hardened group of mercenaries who looked exhausted from the day, but not overly upset about their lack of success. Groups left as well, groups dressed in dark clothing who pushed their horses into a gallop as soon as they exited the city gates. 

There were lots of different colorful individuals as well. However, only one stood out that night. It was a lone man. A man with dark hair, a pair of swords, and leather enforcements. 

Madivh blood ran cold at the sight of him. Jacorek. But as his attention focused intently, he saw odd things on the man’s presence, and a lack of things as well. For instance, there were goggles the man had on him, and Madivh had never seen Jacorek wear such things. Another was that the man carried himself more like a typical civilian after a long day’s work, Jacorek had always carried himself with the confidence of a man who owned the world. 

The fourth day was a continuation of the third. Nairus had not shown up even at the strike of midnight. Madivh sniffled, eyes growing heavy, but he was determined. He was going to turn this into an all day event. Nairus would show up at some point, he felt it deep in his bones, perhaps, maybe, later in the night, he concluded. 

Madivh woke up to the sounds of hoofbeats. He jumped technically, having not realized he had fallen asleep. The light around him had grown softer and the skies were beginning to grow a deep reddish pink hue above. 

For fel’s sake. 

The hoofbeats were that of a large group of military men leaving the city. Still they were filling out and heading deep into the forest. A group of at least twenty lines of men, five in each row. 

Madivh frowned at the sight, before settling back into his spot, his dagger slipping back into its case.

Sunrise began to creep over the edges of the forest. The cool night air was churning into a heavier weight. Today would be overly hot. Maybe rain would be on its way? And maybe he should stop looking for Nairus. Four days and not a hint of any druid coming in or out of the forest. Maybe he was wrong with his deduction and Nairus had taken his druidic forms and was flying overhead. Or maybe he was right the first time and Nairus simply wasn’t planning on returning to the city.

“Nairus, is that you?” The name snapped Madivh out of his lull and focused on an elf dressed in robes, head covered, he was at the gates. Slipping by his notice while he thought of giving up. 

A guardsman had stopped the druid. 

“Morning, how are you fairing, Narji?”

The guardsman gave a short laugh. “Better, better. I heard that you got attacked, are you okay? What happened?”

There came a brief silence before Nairus waved his hand. “I did, but I’m well. I appreciate your concern,” he said a moment later. “I took a few days to collect myself, but I’ll be back at my station. Please, if you're still having issues come back and see me. I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.”

This did not sound like Nairus, but the voice was the same deep undertone. 

Madivh moved, gathering his bag and jogged his way into the edges of the forest. He quickly kept his pace, jumping over a few pieces of sticks before he jumped the fence line back on the path. He brushed himself down quickly, finding a loose leaf stuck in his shirt and pulled it out as he moved towards the gate. 

Nairus was ahead, already on the bridge into the city. As long as he kept him in sight, he could follow him until Nairus  stopped or reached his destination. Hopefully somewhere he could just blend in and approach him. Now that Nairus was before him, he wasn’t too sure if he should confront him. Maybe it was better to pretend he didn’t know Nairus. 

There have been a lot of maybe’s the last few days.

The guards were chattering as Madivh walked by. They spoke about the Shadowlands and how the guardsman, Narji,  had gone in the first wave and what had happened and when he awoke Nairus had been his tending healer.

Nairus led him through the trade district. He walked smoothly and casually, seemingly in no rush to go anywhere, but thanks to Nairus elongated legs, Madivh had to act like he was on a mission to go somewhere but didn’t want to make a scene by running.

Ah I wish I could stealth. He thought as a couple of people eyed him curiously in the early morning hours with barely ten people on the streets.

They went through a tunnel and entered the canals making their way over a bridge and began their way towards the harbor. A curious destination. 

As they rounded a corner, Nairus out of sight, Madivh kept himself in check and continued the stride he was on. When he rounded the corner, he was greeted with a seven foot tall elf looming over him.

“Is there something you need?” Nairus asked.

Jeez, he let his beard grow out. Came his first thought through the moment’s panic. “Ah, no, why?”

Nairus sighed. “You’ve been following me since you spotted me at the gates. “ Before Madivh could argue the point, which he had one in mind, Nairus pointed to his glowing amber eyes. “I can see perfectly in the morning light.” 

He felt himself pale for a moment before scoffing. “Okay, fine, you caught me.” Madivh raised his hands in defeat, taking a step back. “Yes, I actually had a question for you.”

“Then why not ask me beforehand?” Nairus said slowly, a hint of suspicion crossing his tone.

A nervous smile touched his lips. “Well, I wasn’t too sure how you handle hearing that I came back to life and was wondering if you’ve seen Mey?” 

A long, uncomfortable silence followed. Madivh glanced around, but there was not a soul out on this part of the street. He seemed to have failed in noticing such an obvious issue, he should have stayed further back, maybe even detoured when he realized they were heading towards the harbor.

When Nairus finally spoke, his voice was heavy, “Who are you?”

“Madivh,” He said with a quick smile. “Though I don’t quite look it. There’s some sort of resemblance, I promise, if you look closely enough.” 

Nairus went silent for a moment before he shook his head. “I’ll explain to you shortly. My memory isn’t as good as it should be right now. There is a section of my past I do not remember. How do you know Meyorin?” 

Meyorin? It sounded weird hearing her full name being stated. 

“Husband?” Madivh questioned. “What do you mean you don’t remember?” 

“Husband?” Nairus' shock was plain in his voice. “You?”

Madivh frowned. “Okay, close friend. Better for you? Why don’t you remember the name Madivh?”

Nairus seemed to relax, though it was hard to tell in facial expression, but the druid's shoulders seemed to fall. “The name does ring a familiar tone, I assure you,” he said, “But, I’m sorry. I am not at liberty to tell you anything about Meyorin. She was a patient of mine and--”

Madivh waved him off. “You don’t believe me. I understand. I heard you were attacked, I sympathise really. Listen. Nairus. We were friends, in a way, well we knew each other for a long time in human years. Either way, I’m not pulling your leg. The same person that brought Mey back is the same person that brought me back. I know she’s having trouble and I want to help her. Our son was kidnapped and being used against her, I want to make sure everything is fine. So I need to find her.”

It felt good to get what he had been feeling off his chest. He felt better.

Naiurs was strangely quiet. That good feeling was chased away and he found himself frowning again. 

“I see,” Nairus began. “Well, you don’t need to worry about that anymore. I-I do not know where she is, but I can tell you she rescued the person she was looking for. Whether that was your son or not, I couldn’t quite say.”

Really? “Silver-hair, half elf, ya?” Madivh found his temper taking him, but he didn’t necessarily care to bottle it.

Nairus went quiet again before nodding. “Yes.” He sounded a bit surprised. Then he leaned forward a tad. “Really? You two are mates?”

Madivh rolled his eyes. “Praise be, let's move on from that ya? Remember how I said I was brought back? I’m much older than I look. Different too.”

Nairus seemed to contemplate that statement before nodding. “I’m not lying either way. I don’t know where she is. After I was attacked, she gave chase and I haven’t seen her since. All I know is she’s safe right now, somewhere.”

The news was not what he wanted to hear. Four days. Four days of sitting outside these walls just to be mocked and no information. “You know anyone that could help? Maybe tell me who attacked you?” He figured it was Jacorek, but if what Nairus said was true and he didn’t remember him, would he remember Jacorek?

Nairus shook his head. “No to both questions. She only came to me when she was injured and when she brought the boy with her. We didn’t really talk. I’m sorry.”

The politeness seemed to draw a thin line of irritation. It was fake. Nairus still didn’t believe him, and for that, didn’t trust him. He could be lying, or telling the truth. Nairus had always been cunning in that department and it was impossible to tell which it was.

“Perfect. Well then, I’ll keep looking. If by chance I need to talk to you again, where can I find you?”

Nairus straightened and looked over his shoulder. “I’m a battle medic for the military stationed here at the moment.” He paused momentarily before giving a light shrug. “If she contacts me again, I’ll let her know you’re looking for her.” 

Madivh gave a brief smile. “Appreciated, and,” he said, looking the druid over for a moment. “Sorry for what happened. And thank you,” he added as the twins came to mind. “Thank you for what you’ve done. Even if you don’t remember, maybe it's better that way. Nonetheless, thank you.” He gave a half-hearted wave as he turned and began walking away. 

Nairus didn’t say anything nor did he move straight away. 

I knew finding her would be difficult, but god's blood Mey, why are you practically impossible to find even a hint of you anywhere? 

She had to have a presence here in the city. He just needed to find it. Too find the one straw that could lead him to her.  

#madivh #nairus #writing

[agardenofmonsters]

Fae BF | Pollux | Part 2

TransMasc Reader x Masc Fae Boyfriend

You x He/Him

Yay you get to meet my new  character who I absolutely adore <3 hope you like him too!

--------------------

The world seems to tilt. The sky shimmers.

You back away from the Fae until your back hits a tree. Looking at your hands, you could almost feel the manacles clamping onto your wrists.

“Don’t act so upset,” the Fae calls. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“My whole life…” you whisper frantically. “I’ve been trapped by a name that wasn’t mine...and now that I have my proper name...I am trapped yet again!”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he says unsympathetically. “Life is what you make of it….now look alive.”

You snap to attention, feeling a little dizzy. His hand is outstretched.

“Come to me, pet.”

Your body straightens and starts walking over to the Fae.

You hate how natural it feels to obey him.

You pause as you reach him, and you watch your hand lift and place itself onto Pollux’s. He takes your hand and leans down to kiss it, sending a surge of goosebumps up your arm.

“Let’s get out of here.”

He grips your hand a little tighter. And like he did earlier, he takes you quickly through the meadow towards the monolithic rock formation like you’re fast forwarding through a movie. He uses the stone as a staircase, but his feet keep stepping even though he runs off the top of it. Despite not being able to see any of the crystal-clear steps, Pollux does not stumble, and neither do you. 

Only when you’re a couple stories up do the steps level out onto a platform. Pollux slows down and looks at you with bright, shining eyes.

“Now remember,” he taunts with a shit-eating grin. “Be on your best behavior! Don’t want any Fae to get mad at you….Trust me.”

You don’t respond.

“Alright, let’s go!” He says cheerfully, turning you around so he’s behind you. He plants a hand on your back and pushes you forward.

It’s like walking in the air, except the treetops poke through the crystalline floor. Soft, fluffy pink clouds furnish the space, billowing in giant mounds and spanning across the ground. Tree branches poke up out of the ground like flowers.

Everything was dusted with sparkles...or at least that was how everything looked.

Pollux pushes you towards the middle of two rows of booths, each with its own sets of fairies talking amongst each other in this little marketplace.

But the romantic air of the environment starts dropping in pieces as each group of Fae realize that you are there.

Then they all just stare. With their big gemstone eyes.

They would be beautiful if you weren’t completely angry or terrified.

You see now where Pollux is taking you—a giant stone obelisk stands proud at the end of the marketplace in a large clearing, and at the bottom of it is an extremely tall Fae with a crown on his head giving instruction to two smaller Fae.

“Pollux, Pollux!” you murmur urgently to him.

He ignores you.

“Ohhhh Aubergine!” Pollux yells in a sing-song fashion. “Guess what I found!”

He gives you a hard push and this time you fall to your knees. The tall Fae pinches the bridge of his nose before turning to actually look at Pollux. His gaze then falls upon you and your stomach knots with anxiety; he is breathtakingly beautiful. His ice blue eyes are accentuated by his dark purple skin, and his hair is a beautiful silvery white. You scramble to stand under his intimidating gaze, but his countenance shows no emotion.

He looks back at Pollux, cool demeanor turning icy: “What have you done?”

“Saving this poor human from the woods, obviously,” he replies, unfazed by Aubergine’s chastising.

“You know the consequences of interfering with the mortal realm, and yet you refuse to take heed of the warnings.”

Pollux rolls his eyes: “Don’t be so dramatic. I found this one alone, miles from society.”

“I don’t care for your attitude, Pollux. You have stolen a human from their home to which they can no longer return. Have you no sympathy?”

Pollux’s wings flutter angrily: “You’re just jealous that I caught one.”

“I have no need for jealousy—I just want you to understand the gravity of your actions.”

Aubergine turns to you: “On behalf of the Fae realm, I apologize for the actions of Pollux and what it has led to.”

Before you can say anything, Pollux grabs your arm and starts dragging you away from the Fae, muttering angrily under his breath.

“I’ll show him…”

“Ouch, Pollux,” you say, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “You’re hurting me.”

Pollux halts and lets go of you: “I’m sorry....he just really gets under my skin.”

“Who is he?”

“Prince Aubergine of the Fae realm. He basically just makes sure everything runs smoothly...and that rules are followed absolutely.”

“Oh, yeah I noticed his crown.”

He looks at you with a smirk: “He’s pretty handsome, isn’t he?”

You feel your cheeks get red: “I mean sure but it’s like...whatever!”

Pollux pinches your cheek: “I’m just playing with ya, don’t worry. Come on, I’m gonna show you my place.”

You follow him to a facade of white marble columns draped in luminescent fabrics. You take the large marble stairs up to a wall of drapes. Pollux parts the wall and gestures you inside with a highfalutin smile.

The inside is a large room with white marble flooring, gossamer fabrics billowing in the breeze at the outer borders. Some expensive-looking sofas sit near the middle of the room as what could be an elegant area for hosting, and a large bed waits at the very back, dressed in red linens. It was a bedroom fit for a king; and you get the strongest feeling that you don’t belong here.

Pollux is looking at you with a searching expression, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

You go up to a sofa almost in a trance and lay your hand on it, feeling the smoothness.

“Wow,” you whisper.

“What was that?” Pollux says, appearing suddenly behind you and making you jump.

You put a hand on your chest to slow your heart: “It’s amazing—what else do you want me to say?”

Pollux puts his hands on your hips and moves in close: “My bed’s pretty great too.”

Your heart jumps to your throat and you instinctively put your hands up between you two: “I’m sure it is, but it’s a no from me.”

Pollux sighs and releases you: “One day, pretty thing. One day.”

“I highly doubt that,” you mutter.

Pollux then flies over the seating area to plop down onto his bed. He stretches loudly and then turns to you.

“Very well, very well. Fetch me some food then.”

You feel your body engaging under his control but are confused: “Where do I even get food?”

“The booths near the entrance, darling. Someone will help you—oh! But first,” he says flying to the cabinets behind the sofas. “Let’s get you out of those clothes!”

He pulls out a pair of pants with an elastic-like waistband and leg cuffs: “These should fit you well.”

“I don’t need to change my clothes—”

“It’ll be fine; it’ll help you fit in better.”

“I doubt that,” you mutter under your breath.

He gives you a stack of clothes and crosses his arms, looking at you expectantly.

“Fine, I’ll wear them, but you can’t watch,” you demand.

“Alright, alright,” he says holding up his hands appeasingly. “I’ll go...here.”

He then goes to his bed and throws the covers over his head so there’s only his feet showing.

“Is this alright with you?” He asks, voice muffled from the sheets.

You don’t answer him and instead just start getting dressed. You pause for a breath because you don’t know what to do about your binder, but in the end you just decide to leave it on. 

You look over at the lump of sheets where Pollux is hiding and shake your head confusedly. For a Fae who could do anything he wanted with you, he certainly doesn’t as much as he could. And for a second, you are almost grateful.

“Okay,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. “I’m done.”

He sits up, sheets ruffling up his hair: “Well now, you look fantastic.”

Standing there, clutching yourself self-consciously while dressed in foreign clothes, you most certainly do not feel that way.

“Now, go get me some food, and be snappy!” He commands lightly.

You straighten up and leave the room without another word, wandering the path where you had been dragged by Pollux—and notice someone coming towards you.

Prince Aubergine.

Heat rises in your cheeks and you clutch your arms in reaction.

Just relax it’s fine, you’ve done nothing wrong…………….right?

You wonder whether to ignore him or give him a nod in deference and decide to go with the latter.

He watches you with icy, unrevealing eyes, but passes by you without saying anything.

You feel your blood pumping to your ears and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Alright, it’s over….now where do I get food?

Reaching the clearing where the booths were located, you are again met with stares.

“Uh—um. Pollux requested food. Is this where I can get some?”

After a beat, a kind fairy with dark skin and bright yellow eyes fetches a plate full of various fruits from one of the booths.

“This’ll do fine, hun. Pollux isn’t picky when it comes to food,” she says warmly.

“Th-thank you very much!” you sputter, taking the extravagant tray of food. You look around quickly and then do a quick bow as you rush away with your quarry.

On the way back you have more time to inspect the plate in all its glory: fruits with lustre and golden skin adorned the plate like a display fit for royalty. You are tempted to eat one, just to see what it would be like, but you remember the tales and decide against it.

I guess the Fae really do live in luxury. 

As you approach the front with the plate, you hear two voices speaking in a repressed passion.

“I knew you couldn’t stand being away from me,” says Pollux.

“Of course I care about you, how could I not?” says the second.

“You only care about getting some, and I’d be okay with that if you didn’t treat me like I’m a fool when we’re not being intimate.”

“There are rules to be followed and you treat that as if they’re mere suggestions!”

“See, just admit you love controlling me more than you love me and get it over with.”

You trip.

On one of the curtains.

Fruit goes everywhere.

But you see.

Pollux.

And...Prince Aubergine.

Looking up from where you are on the ground, you scramble up, sputtering apologies.

Pollux storms over to you, face unreadable. He takes you…….and dips you, pressing a kiss on your lips. Pulling you back up on your feet and leaving you bewildered.

But the look.

On the Prince’s face.

It barely cracked the surface, but you saw it.

Heat.

Heat in those icy blue eyes.

What does it mean?

Pollux picks up a glittering pear that lay on the ground next to his feet, he brushes it off on his clothes, and takes a bite, juice dripping down his chin.

“Still tastes good to me,” he says cheerfully, laying an elbow on your shoulder as if the whole interaction never happened.

The Prince sighs, shaking his head, and leaves, stepping around the scattered fruit. Pollux eyes him the whole way, not even trying to be clandestine.

Before he exits he looks at Pollux: “We’re not done talking.”

#fae bf #monster boyfriend #pollux #aubergine #monstergarden #my writing #transmale reader #reader insert #exophilia

[enkelimagnus]

History

Bucky Barnes Gen, 2375 words, rated T

Jewish Bucky Barnes, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier: Episode 4 The Whole World is Watching

Bucky and Zemo find themselves talking about Sokovia, about family, and about where they come from.

TW: antisemitism mention

Read on AO3

Part 29 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series

--------------

"Were there Jews in Sokovia?"

Zemo came back to himself an hour or two ago. He’s resting now, a damp towel on what must be a pounding headache. If Walker had been a supersoldier, Zemo would be dead. The shield, sent flying like that by someone on the serum would have broken his neck with the force of its slamming into his temple.

He wouldn’t be laying there, drinking glass after glass of something probably not recommended for someone with a concussion. He’s dosed himself on painkillers as well. Hopefully, he won’t die before the Dora Milaje arrive. If he died under Bucky’s watch, he doesn’t think he would ever be forgiven.

Bucky’s been staring at the windows for a while now, just… waiting for Zemo to start talking again. He grew bored of it. Even if the windows are beautiful and make him lose time in memories of his childhood shul and on the necklaces they all wore.

"It was an Eastern European country. Of course there were,” Zemo answers in that almost amused matter-of-fact tone of his. The same kind he used when he talked about Marvin Gaye. Now Bucky gets Sam’s “He’s out of line, but he’s right.” His voice is hoarse though, a clear sign of what he’s just gone through. Bucky finds himself slightly satisfied by that crack.

"Where was your family from?" Zemo asks. Perhaps it’s the same sort of question that led to that conversation in the plane. Bucky didn’t need to tell him he was Jewish after that.

"Romania."

Zemo nods quietly. "Ah. Not far, actually. Is that why you found a hiding place there before I flushed you out?"

That’s an interesting question, and Bucky shouldn’t be surprised he’s asking it.

"Not really." He didn’t know his family was Romanian until a couple of months in, until a mother’s lullaby triggered an avalanche of memories. “Followed some memories there.”

“What did they do? Your parents?”

Bucky huffs and turns towards him. “Why do you want to know?” He asks, jutting out his chin. He doesn’t know if he wants to talk to Zemo about that. But Zemo’s the only one who has ever asked. Steve didn’t need to. And no one else has spent long enough with Bucky to wonder.

“I am curious,” Zemo shrugged. “This is not a trick. I have nothing to gain by having this information. Your parents are dead. They cannot be used as leverage.”

“You sure know a lot about leverage, huh Zemo?” His answer is sarcastic, poking. The ghost of the tension from earlier in the day, the one that made Bucky let go of his tight leash of control to break one of Zemo’s expensive cups, hovers between them for a moment.

“I am a criminal,” Zemo hums. “A killer. And a Baron. Of course, I know a lot about leverage, James.”

At least he doesn’t hide from the truth. Bucky guesses that those eight years in solitary gave him time to self-reflect.

They both fall silent for a moment again. Zemo sips his whiskey. Bucky wishes he could get drunk. The minutes tick by. The Dora Milaje could come any time now. It’s hanging in the air with the tension, with the silence.

“You didn’t answer my question, James,” the man’s voice comes from the couch where he’s lounging. “What did they do?”

“My da worked in a journal in Romania. A Yiddishe one,” Bucky explains. “Worked in a printing factory in America. My ma helped sell the papers on the market. When she moved here and had us, she didn’t start working again until everything crashed and da died. I was working, but it wasn’t enough. We were four kids, and there was Steve, and his ma too, until she passed.”

He stops talking. He’s saying too much. Way too much. Zemo doesn’t need to know those things, he shouldn’t be talking about those things. It’s too personal, too intimate. Even Hydra didn’t know. Why is he telling Zemo?

Because Zemo’s going to the Raft. He’s going to be buried there and never come out, and he won’t be able to tell anyone. You could tell him what Steve tasted like, he wouldn’t be able to talk.

“What did your parents do?” Bucky asks, turning the question back on Zemo. It’s not the same, of course not. Bucky’s pretty sure he could find all the information about Heinrich Zemo readily available online.

“My father was a Baron and a businessman,” Zemo replies anyway, evenly. “He was also a sitting member of Hydra’s European branch.”

Bucky’s eyes snap to Zemo. He can’t see him, only the back of his head. Is he smug? Is he happy he got to push one of Bucky’s buttons this way?

“You didn’t meet him, I believe,” Zemo continues. “At least as far as I am aware.”

Bucky doesn’t reply. What is there to say, thanks?

“My mother was a housewife. She was a Baroness. She did charity events, talked to people, was beautiful at my father’s side. That was what they did. As for myself, I was, as you know, in the army. Before my service, however, I studied in Oxford, Philosophy, Politics and Economics, before interning in Berlin for two years. Only then, after much partying and drinking, did I settle and join the ranks.”

Bucky leans against the counter, huffing. “You wanna talk about yourself a bunch today, don’t you?”

“I was going to follow that with a question on your own Curriculum Vitae, James.”

“Why? Wanna hire me?”

Zemo chuckles, a puffy sound immediately followed by a sharp intake of breath. Pain, perhaps. That’ll teach him.

“Humor me?” he asks and for some reason, Bucky shrugs and decides to do so.

“Top student in Washington High School until ‘33, graduated early, started working. Making girls’ dresses. Working on the docs in the evening too,” Bucky recounts, sighing softly. “Got drafted. Deployed in ‘43. The rest you know.”

“No college despite being a so-called top student?” Zemo asks. Bucky can feel the airquotes in his voice.

Bucky huffs loudly. “We didn’t have that kind of money. We could have, without the crash. Could have gotten a scholarship, but it wasn’t… Da passed, and I had to make sure there was food on the table.” He shoves his hands in his pockets.

“I’m sure you’d be able to afford some sort of degree now.”

“Not an option.”

He’s not going to start explaining all the way Hydra fucked him up, how his attention span is shorter than it’s ever been except when a mission is involved, how his brain flips through languages constantly. How he would have issues handling the workload, the students around him. Crowded lecture halls would be terrible for his brain.

He doesn’t know what he wants to do after this.

Maybe just read books and go on runs and eat kugel and drink vodka. Those sound like good things to do.

"I saw Sokovia fall," Bucky says after a moment. "I was in Austria."

Zemo’s curious loose attitude shifts as Bucky says that.

“It made a big cloud,” Bucky keeps going. He doesn’t know why. “I barely had my mind, but I knew what I was seeing was world-ending. Catastrophic. Horrifying.”

“I was in Novi Grad for a chunk of the battle, before the city rose. And then I ordered my unit to run. To save their families if they could.” Zemo’s voice is quiet, tight with horrible grief. It’s been nine years and it’s still intense. Bucky guesses he hasn’t had anyone to talk about it with. It’s strange that it’s with him. “I was on the road to my father’s property when the city fell. Chunks of it fell around me, like terrible lethal snow.”

Bucky understands that. He remembers days on the front line in France, where the bombs falling from the sky almost looked like rain until they hit the ground and exploded and killed. Sometimes, at night, the lights in the sky were painfully beautiful.

“I have German citizenship, because of my mother’s own German citizenship. My father insisted I claim it, so I interned at the Bundestag for a couple of years in my twenties. Perhaps he was a visionary, perhaps he knew that one day Sokovia would come to fall and I wouldn’t be able to be Sokovian anymore. It’s strange.” He hums. “To know I do not have a home anymore.” There’s a pause. “Do you know what that feels like?” Zemo adds after a moment.

Bucky hums. “Borders change, political regimes fall. By all accounts, I’m American, but I spent more time in my life speaking Russian than I did speaking English. And yet, the Soviet Union has been gone for over thirty years. And I only learned that ten years ago. The America I grew up in is gone, too. So… I’m nothing. I’m nowhere.”

“Do you know what the strangest part of all of this is, James?” Zemo asks. “Sokovia is gone. In dust. There are no places I can go that still look the same as they once did. There are no buildings still standing. Their stones will one day be in museums, without context. It’s like it never existed, really. Memories are good, but they only last one lifetime, if that long.”

“In a hundred years, those memories will be gone,” Bucky finishes for him.

Zemo finishes his glass. “I’m the King of Sokovia,” he says then, and Bucky immediately wonders if they shouldn’t try to seek some sort of medical assistance.

“I’m royalty. The last living royal of Sokovia. I’m the King,” he explains. “King of ash, King of a memorial. King of the dead.”

“Yeah, I doubt Wanda Maximoff would accept you as King,” Bucky quips, and Zemo chuckles.

“Ah, the Maximoff girl,” he mutters. “Do you know just how many times her head was in the visor of my rifle?” He asks, and Bucky can hear the smirk, the predator’s grin in his voice. “When I was with EKO Scorpion, watching her and her anarchist friends… Do you know how many times I could have killed her?”

“Why didn’t you? Bucky asks with genuine curiosity.

“She wasn’t dangerous then. She was just a girl, an idealistic teenager. She hadn’t met Hydra yet. I had no reason to end her life.”

He shifts on the couch, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from God knows where on his person. He tosses it over to him. Bucky catches them, and the following lighter. He doesn’t ask why Zemo doesn’t take one. They’re cheap, from a Slavic brand. The tobacco blend is familiar to Bucky. His handlers used to smoke it.

The lighter is familiar too, a Zippo. It clicks and sounds like the hundreds of thousands Bucky has heard in his life.

“The Maximoffs were Sokovian Jews,” Zemo says after Bucky pulls the preliminary drag of his cigarette. White plumes wave over his face for a moment. “Wanda and Pietro wore the marks of their heritage for years on the front lines of their revolution.”

Bucky frowns a little. “I don’t remember it from the images, afterwards.”

“I can only guess they took it off when they joined Hydra,” Zemo points out. Bucky takes a hard long drag and the taste is like a ghost of Soviet pride. “Von Strucker was an antisemite.”

Bucky chuckles at that. Of course he was. “What a surprise,” he mutters sarcastically.

“He was not one of the hidden ones either,” Zemo points out. “He was quite loud about his opinions when he believed himself in the right circles.”

“You sure seem to know a lot about von Strucker’s views, Zemo,” Bucky says quietly.

“He was a Baron of Sokovia too. I saw him several times a year, for official occasions of the royalty, and informal meetings at my family’s estate for most of my life. He and I were not that far apart in age, I must admit we shared toys once upon a time, in palaces like the one Karli and her friends now occupy.”

The world is small, especially the kind of world Hydra, the Soldier and the Avengers lived in. Bucky doesn’t exactly believe that he never met Zemo’s father. He doesn’t know if he would remember it if he had. Unless he was given the man’s name in some way, he probably was nothing but another higher up, another possible handler, another persona had to obey.

“So your government knew Hydra was in Sokovia?” Bucky asks, pulling more on his cigarette, trying to parse out a timeline of events.

“The government was Hydra,” Zemo replies, his voice heavy. “It had been for decades. Truth is, I never knew Sokovia without Hydra encroaching on it like a tumor.”

Bucky shifts, humming quietly. Zemo’s hatred of Hydra is surprising now that he knows his father was. “Why aren’t you Hydra, then? If your family was?”

Zemo shrugs. He has that sharp intake of breath again, probably accompanied by a wince.

“When the main Hydra branch fell, in 2014, I was only 35,” he mutters. “I was getting invited to the parties, of course, as the heir of the Baron, but… I guess I was too green for these people. Contrary to Wolfgang, I didn’t share a lot of their ideals. Perhaps I did, as a youth, believe some of their lies… It is impossible not to take in some of your parents’ philosophy.”

Bucky huffs, shaking his head. “So what? You met a poor Jew once and it changed you?” He asks sarcastically.

Zemo shakes his head. “I don’t know. I couldn’t tell you. I don’t believe it was a singular event.”

He wouldn’t be the first rich kid to find some cause to care about as a rebellion from the parental authority. Bucky doesn’t say anything more about that. It’s not good to dwell on these things. What is going to come from confronting it anyway?

“Either way, let’s both be thankful I am not Hydra, yes?” Zemo shifts, standing back up slightly, to rest in a better direction.

Yeah. Let’s be thankful.

Sam comes in then with his computer and Bucky takes the opportunity to see himself in the bathroom, thinking everything over.

#jewish bucky barnes #bucky barnes #helmut zemo #marvel #fic #mine #jbu

[zuihuojoui]

reflection eternal

Thursday December 10 2020; Evening. 

There is a stillness in the air when the sun sets. A silence just before the night truly comes alive. There the hues of amber meet and melt into deep purples. Those that enjoy the cover of darkness for what it offers, prepare in this time, waiting for the moon to take its peak and to let their revelry begin. Joui too at this time would be preparing for some merriment at his favorite haunts. Bathing and scenting himself, adorning in perfectly created attire for his frame. And then off to lounging with a beautiful courtesan with music playing and laughter filling the space. 

But his evenings had been filled with more focus than pleasure since the veil had opened and closed. His own self awareness had been revived. Genun had raised a mirror before him, showing Joui all his shortcomings. His faults were so plainly obvious then. How he had not seen it and needed another to point such flaws, the sign of another. 

A weakness, and one he could not afford. 

Since then reflection had kept the Ace away from the gatherings he so frequented and adored. Nights passing the threshold into the home nestling one warm fox, alone broke this reflection. Nari’s smile and embrace turned his nights into mornings, then noon, and back to nights again. Days had been spent in front of the fireplace, idly reading old tales with her fur and curiosity accompanying him. Even when she had been wrought with complaint of his turning from her on the Blue Moon’s rise, he had taken it in spoons, answering where his temper would let him, his countenance warning after further indulgence. Even with the revelations that night brought for both, her company had offered him peace.

Now, within the confines of his own palace on the estate of his clan, the peace she gifted lingered like cashmere draped around him to edge the chill of cooling air. Yet that peace could not change the image he saw in the mirror Genun left before him. And that kept the doors to his palace closed, his staff keeping all his clan away. 

His aunt had come through the portal to stay, a close sister of Genun. Her eyes felt like his, though lacking his restraint. This Zuihuo took much pleasure in torture and had perfected her mental cages far earlier than her older siblings. A prodigy with a wicked smile. With her tutelage Joui had mastered his illusionary webs and come to understand other usages, beyond the fatality of its complete form. He cared deeply for Ayao but could not be in her presence as he was. She despised weakness and he could see nothing but its stench on him.

Locked within, he weighed himself and found himself lacking, all while seeing the path he needed to take. How he hated being forced to act. How he hated influence on his actions. But he loved the woman with this influence. And that love was his weakness. 

He sat at his table, dinner having been removed and tea before him. The golden set chosen was delicate with embossed butterflies along its front. As he let the aroma flood his nostrils, his eyes closed, falling into the calm it provided. When his eyes opened the creature with strong illusion magic from his birthday was before him, matching golden cup in hand, the black gnarled remnant of what would be a hand. He looked ahead at the skull of a head and wondered how this thing would consume the expertly brewed tea. 

Again, he sensed no malice from this creature so he stayed calm, drinking from his own cup. Eyes passing the features he still did not comprehend, his questions pilling. And then it speaks. The voice a beautiful melody, enchanting and alluring. He recalls the illusion this being wore at their first meet. Such a voice would pair nicely with that crafted deception, but this, this robed creature with its branch like antlers extending a span wider than his table, this visage did not suit such a sweet voice. The combination forced his focus, even with calm, keeping watch over all its movements. 

“Ace of Hearts Zuihuo Joui of the Zuihuo Clan.” There is a pregnant pause here, almost as though she’s drinking though the small cup in her hand doesn’t move. “You didn’t tell anyone about us.” This last is said as statement, and you tell by her tone she’s amused. “I would like to know why.”

Joui’s eyes set upon the swirl of meshing grey that he supposed still was this creature’s eyes and smiled as it spoke. That was what it wanted to know? 

“I am rather good with secrets”, he breathed, cup at his lips. “And this one is the best I’ve come across in centuries. Why would I let those who couldn’t enjoy it as I, know of it?” he posed then looked to the staff in the other hand of this being. “Worry not, just my clan know of it, and none else will ever”, he vowed in all sincerity. Lying to a being he suspected could quite easily see the end of his days, was not a wise thing to do. And even as Joui felt quite diminished in his self reflection, he was still much about his senses. 

“Consider us honored”, he continued. “In awe really. This play at deity would entertain us for lifetimes”, he said looking from the creatures eyes to its antlers to his cup within its grasp. “No doubt it has entertained you,” He paused, head tilting to the side, strands falling off his shoulder as his thoughts formed words.

Us.  You didn’t tell anyone about us.

Multiple of these beings, far removed from this realm, yet deeply engrained in both. There was admiration there and a sense of similarity between his clan and these beings, Joui felt. 

“You - do grant me a name to call you as I hope I will be afforded more of these visits, I do appreciate them so. Perhaps even your preference in teas. Does this one suit your palette? I find the oranges and chrysanthemum blended so, comforting, with the climate shifting”, Joui said, musing with this horned creature as a new friend than a superior being . He then took a sip from his glass before resting it down.

The creature made no moves to answer him outright but Joui wasn’t sure what he expected in return to his request. He was testing just how much this creature cared to give and what his limitations would be in asking.

“Though I did not speak of you, and yours, and certainly will not, I do wonder. The lessers walk from interactions with your kind blessed, and while I do feel more informed, I too would like such a gift. But spare me a gift of your mischief, no matter how amusing. Knowledge is what I crave”, he spoke watching tea be removed from the cup but showing no path, simply removed. This creature was consuming it, just not in any manner Joui could see. He wondered what other skill beyond illusion magic it possessed. 

It pleased him, even in its outrageous form, lacking no real beauty. Joui was deeply enthused by the possibilities unknown and the unknowns held in this being. How he desired to converse further and ask of it things beyond this world. It pushed his reflection aside, minimizing it. 

“Your stalwart silence about what you've seen is appreciated. In return for it's continuation, Joui of the Zuihuo Clan, I will give you a gift that will ease your path in the future. Something you've long wanted. “

Joui looked up as the door opened and attendants stepped into the room, heads lowering to him once their eyes met. He looked back to the creature but it was gone, his cup too. Joui chuckled to himself as he rose from the chair, easing from the table. He walked from the dinning room out into the hall, sending a servant to fetch something warm. Returned with a velvet cape, secured around his shoulders, Joui walked down to see his growing dragon.

Syuusen had been taken through the portal into the realm, nourished in its magics while the veil was open, then returned to this world before it closed. The dragon had doubled its size, its fires hotter, and more capable of caring for itself. The difference in how time moved between this realm and their home was a gift in times like this. Joui watched the golden creature uncoil from the trees above him, his golden eyes, tinted with a touch of mahogany connecting with Joui’s own golden glare.

“Hello my beautiful friend”, he spoke as the dragon coiled around him. His head leaned into meet the dragon’s, whiskers passing his cheek. His hand passed his underbelly, earning a hum of appreciation. “Have you ever seen a creature drink with no sign of drinking, my Syuusen?” he asked countenance lifted much after his meet with the foreign being. He smiled, hand passing over the creature happily receiving Joui’s focus and care. “To do without being seen, but the goal well accomplished. Indeed”, he mused taking meaning far deeper than the simple act of tea drinking. “To act”, he breathed as two cages were wheeled into the space, two large uncorrupted manabeasts shaking the cages at sight of the dragon and fae. He stood still, his eyes holding their glow as the cages were open and creatures let their calls go out into the night air.

Syuusen freed himself from Joui’s frame and lunged at the horned beast, whipping past it, its tail lashing at it while flames roared from its mouth to the other. The enflamed creature wailed under the flames for a moment before a secondary burst ended its suffering. The other ran from the blaze, Joui paying no attention to his dragon and its play with its food, too caught within his own thoughts. Wind lifted his cape as the dragon flew past Joui to catch the escaping prey. 

“To act”, he mused again, “regardless of sight”, he continued, eyes looking up to the star filled skies. “Even love cannot hold me prisoner’, he spoke with a soft smile. “For action is demanded of me and I cannot fail.” Syuusen roared on capture of his prey, pulling Joui to look as he encircled the beast with its body, sound rising in the night like laughter from the dragon. And then the blaze took to the prey, ending its existence. The dragon clamped its mouth around the cooked beast, flying back to where Joui stood. There he pulled both burned manabeasts, slowly devouring their flesh.

“I see my love enjoys playing with his prey”, he said watching the dragon snap into the bones and toss them aside for meat. “As do I, my Syuusen, as do I. To play is amusement, to kill is the finality of that act.” He worded, watching the creature eat its fill. 

“To act.”

#kadeu: plot drop #sp: reflection eternal. plot drop 7 #will prob glance over this again but eviction it is