#was mostly about how she was sad about having a cabbage head

[lillithaurelia]

I’ve lived in a room behind my eyes, seeing the world on the outside throughout two meters big and three meters wide windows, behind the two centimetres big human eyes. Behind my eyes, there is a small, dark abandoned room, where I live. I call it the operating system, but the control panels were smashed decade ago, in trying to operating the body that never wanted to listen. I remember walking to school in the beginnings of my residency; 7:45 would always tick off just as I walked next to the closed travel agency, at the very beginning of the December. I recall feeling content inside my little warm room, and not being my windows, four meters long vessels and my two meters long arms, dealing with the coldness around me. I remember how windows were always directed at the naked branches which have melted into the denim blue sky. The wind was blowing creepily, pushing the creations of the black clouds to walk with me on the lonely road where even the stray cats weren’t noticed. The Body went through hell, but it has decided to survive in its own way; the control panel was overgrown with the roots, shattered in half. I continued to love the Body, even though I was alone and my voice was just an echo who nobody could hear.

Life in front of my window was passing like a bullet train, I was never interested in the people whom the Body found interesting. I knew their fate by the first look in their eyes. I could never make the Body understand, the path with those people will soon take its own paths. I wasn’t interested in being present when windows didn’t drown in the depths of a stormy sky above the dark crushing waves. In those moments, my soul felt piece. That Monday I was sitting in front of the window, observing choices the Body has made, again. The Body was just a seconds away from meeting someone new. I got up and stood closely to the window, I wanted to see their eyes but mostly their fate. Crowd moved like a snake in front of me, going towards the exit of the terminal. It was all blurry but the second I’ve passed the doors, there was a lock on the eyes, there she was standing with her head tilted in the cabbage of her woollen scarf, just a little bit over her right shoulder. I could barely see her face, but her eyes were cutting through me. I walked towards her and all of the people around us disappeared, while she stood motionless looking at me, behind the windows. She didn’t stare at the windows, she stared at me. I glued myself to the window, I wanted to look as much as I could. I made no sound, I just stared. I have never felt that way. It took me one morning to realise, you cannot buy happiness. Happiness was contained out of her. If I could have, I would have in the same moment dropped the easygoing life next to the sea, in exchange to share a life with her in a 30m of an illegal apartment into the ghettiest neighbourhood who had windows facing offices while driving an old VW and holding her in my arms while she cries herself out. Moving away anywhere with her, achieving the goals together, no matter how slow it would be. I didn’t care about that. I would have change that in an instant. I couldn’t see me ever getting away from her. The Body felt fear and locked itself. The Body fell into an ocean of fear, but I was the one who drowned. The day I was leaving, she took a shower while her best friend and me were drinking coffee on her red couch. She came in a pink shorts and a white t-shirt while listening to “When you go” and it stuck in my head. I didn’t thought it meant something, but the song never found the way out of my head. As the first vibration was felt of flying off the ground, first tear fell with the first beats of the song. Thirteen replays or hour and a half later, I landed. I wasn’t prepared of the intensity I felt. I have never and will never experience it again. But instead of trying to understand it, I brushed it off and treating her as a friend. I’ve screamed and shouted inside this room, but the Body wouldn’t listen. It felt she would be smothered of everything inside of me. I’ve felt I couldn’t mess that up. I’ve could lost everything, but I couldn’t lose her. I just found her. I didn’t want to interfere with the lessons she needed to pass, so it felt like I’m making a good decision. I was there, and she could rely on me throughout her hardship. That was all that mattered to me. She was all that she mattered to me. In the meantime, I had couple relationships, but years later, I’ve discovered how every girl I’ve dated, was a poor version of her. I still treated her as nothing more than a friend. And I’ve been a bad friend too.

And then I moved in. I couldn’t leave her to think is she worthy of love when she was left out every couple of months because people wanted to explore other options. I would have given anything to have a privilege of waking her up every morning with a tons of kisses and the love song I found for her and going to bed with her in my arms and her music playing softly in the background. It took me 5 hours and 20g of shrooms in a dark room with an aunt’s tub to understand that I’ve been doing the same. They wanted to explore other options and I’ve been scared of her being the only one that I’ll ever choose, the vulnerability of giving yourself to someone like that. In both cases, she was alone. She couldn’t give a shit about the reasons, she was alone while people told her that they loved her. The same reason I hated anyone who have hurt her. And it breaks my heart. It breaks my heart thinking she have questioned my love for her, and I’m breaking my own heart because I was just scared. Of losing my happiness. Without ever giving a taste of happiness to her. Shattered pieces are lying inside my soul and they are cutting me as I breathe. I’ve laid in the bath tub, in complete dark and silence for five hours. I forgot how I usually wash my hair. I forgot what is my usual routine on skin care. I sat naked on the edge of a tub, I felt relieved that some of my programming were erased for a period. I forgot everything, except her. She was the only thing I could remember.

I was never jealous but I would often hurt myself because I wanted to be that simple, easier to swallow.. but I wasn’t and never will be. Sometimes, I am just an emotionless being who doesn’t realise that while it’s happening. I guess I saw that recognition as somebody sitting hidden in front of her windows. I needed to show. I needed to show. The whole time, I thought she knew. Can I blame her? I wish I could. She deserves to be loved the way she needs it. To know she is loved. I wasn’t aware, I wasn’t aware. I wasn’t aware that the love of my fucking life, wasn’t showed love. By me. I have never, ever thought that I’m giving her toxic love. She’s always in my room and we’re always happy. But then again, there’s a difference between someone who’s doing non intentional and someone who’s doing things just to hurt.

I wish I could travel back in time, all twelve years in therapy and six specialist prior, to the one I had at the age of six. I wish I could tell her, nothing will help whatever you do, but just try making me into someone who will show her happiness without her questioning. Someone who will share her sorrow as much as the happiness. Someone who’ll she trust. It’s the only thing I have never learned alone.

I’ll always miss you like a deaf musician is missing his favourite song.

I wish you didn’t gave up.

#SoundCloud

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

#selfie bee #I'm sorry that the content on this blog hasn't have much variety lately :c I felt a bit art blocked recently but I think I'm over it #I think it was because university was so relaxed recently #when I have too much free time I just do the Sims 3 100 baby challenge over and over #but yesterday I finally went to the professor who I thought had lost my paper!! do you remember?? #turned out that it was in his g folder the entire time #he said that the g stands for 'not read' #in german language it does not make sense either but he was so nice and sweet and apologized a lot and then I apologized a lot and then he s #aid that he liked foxes and I said I also liked foxes and he is the nicest professor ever #years ago we had baby foxes living in the field in front of our house that was awesome c: #there also was a swan once but they are mean #too powerful #too many teeth #And I cleaned up my desk #drawers yesterday and found so much old art and for some reason when I was 13 I exclusively drew girls with cabbage heads #there also was a terrible poem about a girl with a cabbage head #was mostly about how she was sad about having a cabbage head

[scabopolis]

Omg congrats on 600 followers! Honestly any fake dating with Jonah x Amy would be amazing, although I love number 44 and/or 48 on your Google Docs <333

This is my first Jonah x Amy fic and I offer two caveats: 1) I’m still not sure if there is a particular vibe people who read for this pairing preferring, so...here we are, and 2) I have only made it through 4x12 of Superstore but am pretty familiar w/ what happens the rest of the series. 

Prompt: “You know we’re not actually dating, so why did you propose to me in front of my family?” / “I’m sorry, I panicked.” --- Title: the scene of the complication Fandom: Superstore Pairing: Jonah/Amy Other Characters: My crippling insecurity writing for a new fandom, sleep soft mornings, dumbs being dumb (but, like in a cute way) Additional Tags: friends to lovers (or idiots to friends to lovers??), fake dating shenanigans, alternative universe where Amy’s HS pregnancy test was negative and she and Jonah met in college Word Count: ~2,100 ---

It started with a chance meeting ten years ago, and somehow it’s brought Amy Sosa here: awake in her childhood room with Jonah Simms beside her, sleeping off upwards of half a dozen tequila shots. Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised. She knew that day they met in the lecture hall that Jonah was a person who would make her life exceedingly more complicated. 

And ten years later, here they are, practically leaving complicated behind in the rear view mirror. 

(“What are two hopes and one fear you have for your first lecture on your first day of college?” the guy sitting to her right asks. 

Amy doesn’t answer at first but this stranger just waits for her, all blinking, bright eyes and freshman eagerness. It’s barely morning. Is this her life now? 

“Hope one,” she says, holding up a finger, “that I’d sit next to someone quiet. Hope two,” she holds up another, “that no one would talk to me before I managed to find coffee.” She holds up a third finger. “And this moment right here is what I feared.” 

For some reason, her shortness delights him. His smile is open and affectionate, and he nods in appreciation. 

“Noted.” 

And Amy fully intends to never speak to this wide-eyed panda boy ever again, but then their General Psychology professor informs the class that the person they’re sitting next to will be their assignment partner for the semester. 

The next lecture her partner – his name is Jonah, she learns – brings her a cup of coffee and doesn’t speak a word until she takes a long sip. 

Complicated.)

Jonah snuffles in his sleep, his eyelids fluttering slightly. His hair is doing that thing it does when he’s hot or drunk or has run a hand through it too many times, where a single lock of hair hangs in the middle of his forehead. Amy resists the very real urge to brush it away. Because, yeah, she has those kinds of thoughts a lot and they also make things complicated. They’re friends. Maybe even best-friends, but definitely not ‘tenderly brush a lock of your hair away’ friends. 

Do those kinds of friends even exist? 

Jonah stirs again, and now that it’s clear he’s actually waking up, Amy reaches for her phone and opens Candy Crush. The last thing she needs is to get caught staring at him like some weird stalker.

“Oh, god,” he groans, his voice scratchy. He stretches out with another groan, his foot bumping against Amy’s as he does. Rather than move away, he kind of just rests it there on top of hers. And this is something she is all too familiar with. Drunk and/or hungover Jonah is yet another complication. More accurately, his propensity to cuddle indiscriminately is a very real complication. 

“I need—” Amy reaches for the glass of water on her night stand and hands it to Jonah, stopping him mid-thought. “Do you have—?” She hands him two ibuprofen. “Thank you,” he says. 

“You’re welcome.” She looks back at her phone. 

Jonah swallows the two pills and drinks the entire glass of water, and then lays back down, curling slightly into Amy’s side.  

“I made so many mistakes last night,” he says.

“I’m aware. As are your 80 Instagram followers.” 

“I liveblogged it?” 

“And tagged everything with the hashtag ‘best noche ever.’” He groans again and turns his face into Amy’s side. She sets her phone back on the nightstand. “What got into you?” 

“Your dad is intimidating.” 

“My dad?” 

“Yes. Your dad. And then he and your brother kept pouring me shots—” 

“I knew this had Eric’s fingerprints all over it.” 

“Well, it was kind of my fault, too.” 

She frowns. “What do you mean?” Jonah doesn’t answer and Amy kicks him under the covers. He looks up at her. His eyes are red-rimmed but also so sleepy and soft. Complicated. “Jonah.” 

“They kept asking me questions. About you and me. And I was so worried I’d say something wrong, I kept taking shots to avoid answering.”

“You could have found me.” 

“I know, but—” he trails off. 

“But what?”

“I want them to like me.” 

“Oh, Jonah.” She gives in and brushes the lock of hair off his forehead, and he looks up at her. “They’ve known you for 10 years. They’re never going to like you.” 

“Thanks, I feel so much better.” 

“I do have one more question.” 

“Okay.”

“You know we’re not actually dating. Right?” 

He closes his eyes and nods. “No. Yeah. I know.” 

“So why did you propose to me in front of my family?” 

“I panicked.”

“Panicked?” 

“Your dad asked what my intentions were, and there were just so many shots. 

“And that’s why you shouted ‘I intend to marry her!’?” 

Jonah flips the comforter over his head. “I just got wrapped up in it all.” His words are muffled from under the comforter.

She’s glad for the moment of respite, with Jonah unable to see her. If Amy didn’t want things to careen so off track, she probably shouldn’t have agreed to let him come to her dad’s retirement party as her fake boyfriend. 

(“I don’t see what the problem is,” Jonah says, spooning more cashew chicken onto his plate. “You don’t still have feelings for Adam, do you?” 

“No. No. God no,” she says. “Absolutely not.” 

“Alright. I’m clear on the no.” 

“It’s just the last time I saw him— Well, you know.” 

“I recall, yes.” 

And he does. Jonah knows all about Amy’s high school boyfriend. The one she liked but never quite loved. The one she broke up with when the pregnancy test came back negative. The one she slept with again the summer after their senior year of college. 

(An event that occurred in no small part because Jonah was dating Mindy and the two of them were talking about moving in together. Maybe moving to the west coast together and Amy realized there was a very real possibility she was going to be left behind. 

Jonah doesn’t know that part of the story.) 

Adam is also the guy who thought having sex in her childhood bedroom meant Amy wanted to get back together. He’s the guy bringing his very beautiful fiancée to her dad’s retirement party. Because he’s also somehow the guy who still helps her dad with home improvement projects. And Amy is just Amy – the one who doesn’t visit St. Louis enough, and is using her very expensive liberal arts degree to work as a survey researcher for Cloud9, meaning she’s basically paid to manipulate shoppers. 

And, not that it should matter, but she’s also very single. Has been for a while now. 

She mostly blames the man stealing chow mein from her plate for that. She blocks Jonah’s chopsticks with hers, and a piece of cabbage goes flying. 

“Stop that,” she says. 

“You’re not eating it.” 

“I’m too annoyed to eat.” 

“If you only ate when you weren’t annoyed you’d starve.” 

“I hate you.” 

She pushes the chow mein around her plate. God, when she thinks about it, this really is Jonah’s fault. If she could just find a way to get over this stupid, dumb, little crush that has creeped up – without her permission, mind you! – then maybe she could actually—

“I could do it,” Jonah says, interrupting her thought spiral. 

“Do what?” 

“Go with you to your dad’s retirement party. Be your fake boyfriend.” 

“You think that’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s a great idea. Besides, I am very close to getting your dad to like me.” 

“He’ll never like you.” 

“It’s not that I didn’t like the painting—” 

“—How would this even work?” she asks, cutting him off. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “I think we act like we normally do, but maybe you can hold my hand and be nice to me.” 

“Eww.” 

Jonah smiles around a large bite of cashew chicken. She really needs to stop hanging out with him so much – he’s become immune to her insults. It’s rude. 

And him as her fake boyfriend is a terrible idea. Truly awful. If Amy is looking to get over her crush and make things between her and Jonah less complicated, there are better ways to do it. 

Except. 

Except she kind of wants to. 

“Okay. Let’s do it,” she says. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes,” she says decisively. “But if you try and kiss me, I’ll cut your lips off.” 

“That seems like a proportionate response.”)

“So, to be clear, I told you kissing wasn’t allowed, and you thought that left proposals on the table?” 

He groans again from under the comforter. It’s a little sad and a lot pathetic. Poor guy. 

She pats the comforter in the area of what she hopes is his shoulder. As annoyed as she is at having to untangle these threads, it’s not his fault. Not really. She knows her family is relentless. Amy slides down and flips the comforter over her head as well. 

Jonah rolls over onto his side to face her. Amy does the same. 

“It was better than Adam’s proposal.”

“Adam proposed?” 

Amy nods. “Ish. If I remember correctly he said, ‘I’ll marry you if I have to.’”

“Yikes.” 

“Right?” It’s cozy under this blanket. Intimate even. “You did say some nice things. Even if they came out kind of slurred.” 

“Amy—”

“Sexy, huh?” 

“I really didn’t mean to shout that to all of your dad’s—”

“Because it’s not true?” 

“No!” Jonah winces and Amy isn’t sure if it’s ‘I have a hangover’ induced or ‘I am revealing too much’ induced. “It’s true. Of course it’s true. You are very, you know.” 

“Sexy on a completely objective level? Or, are you saying that you, yourself, Jonah Simms, think I’m sexy?” Jonah goes completely still. Amy isn’t even sure he’s breathing. It’s entirely uncharacteristic and a little unnerving. She pokes his cheek. “Are you blushing?”

“Big time, yeah.” 

That does enough to break the tension under their blanket enclave, both of them laughing, at first awkwardly and then more genuine. Once they stop to catch their breath, Amy notices they’ve shifted closer together. 

This would be the perfect moment to flee from the scene of the complication. But the complications don’t seem so terrible at this specific moment. She blames that lock of hair of his.

“How long have you held this opinion?” Jonah frowns at Amy’s question. “Regarding my sexiness?” she clarifies. 

“Amy—”

“What?” 

“What are you doing?” 

“I just want to—”

“Really? You really want to have this conversation?” 

Jonah stresses the ‘you’ and Amy knows why he does. There isn’t a topic or feeling that is off-limits to Jonah – he’d happily discuss every feeling he’s ever had. It’s her. It’s always her. 

Their faces are so close they’re practically sharing the same pillow. It takes no effort at all for Amy to close the distance between them, lightly brushing her lips against his. As quick as it began it’s over, and even in the dim light under the comforter, Amy can see Jonah’s eyes blown wide. She’s sure she looks just as shocked and she’s the one who did it.  

“You said if I kissed you you’d cut off my lips.”

“Which is why I kissed you.”

“Oh,” he nods. “Makes sense.” Jonah taps out a slow but erratic rhythm against the side of his leg. She just knows he’s trying to stop himself from verbalizing every single thought in his head. “To be clear, was that a friendship kiss, or—” 

So Amy kisses him again. This time Jonah recovers quickly from his shock, winding a hand into her hair, his palm cupping the back of her head. It’s just unbelievably good. 

“Okay,” Jonah says, his voice unsteady as he pulls away. “That answers that.” He traces her jaw with his thumb. “Any chance we could do it some more?” 

Amy rolls onto her back, putting some distance between them. “I don’t think so.” 

“Wait. What?” 

“Your breath is awful.” 

Jonah breathes into his hand and sniffs it to confirm. “What if I brush my teeth?” 

Amy sighs, long and exasperated. “I suppose that would be—”

Jonah is out of the bed in seconds, scrambling for his overnight bag, and Amy presses her lips together to hide her smile. From the way Jonah smiles, soft and delighted as he backs out of the room, she isn’t fooling anyone. 

So far past the point of complicated, she thinks, her heart still racing. But then again, maybe complications that make her feel like this are okay.

#simmosa fanfic #superstore fanfic #jonah x amy #jonah simms #amy sosa #amy dubanowski #I hope you like it anon! #first fic for a new fandom is always the most nerve wracking! #why is that? #p: jonah x amy #c: jonah simms #c: amy sosa #tv: superstore #otp: fresh start #Anonymous #never stories

[lupinlongbottom]

Practically a Weasley Epilogue

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: Little Kayda has finally finished her seven years at Hogwarts, much to the cheer and delight of her parents, Charlie and (Y/N). Her future is crawling near, if only her parents knew what it could possibly hold.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is mostly centered around Charlie and his girls, I will make that clear. The reader is there, and she’s important, but I wanted to highlight their daughters, as this is an Epilogue. I hope you all enjoy their three tornadoes angels as much as I do. Enjoy!

Part 1 … Part 1.5  …  Part 2 … Part 3

__

The end of the school year finally came, leaving many Hogwarts students to come home for the summer holiday. For some, this was their first year at the school for young witches and wizards, eager to share their stories with their families. For others, it was their final trip from the platform, until they choose to have kids of their own to see off. Regardless, the reunion of the various families on the platform at Kings Cross was a warm one.

“Dad…” Kayda moaned, trying to wriggle herself from Charlie’s grip. No luck.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” Charlie exclaimed, hugging his daughter tighter. “Missed your birthday, two weeks ago! Consider it a late birthday present.”

“I’m eighteen now, I don’t need to be coddled at the platform,” Kayda sighed, patting her dad’s back. After finally wriggling herself free, Kayda nodded at her friends passing by, snickering at her father’s bear hug. “You can hug me more at home.”

“I plan on it,” Charlie beamed. Coming from the other end of the platform, (Y/N) walked between two redheaded girls, identical in their freckled face, both pushing their respective carts. “I see your mum found your sisters. Why didn’t you sit with them?”

“I sat with them at the beginning of the year,” Kayda shrugged. “I offered for them to sit in my compartment, but they said they had their own friends now,” she looked up, noting the presence of her sisters and mother. “Hey, mum.”

“Kayda,” (Y/N) said, tears glistening her eyes. “I know you probably don’t want a hug right now,” Kayda gave her dad a pointed look. Charlie smirked, shrugging. “But know that I’m so proud of you.”

“What about us?” the twin wearing a Slytherin scarf retorted, eyes turned downward, almost sad.

“Yeah, aren’t you proud of me and Harper?” the other added.

“Ellie…” Charlie sighed. “You know we’re proud of you two, but Kay just finished her schooling. It’s a big deal.”

“Well we just finished our first year. Big deal all around!” Ellie exclaimed, crossing her arms. “Besides, Kayda didn’t get to do hardly any of the fun stuff we did.”

“Like what? Going into each other’s common rooms? Wearing the other’s uniforms?” Kayda laughed, mirroring her sister’s stance. “I know you two switched. Often, at that.”

“You two did what?” (Y/N) asked, glaring at her twin daughters. “Harper? Ellie?”

“Come on mum,” Ellie laughed. “You really think that we wouldn’t try it? Harper’s in Slytherin, I’m in Gryffindor. It was bound to happen.”

“Ellie!” Harper hissed. “I thought we weren’t going to tell mum and dad!”

“Did you ever get caught?” Charlie asked.

“No,” Harper admitted. “Well, I guess Kayda knew, but she’s our sister, so…”

“Nice,” Charlie said, lifting his hand up, ready to give his daughters high-fives. (Y/N) grabbed his wrist, bringing it down.

“Charlie!” (Y/N) said, glaring at her husband. “I guess it’s not the end of the world. I should’ve known the two of you would’ve pulled something like that the second we heard you two weren’t in the same House.”

“I’m sorry, mum,” Harper said, her hands gripping her cart a bit tighter. “But on the bright side, I grew to like my House a bit better, even after everyone made fun of me being a Weasley!”

“Yeah?” (Y/N) smiled, noting the way her daughter’s blue eyes lit up. She had been worried about this very thing. Not every day a Weasley gets put into Slytherin House, is it? “How so?”

“Conrad has been hanging out with me in the common room and helping me study,” Harper said, smiling lightly. “He’s been keeping the bullies away too!”

“Conrad Lee? Barnaby’s son?” Charlie asked, crossing his arms. Harper nodded. “He’s a nice kid, coming from his parents it was bound to happen,” Charlie laughed, recalling the Magizoologist and his Curse-Breaker wife, close friends of his from his time at Hogwarts. “I figured he’d look out for you.”

“He only did that because Kayda asked him to do it,” Ellie said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t know how, seeing as they snog more than talk—”

“Ellie!” Kayda exclaimed, slapping her sister’s arm. Ellie winced for just a moment, fully prepared for the slap she received. “Shut it!”

“Don’t be embarrassed, Kay,” (Y/N) laughed, the panic on Kayda’s face not fading. “Conrad’s a nice boy. His mum and dad raised him well,” she smiled, patting her daughter’s back. “You’ve always got off well with him whenever they’d come to visit. Playing around in the dirt and whatnot.”

“Isn’t he a year younger than you?” Charlie asked, eyes pointed at Kayda, crossing his arms.

“Don’t you and mum have like five years between the two of you?” Kayda retorted, mirroring his pose.

“She has a point, Charlie,” (Y/N) laughed. “Enough of this idle chatting! We have a portkey to make if we want to get back to the cottage in time,” She pushed the twin’s backs, pushing their carts forward.

“You just don’t want to be stuck chatting with the entire family,” Ellie yawned, slowing her pace.

“I talked with Harry and Ginny, James just got done with his second year,” (Y/N) scoffed. “Your father caught up with Bill and Percy with their girls, too. We’re seeing Fred and George for dinner, we’ll be chatting with them then.”

“I don’t buy it.”

__

The warm glow of the kitchen radiated throughout the cottage. After Charlie and (Y/N) received the news of their, rather unexpected twins, the two moved to the Romanian countryside. It was farther off from the sanctuary, so Charlie had to either Apparate or take his broom, usually he chose the latter, enjoying the quiet moments of the morning rolling through the valley from up high, wind in his hair.

“Dad, should I take the pie out of the oven?” Harper asked, staring at the light brown crust intently.

“No,” Charlie hummed, pushing his sleeves up. He continued chopping the onions. “Shut the oven door, Harpy.”

“Sorry,” Harper said, gently shutting the door. Her fingers traced over the handle for a brief moment. “Do you need any help?”

“Blimey, I thought you’d never ask,” Charlie laughed, tilting his head at the aprons hung on the wall. “Grab your apron, kiddo.”

“Mum’s soup recipe?” Harper asked, tying the red apron around her waist, enjoying the feeling. She always liked helping her father out in the kitchen, ever since she was young. Molly often noted how her knife skills outshone those of her father, bringing much pride to the girl.“I can cut the carrots—”  

“No carrots,” Charlie said, sternly.

“Right, sorry dad,” Harper giggled. “I quite like the carrots in this soup though. Mum added them whenever you were out for work…”

“Well I’m here right now,” Charlie huffed, pushing the onions into the simmering pot on the stove. “You can chop the cabbage. Speaking of your mum, is she still helping your sister pack?”

“Yeah,” Harper nodded, eyes focused on her knife. She hadn’t had much practice at school, only using the skills in Potions class. “Why are you letting her move?”

“She’s an adult,” Charlie shrugged, stirring the burbling pot. “She said that she got a job and plans on moving this summer to start it. Still hasn’t told us the job… but she said she’ll tell us tonight.”

“Aren’t you going to miss her?”

“Of course I am,” Charlie said, washing his hands. “You, on the other hand, aren’t allowed to move out. Ever.”

“Dad!” Harper giggled. “I don’t want to move anyway. I missed the dragons terribly enough when I was at school.”

“The dragons missed you too. Well, I can only imagine. Can’t speak dragon. Harriet seemed rather glum, though,” Charlie clicked, drying his hands off with a towel. “Wait until third year,” Charlie mused, crossing his arms. “Care of Magical Creatures is going to blow your mind, kiddo.”

Charlie loved all of his daughters equally, so he said, but the connection he had with Harper was undeniable. While Kayda took much after her uncles—to Charlie’s dismay—and Ellie took after her mum—to an extent, the lip on that girl was unquestionably a Weasley trait—Harper took most after Charlie. She adored creatures, dragons especially. He would take her to the sanctuary whenever she asked, from a distance, per (Y/N)’s request. She was soft-spoken, hardly the one to lead her siblings, but her heart was bigger than her mouth.

“I can’t wait!”

“Can’t wait for what?” Ellie asked, throwing herself onto one of the kitchen chairs.

“To learn something I’m genuinely interested in,” Harper said, finishing her cabbage. She silently looked at Charlie, who nodded. “I mean, I like Charms and Potions, but I have a feeling Care of Magical Creatures is going to be a good one.”

“Well, I like Herbology—”

“You like Professor Longbottom’s face,” Harper snickered, pushing the cabbage into the pot.

“I never would’ve pegged you for the Herbology type, Eleanor,” Kayda smiled, walking into the kitchen. “Smells good, dad.”

“Shove it! Both of you!” Ellie exclaimed, her face growing pink. She tapped her nails against the counter. “I-I just think he’s a good teacher, that’s all.”

“He’s married you ninny,” Kayda said, flicking Ellie’s forehead. “Or did you not pay attention to the way he stares so sappily at the Potions Professor?”

“Wait, that’s his wife?” Ellie asked, rubbing her now red forehead. “They don’t have the same last name, though!”

“It’d be confusing to have two Professor Longbottom’s, wouldn’t it?” Kayda laughed. “She uses her maiden name for teaching at school. Her last name’s still Longbottom, though.”

“How do you know?” Ellie spat, voice dripping with venom.

“I took her N.E.W.Ts level class. Hardly a big class,” Kayda shrugged. “Always willing to chat with us, especially if we’ve done well in lesson. You never would’ve stood a chance, you’re nearly twelve.”

“I know,” Ellie huffed, the realization dawning upon her.

“Charlie,” (Y/N) said, stepping into the kitchen. “Oh, everyone’s here. It’s been a while since the kitchen was this full…”

“Flower, don’t start crying again,” Charlie said, wrapping his arms around his wife. “If you start crying, I’ll start crying.”

“You two are a bunch of saps,” Kayda laughed, noting her parent’s glistening eyes.

“Yet, you came from this bunch of saps,” Charlie laughed, kissing (Y/N)’s temple. “Think about that.”

“I try not to think too deeply about it,” Kayda said, rolling her eyes, fighting back a grin. She missed her parents, no matter how disgusting their lovey-dovey nature may be. “What time are Fred and George coming?”

“Any minute now,” (Y/N) said, glancing at the clock. “Fred said they’d Floo here by six—”

“Did someone say my name?” A voice bellowed from the living room.

Kayda’s eyes lit up, a grin spreading to her face. “Uncle Fred!”

“Hey there, partner,” Fred winked, pulling his niece into a side hug. “Hi (Y/N). Hi Charlie.”

“Glad to see you still don’t pick favorites,” Charlie smiled, nodding at his brother.

“We could never, Charlie. Just because we like our little Kay-Kay better than the two of you doesn’t mean we pick favorites,” George said, entering the conversation. “Honestly, you’d think our brother would know us better.”

“No, not at all,” (Y/N) laughed. “Where’s Angelina? Or the kids?”

“Get this,” Fred moved his voice to a small whisper. “Dragon pox, the both of them.”

“Fred’s lying,” George laughed. “Mine’s at his mum’s this week,” he shrugged.

“You’re right,” Fred sighed, taking off his bright orange jacket. “Angelina wanted to spend more time with our boy now that he’s home from his first year, much like Harper and Ellie. Nearly bit my head off when I told her I was coming here tonight instead.”

“They’ll all be sorely missed,” (Y/N) hummed, glancing at the large pot on the stove. “Though, had you two told me, I wouldn’t have made so much soup—”

“You didn’t make the soup, dad did!” Ellie pointed.

“And I helped!” Harper added, crossing her arms.

“You should’ve never had more kids, mum,” Kayda laughed. “Little snitches, the both of them.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying for years,” Fred agreed, placing his arm around Kayda’s shoulder. “One and done. Angelina and I listened to it. George had no choice, poor girl broke it off with him after their little one was born—”

“Honestly, Fred? Pipe down,” George said, growing annoyed. George never liked talking about his ex-girlfriend much. They had dated for a few years before she became pregnant, but they split a year after their son was born.

“Please,” (Y/N) scoffed, trying to diffuse the situation. “You two were beyond thrilled when you found out that Charlie and I were having twins!”

“We thought you’d name them after us!” George exclaimed, falling wistfully onto a dining chair. “But then you had more girls, what a waste of perfectly good names!”

“Technically they did,” Ellie said, groaning. “I’ve hated my middle name as long as I can remember.”

“I quite like mine…” Harper said, voice growing small.

“Your name isn’t ‘Eleanor Frederica’, Harper. All my friends have normal middle names, but no,” Ellie pointed at Charlie and (Y/N). “You had to make my life hard!”

“Ellie,” (Y/N) sighed. “Middle names aren’t the end of the world. Be happy you’re named after two of the coolest people on this planet.”

“Gross,” Ellie groaned again. “If you want to name me after someone cool, take a look at James! He has a cool name! James Sirius Potter, even the sound of it makes people sigh!”

“Ellie, we love your Aunt Gin,” Charlie said, glancing down, “but we’ve never been in real favor of their children’s names. A bit heavy handed, honestly.”

“When she told us the name of little Al, we nearly passed out,” George nodded. “Next year’s going to be a fun one for him, starting school with a namesake like that.”

“Having Frederica and Georgina is the least of your worries,” Fred laughed. “At least you,” he pointed at Ellie, “you got the better of the two.”

“I prefer Harper’s name,” George quipped, “sounds cooler, more hip.”

“Can we stop talking about my children’s names?” (Y/N) said, finally growing tired of the arguing. “Ellie, sweetheart, your name is fine. Fred, George, both of the twins names are equally sweet, be grateful that Charlie agreed with the idea.”

“It’s true,” Charlie hummed. “I wanted more dragon-related names…”

“I could’ve had a dragon name?!” Harper practically screamed, forcing her voice towards her parents. “Why does Kayda get one?”

“People don’t mispronounce your name,” Kayda retorted. “Never get ‘Kayla’ Weasley? Do you?”

“Oh my God,” (Y/N) groaned. “I wanted to have a normal family dinner, now my daughters are screaming bloody murder about their names—”

“Sounds like a normal Weasley dinner if I’ve ever seen one,” Charlie said, ignoring the bickering, the loudest coming from his three daughters. “Love, you knew full well what you got yourself into almost twenty years ago.”

“Hardly gave me a moment to think about it, didn’t you?” (Y/N) smiled, glancing up at her husband. “Pulled the rug out from beneath me that day.”

“Like you weren’t expecting it,” Charlie smirked. “I told you almost a year in that I wanted to marry you. Besides, you said yes.”

“I did. I don’t regret it,” (Y/N) sighed, glancing at her beautiful daughters, now arguing with their lively uncles. “How could I regret this?”

__

“The soup was great Charlie,” (Y/N) said, dabbing a napkin on her lip. “Harper, you did a great job helping.”

“Thanks, mum,” Harper smiled, feeling the pride well in her chest.

“Fred? George? You two have been awfully quiet,” Charlie said, noting his brother’s unlikely silence, “what’s up?”

“Well…”

“Actually…”

The twins looked to Kayda, who still had a spoon in her mouth. All of the Weasley’s eyes fell to her, watching as she fumbled with the silverware.

“Oh,” Kayda said, fumbling with her hands. “Do you think…?” She looked to her uncles, as if for permission. Fred nodded, George merely winking. “Well, I suppose,” she stood, seated at the foot of the table. “So, I’ve accepted a job—”

“We know,” Ellie sighed, twirling her spoon against the table. “You’ve only been talking about it the last month of school…”

“Eleanor,” Charlie hissed, eyeing his daughter. “Let your sister speak.

“Sorry,” Ellie lied. She hardly was sorry about anything.

“Anyway,” Kayda said, scowling at her younger sister for a moment. “So you know Zonko’s, in Hogsmeade? I’ve accepted a management position there—well, not at Zonko’s, I wouldn’t work there,” Kayda paused, flushing over her words. “I mean, I wouldn’t not work there, but I’ve been working at Fred and George’s place the last few summers and holiday breaks, a-and they’ve offered to buy out Zonko’s and—”

“Spit it out!” Ellie cut Kayda off again, growing more annoyed.

“Alright!” Kayda exclaimed, slamming her hands onto the table. “Fred and George are opening a branch of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes in Hogsmeade, in the old Zonko’s shop, and they’ve asked me to be the manager, want me to run it.”

“Kayda, that’s wonderful!” (Y/N) said, clasping her hands together. She looked to her brother in-laws. “You’ve always wanted to buy out Zonko’s, why now?”

“Well, we finally have our little prodigy out of school,” Fred looked to (Y/N). “Seeing as you lot wouldn’t let her drop out early, much like her successful uncles—”

“Who turned out to be quite the entrepreneurs despite it all…” George added.

“I wasn’t going to drop out, mum,” Kayda said, assuring her mother. “It seemed like a good time, me fresh out of school, ready to take it on.”

“So you’re running it on your own?” Charlie asked, eyeing his daughter down, a bit of hesitation in his voice. “All by yourself?”

“We’re going to let her do as much as she wants on her own, but we’re always a call away,” George said, fiddling with his spoon. “She’s already come up with at least a hundred and ten new ideas for products and marketing—”

“All based on what a student is really looking for outta jokes and tricks these days,” Fred said, cracking his knuckles. “Gotta keep the products young and hip as we can, what better way than insight and perspective from a more recent former student? Considering the market is loads of Hogwarts students on their weekends off?”

“I suppose…” Charlie mumbled, looking in his hands. “Are you going to be living on your own?”

“Dad, I’m eighteen, I think I can manage on my own, especially in Hogsmeade. I found a little apartment to lease, it’s near the shop.”

“I’m sure Conrad’s going to be moving in after next year anyway…” Harper mumbled from her mother’s side, glancing at her half-full bowl of soup. She didn’t exactly have the appetite for it, all things considered.

“He’s thinking about it,” Kayda added. “We’ve talked about it.”

“Nope,” Charlie stood up from the table, pushing his chair back. “Nope, not happening. Absolutely not.”

“Charlie…” (Y/N) sighed, pressing her hand against her husband’s forearm, her fingers tracing a recent burn.

“Nope, not happening until I sit down with the Lee’s,” Charlie said, pacing lightly. “Maybe take Conrad down to the sanctuary…”

“Dad!” Kayda cried. “My boyfriend doesn’t need an interrogation!”

“Boyfriend?!”

“This is getting good,” Fred said, leaning into his brother’s good ear.

“Way better than what mum used to spout, Charlie’s a spittin’ image of her I reckon,” George added, leaning back in his chair, noting how red Charlie’s face was turning. The father and daughter continued to shout, much to (Y/N)’s dismay. Her head was in her hands, sighing loudly.

“See, mum? This is what happens when you let your daughter run wild with a Slytherin,” Ellie said, reaching over the long table to gain her mother’s attention. “Dad’s gone mental.”

“I’m a Slytherin!” Harper added, her cheeks growing pink. “What does that say about me?”

“You know I love you, Harper,” Ellie sighed, looking at her twin. “But Slytherin stinks. Your common room isn’t even all that neat, green is such a boring color and your Quidditch team sucks. Besides, a Weasley in Slytherin? How absurd! Half the Great Hall nearly lost their lunch at the sight!”

“Hey!”

It wasn’t long before the entire table was up in a roaring thunder, the youngest Weasley twins were bickering—like always— Kayda and Charlie were near a dueling stance over some boy, and the eldest twins just sat back and laughed at the continued horror. (Y/N) sat idly by, truly ignorant to her wishes of a functioning family unit. How long had she waited for a moment like this? Her family back together? Surely she didn’t expect her eldest and her husband going almost as far as a duel, she also didn’t expect her youngest daring to speak the few swears she picked up at school, either.

But, deep down, (Y/N) knew this was her ideal life, the one she had dreamed of years ago. A hearty family, filled with enough personality to go around thrice the time as normal. Her daughters were intelligent, bright and full of spunk, her in-laws were closer to her than blood would allow and her husband… Godric, her husband was more than she could’ve dreamed, attentive, loving and protective of their family—even if it was a sore subject in the moment, considering the environment. (Y/N) knew that the dream life she had planned was far from her reality, but she wouldn’t change it for the world. After all,

She was a Weasley.

__

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#charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley #harry potter #harry potter x reader #charlie weasley imagine

[natequarter]

you don't know how quickly i rushed here the minute i heard 'aang wakes up early au' indulge me please

the original details are here but i mostly talked about the plot in general so here’s more elaborated thoughts:

ursa is kind of a shitty knockoff of mai

she thinks she’s edgy and she has cool knives but unlike mai she has no idea how to use them

iroh is the equivalent of zhao + azula

except he doesn’t challenge anyone to agni kais

he also has a begrudging alliance with ursa 

she’s the mastermind behind 90% of their plans and you better believe if she wasn’t here iroh Would Be Dead Already

aang is not dating anyone in this universe because he’s twelve and everyone around him is like. 15 (kya) at the youngest

also he has to suffer through hakoda and kya being In Love >:(

i just realise that his meeting with ran and shaw would be completely different because iroh would not have ‘killed’ the last dragons so it’d probably be more like

aang: got any ideas on how to learn firebending if yours is uh... messed up

ozai: my firebending is fueled by DRAMA. i don’t know why it’s messed up

aang: that’s nice but where can i learn firebending???

ozai: we could look for a dragon?????

aang: that sounds lethal

ozai: you have the avatar state to protect you and if i die i die

aang:

they meet ran and shaw

v unpleasant experience for ozai. the dragons torch his beard

pakku is only in his forties and once he gets hit in the head with a boomerang by kya (a lot of people get hit in the head with a boomerang by kya) he kind of learns to shut up

jeong jeong is still in the army. rip

bumi is (slightly) less old and hakoda and kya both hold a grudge against him for trying to lock them up???? tf???? (aang eats the rock candy afterwards)

piandao is decidedly not in the army. hakoda ends up with two swords from him. nobody, including hakoda, is sure if he stole them or not

aang tries to teach ozai pacifism

‘treat people how you want to be treated’

‘killed without hesitation?’

‘no- ok treat people how they want to be treated?’

‘what if they want to be treated as supreme ruler of the world?’

aang: *banging head against the wall*

people are ageist to azulon

aang’s earthbending teacher is- actually i have a way funnier idea for aang’s earthbending teacher

long feng

who shows up, tries to kidnap him, then realises it’s the avatar and begrudgingly teaches him earthbending, never to be seen again

lao beifong is like the cabbage merchant except he keep on trying to scam the gaang

aang has no idea

azulon’s flames are blue and aesthetic shame about the dictator part

aang doesn’t get electrocuted! yay. he does get lightly crispified and stabbed tho :(

instead of the final agni kai or aang’s battle with ozai aang challenges azulon to an agni kai (with shirts on bc lbr nobody wants to see old zuzu shirtless)

he nearly dies but thankfully ursa poisoned azulon’s drink :-)

aang has a habit of nearly dying but it’s a damn good thing he doesn’t because his team avatar is two nonbenders and one fiery fucker who could not heal if they tried

anger-fueled bending? well have you tried DRAMA-FUELED BENDING?

poor iroh he spent like a week in the boiling rock and then his dad died. oh no how sad. (/s the colonialist is dead and good riddance) he even lost the throne to his sixteen-year-old younger brother who prefers coffee over tea! the audacity of that motherfucker!

#asks #aang #azulon #iroh #hakoda #kya #ursa #lao beifong #atla

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 166: The Dursleys Departing

Sunset sat like a giant tangerine on the cookie-cutter houses all neatly squared away in Little Winging, Surrey.

Peter landed in a litter box, shaking the flecks from his hair in disgust and apologizing to a tabby cat that was puffed up and hissing at him as he looked all around the cabbage smelling house. James had landed at the table and was brushing cake crumbs from his shirt with a sorrowful look for having it thrown on the ground along with a tea set as he offered him a hand up.

"Cheer up mate," Peter said quietly as James didn't even try to chase one of the cats around, didn't even make a joke about Padfoot showing up in here. "It's not like I'm moving to Australia."

"I know," he huffed as he gently picked up a particularly fat white one that did not want to be held and tried to scratch at him. He apologized as he let the cat fall back to the floor and it sprinted away to lick itself, but his goal was met and it wasn't blocking the door anymore. "I'm more annoyed than anything you're right, Padfoot and Moony literally haven't noticed or cared."

"Remus will notice eventually and kick himself for it," Peter shrugged. "You yourself said Sirius was already talking about doing the same thing."

"I'm just worried your life is going to get boring, only hanging around that little swat," he was mostly teasing, but he knew he sounded wistful.

"Maybe I'm looking forward to a little boring," he lied.

They frowned though and looked at the nearest window in confusion upon hearing a strange noise.

Remus and Lily landed in a young boys room, filled with dinosaur figurines. "Relative of yours?" Remus asked with a small smile as he picked up a homework binder with the name Mark Evans done at the top.

She picked up a baseball and spun it delicately in her hands as they looked around with a sad frown. "Oh I doubt it, both my parents didn't have siblings."

There was no noise of anybody else moving about in the house and both called out just to be sure before they set their things down and moved along towards the door.

Remus got there just slightly first and held it open for her. She gave him a casual smile and walked past, trailing her fingers along the pale wallpaper. "I wanted to ask you something," she said softly, peeking over her shoulder at him as she hovered in the entryway. "We're not exactly friends though, so you can tell me if it's rude and I'm sorry."

"Ask away," he assured, though he was already rocking back on his heels uneasily no matter how much he tried to sound otherwise.

"Your dad, um, well you've never said," she began uneasily but only shifted closer and gently touched him on the arm as she eased into her ignorance, "what kinds of things have you tried in the past? To know about whatever potions you're immune to?" It wasn't something she could really work on until they got out of this mess, but she was compiling ingredients in her head in the meantime anyways.

He actually burst out laughing that's what had her so ill at ease, and she gave him a tentative smile back as he brushed off, "the polyjuice potion mainly, stuff that doesn’t work on nonhumans broadly, the end results for my kind are pretty gruesome. We didn't find that out until we went looking for details of it this year though. Ah," he gave her an uneasy frown, but she kept watching him with nothing but curiosity, so he elaborated, "well, see, Snape tried to slip some Angel's Trumpet Draught into my drink one night, and it didn't work, so, we got curious and compared a few ingredients." He finished with a casual shrug to her disgusted face.

It was a poison meant to sprout wings from one's back, you'd slowly shed them and when the last feather fell you would fall into a coma until awakened with a very specialized tune keyed into the potioneer that had brewed it. Her stomach knotted terribly, but for once without surprise as she accepted that was just something Severus had been doing behind her back for years now.

She didn't apologize for him, just patted Remus gratefully on the arm and said, "yes well, I'm sorry you had to find out like that, but thanks for telling me. I really wanted to know though if your father happens to have some sort of list I could get my hands on, you don't talk about your parents much?"

She phrased that as a question so that he could brush that off if he chose to, she didn't have the best relationship with hers either.

"He wouldn't," Remus said quietly as he finally stepped out of the door, but glanced over his shoulder and waved her to still come along. "He travels all the time, doesn't have much to do with me, and my mums a muggle, hasn't a clue about any of this and doesn't try to very much." He paused on the first step and yawned, checking the skyline to see a hazy moon in the distance. Not quite full, even she could tell as it sat barely visible, but heavy enough he was very much on the pale side. “It’s ironic, he’s an expert on creatures, all but his own son.”

She finally stepped out of the house, closing the door with a gentle snap as they trudged slowly down the stairs. "I think you just described my parents," she sighed in commiseration. "He works politics, only home long enough to congratulate me on my schooling before going into his home office, and mother's always out attending or setting up parties with him if she isn't cleaning house and gossiping about the neighbors. Both have these, expectations for me, they think magic’s just a hobby and I’m still going to grow up to be just like my big sister. Mum’s lovely, she tries to spend time with me, but it's gotten worse the older I got, she just can't follow along, plus she never liked Severus so I didn't talk about him much. Petunia loves to go with them, but they're ever so dull, I can't stand them and rather stay home studying. They know everything about my life, and none of it."

"Absent," he quietly agreed now, leaning against the white picket fence and frowning around the empty street. "It's something the others don't get, James's parents are the best, Peter's mum is so sweet even I find it hard to believe, and well, you know Sirius, the less said there the better," he finished sardonically.

"It's like they had us and didn't quite get what they bargained for," Lily sighed as they smiled at each other for this miserable place. "I hope this is the last time Harry has to be here ever again."

"I do too," he said solemnly.

Both whipped around at the loud crash.

Sirius got whacked in the face by a porcelain doll that came away still clinging to him unpleasantly, and he pulled off the sightless eyes by the raggedy hair to see Alice crawling free of the closet full of neatly done up dresses in the most boring of colors.

A peek out the window through the closed curtains showed Harry's room next door though, he'd swear it, as Hedwig's cage sat on a desk, the snowy owl with her head under her wing just visible. Fairy lights sat strung all around the pastel walls and the comforter was brightest blue, he paused for a moment to smirk and imagine this girl had been his first crush.

He looked over to see Alice picking up and sniffing various bottles of perfume, and even spraying one she seemed partial to. "Have you ever tried to order Muggle things through owls?" She asked him casually.

"No," he admitted with his own pout as she pocketed it. "Though I am going to find out this summer," he promised without thinking, "remind me and I'll look into that for you."

He came over and picked up his own tiny vial, she didn't get the warning in time as he unscrewed it and got a nasty whiff of something.

"It's nail polish," she giggled as she held her hand out, taking the rest of the cap off and brushing a bit of the red paint on her nails.

"Oh, cool," he offered his hand back now and inspected it closer to his eye. They hadn't covered this in his muggle studies class. "Like a color changing charm for your nails? Muggles really come up with the strangest stuff."

"Too bad this stuff's technically banned at Hogwarts," she agreed as he gingerly set it back down.

"As if that's ever stopped me," he scoffed. "You could walk this right past Filch. Hell, I bet if you told him it was a poison and you were planning to use it on someone he'd smuggle it in for you."

"If he doesn't try to have you kicked out first," she agreed. "Frank tried to owl me some flowers before our first date, but he accidentally ordered the wrong ones, he swapped them for some sprout he needed to try his own potion. The shop sent me the message instead of him explaining the delivery owl got killed in flight for trying to eat them," she finished with a giggle.

Sirius didn't seem to find the story as funny as she still did. "Why do you like him?"

Underneath the bluntly rude question, Alice appraised him for a moment as she realized Sirius was legitimately asking for a reason he wasn't finding. She smiled and didn't really expect her answer to help him much as she said honestly, "I like listening to him talk. He's never made me feel dumb, smart as he is, and I can just sit there for hours hearing him explain everything. He's sweet and quiet, it's so funny how often he gets lost in his head. I just like being around him," she finished with a shrug.

Sirius huffed, not looking particularly impressed. She couldn't help scolding just a bit, "he's been trying with Remus, and you can't hold his first reaction against him forever, I can't imagine you were much better, with your shit parents."

"I know," he grumbled back. She'd been right, it hadn't helped him at all, he still just thought him a brainless git.

"Why do you need a reason to not hate someone?" She asked quietly.

He twirled a little butterfly bracelet around in his fingers for several moments before giving it a toss, watching in fascination as it landed on something attached to the ceiling, odd looking propellers. "Bad habits,"* he finally told her with a small smile. "I'm working on it." He whirled away to leave the house and she agreed it was more than time enough to go find the others and make sure nothing was going wrong, even in this non magical neighborhood, but as she turned back to pocket the bit of nail polish, she smiled to see it was now missing.

Then they heard the noise.

Regulus landed on a bush of hydrangeas and agapanthus and glared up at the vibrantly orange sky for several long moments before he sat up shaking petals from his hair. There was a horrid vroom noise that startled him to his feet, wand drawn, to see Frank falling out of one of those Muggle cars just idling beside him with a look of panic.

"I accidentally tapped one of those things near my feet," he explained as he sat gingerly back up and looked from the odd thing back to him like he had some answer. "Is it going to explode?"

"Don't look at me," he reminded, "where's Sirius when you need him?" Or even better Peter and Lily, the Muggle experts.

Both got uneasily to their feet and began slowly backing away from the still loud muggle thing, but neither moved past the house over as none of their companions were in sight. They didn't get long to freak out at least, as Sirius and Alice came out of the house beside them.

His brother immediately smirked at the sight of them watching it wearily of course, while Alice pressed her lips together to try and hide the same thing. "It's alright," she promised at once as she bravely stepped towards it and patted the hood. "Not going to bite, or take off I'm sure."

"I take it you two made it rev like that?" Sirius asked in delight, already climbing into the still open driver's door and fiddling with the knobs on the radio, but he didn't seem to be doing it right as all he got for his troubles was static. He started tapping the pedals with his feet, creating the same noise again, but couldn't seem to do anything else as the steering wheel wouldn't turn.

"Sirius," Regulus heard the whine in his voice and didn't bother to banish it as he imagined him back in that Knight Bus and also heading towards the Whomping Willow, they really hadn't had a good experience with these things. "Let's go find the others, please?"

"Oh fine," he pouted, toggling with a little stick on the side and still pressing the buttons with his feet making it occasionally rumble louder with every other step, "but when we find them I want-"

There was a massive roar, Sirius screamed himself as the car flew backwards right into number four with a massive crunch. A giant white pillow smashed into his face, his yelp of pain went unheard as all three shouted at him in surprise when he fell out of the now slightly smoking car. Something had fallen off the back of the machine, and some of the brickwork on the corner of the house had joined its carnage.

"I'm fine," he was already staggering to his knees even before he blindly grabbed hold of someone and hauled himself to his feet, shaking his hair out of his eyes and rubbing at his nose. "Bloody thing broke I think."

"You're insane," Alice told him as she fought off a laugh.

"It's fun!" He told her grandly as he released Frank and immediately began staggering around again. "I want to go again!"

"How have we not all died yet?" Frank groaned as he rubbed at his forehead.

"Luck and some mild skill," Regulus huffed.

The noise had thankfully attracted the others anyways, Peter and James jogging up from one end of the street, Lily and Remus from the other. All four made a fairly identical face when they took in the scene, and Remus immediately came forward to pop him on the back of the head.

"Sirius, you idiot," James told him more in exasperation than anything.

"We should just dub that his full name at some point," Peter rolled his eyes.

"Would someone please get the book and get us out of here," Lily groaned, Sirius was already getting bored with making exaggerated hurt expressions at his friends and his eyes were straying back to the car.

"No, no, I'll be good, I promise," Sirius blurted as Frank raised his wand. "We've got all this open space, let's sleep and get some food."

"I hate it when you make a good point," Lily frowned at him even as Remus gave an involuntary yawn of agreement.

Padfoot grabbed Moony and began towing him across the street, but James stayed in place and kept staring at the Dursleys house with an uneasy frown. "Prongs, you coming?" Sirius called over his shoulder as he hesitated in the street.

"Nah, you two go play house," he waved off, going over to the slightly squashed bush and glancing inside.

Sirius did not, he and Remus coming back over and watching him prod around the window in confusion. "Pretty sure he didn't break it so much it's going to collapse mate," Peter told him.

"I know," he pressed his hand to the glass, eyes focused on the blank television. "Just weird to see in person, all that shit we did really had no effect." He went to the front door and opened it, watching as if for the first time again as the door swung open and he stepped into the hallway.

The cupboard they'd all been squashed into and the chimney held no more fondness for them than Harry's long, miserable years in this place. The pictures of Dudley on the mantel sat as proudly on display as ever, the carpet as white and smelling of the same shampoo.

He had no more false illusions his son was going to be born if he was just hopeful enough Lily would fall in love with him, but then, shouldn't that erase these very books? Why had they not been bunted free of this madness if Harry's existence shouldn't even be in question, was it really all doomed to happen again?

"Think there's a horcrux in here?" Sirius asked with his own equal disgust as he stepped up beside him. "Place is as evil as mine."

"I can't imagine Voldemort orchestrating that," Remus corrected. "We could always burn it all down before we leave though, just to be safe."

James shook himself off and back onto the mat once more. "Tempting, but I want a bed where nobody kicks me for once first. I call the roof!" He finished in a loud yell and made a running jump to grab onto the gutters.

"And I bid you all goodnight," Sirius agreed, grabbing Remus's hand and pulling him back across the street once more, ignoring the obnoxiousness of someone turning the car off and the slight jangle of keys being pocketed.

"Please stay within shouting distance!" Alice called after them, which Sirius acknowledged with a vague wave.

"Would you like me to carry you over the threshold?" Sirius mocked as Remus yawned even harder up the walk.

"That's marriage you dolt," he sighed, "and I'm not faking this so you can subtly get me alone."

Sirius was well aware, but he was still hoping to have some fun as he pulled Remus blindly through the home. "Come here," he grinned as he squeezed his hand and led him to the bed. Remus watched, his eyes already dragging shut as Sirius encouraged him to sit down and then started dragging his knuckles up and down the inside of his thigh as he kissed him.

He tried, he really did as he kissed him back, but he had to pull back with an involuntary yawn that sent Padfoot into hysterical laughter.

"S-sorry," he stuttered as Sirius got off of him with a fond smile.

"Yeah, me too," he snorted as he gave him a little push, and he flopped onto the bed still yawning. "It's okay though, guess we can't always be in perfect sync."

Moony grumbled something incoherent about his asshole as he began rumpling up the covers and trying to get under them before he couldn't open his eyes again. Sirius was quick to help, but he was still asleep before they'd even folded them halfway back, literally falling into the pillows with a fistful still in his hand. Sirius sighed as he took his boots off, then his own as well as his pants at least before crawling in and at least enjoying one of his two desires as he shamelessly curled up to him.

Green water flickered in and out of his consciousness, fangs flashed like silver tearing into dark water and an inferus corpse with a horribly familiar face drained of life, but none of the images lingered as Remus hummed more in surprise than anything at the soft brush of lips teasing along his neck, the hand that was trailing up and down his leg like he'd never fallen asleep despite the fact he felt reasonably cognitiont proving otherwise. "Prongs must have liked me groping him much more than I thought," he muttered into his pillow.

Sirius snickered above him, his hand going dangerously farther up and in on his next pass through. "I've been delegated the task of waking you up now, believe it or not," he murmured into his ear before pressing a kiss there too. "Can't imagine why he didn't want to stick around for the show."

"You've been making one too many jokes about snogging me in public," he huffed, squeezing his eyes tighter shut and leaning into the warmth that he knew he was fixing to have to abandon. "I'm starting to get worried about your sanity."

"Well that ships long since sailed, so you have nothing new to complain about," Sirius grinned as he rested his head on his shoulder, but finally removed his hand from his thigh for the lack of response and began prodding him purposefully in the cheek. "Really though Moony, the others have been awake for ages, and I'm not missing breakfast for you, even I don't love you that much."

"My heart, it's broken," he grunted as he finally dragged his eyes open to glare up at him.

Sirius just pressed a quick kiss down before jumping free of the bed, already dressed except for his boots which he put on and was already doing an impatient dance as he sat up and still rubbed at his eyes. "Go on," he sighed. "I promise I'm awake."

He still didn't make to leave until he'd forced his feet onto the floor and finally did a little spin away, before completing the turn and jumping back to sit on the bed and watch him as he finally got up. "Sirius," he sighed, getting just a touch annoyed now, he wasn't going to crawl back into bed no matter how much he wanted to.

"I just wanted to ask," he started bouncing in place and looking all around the room with his usual energy like he was taking it all in again for the first time. "You're feeling alright now, right? I remember you saying you didn't want out of this before, but your sleep's been screwed up more than anyones, and I'm hoping you don't mean that anymore."

He froze with one shoe still off and just looked at him, touched beyond words. His hysterical rant had really disturbed Sirius apparently. "Yes," he promised. "I definitely am looking forward to being back at school and some bloody normalcy. Full moons once a month on schedule, the lunar cycle not screwing with me every damn time we reappear." Slipping his other shoe on finally, he stood and stretched before taking his hand and now pulling him up, to lean in and whisper, "getting to keep sharing a bed."

Sirius smiled and gave him another kiss, this one lingering and more promising, before pulling him out the door.

They found the others back at Mrs. Figg's, James and Alice already had a buffet of an assortment of food, and Lily seemed in heaven with all the cats around despite the very strong smell of the place leaving Remus still grumbling mutionasly. Someone had even gone to the trouble of releasing Hedwig, now perched on an antique wardrobe and hooting pleasantly down at all of them for her freedom as the last two helped themselves to some of everything and Remus began reading The Dursleys Departing.

At least Regulus was having fun while the others listened to Harry argue with his horrible Muggle relatives about going into hiding, he was wandering around the strange house with abandon.

Squib's were such odd creatures, he'd once watched Mum box Sirius around the ears for asking if they had any in their line. It was the most poorly kept secret in the castle Filch was one, and he was so awful to everyone he'd never questioned them much. It seemed a miserable life though, the more he inspected this home on the verge of magic but never quite able to touch it.

He listened to Harry say his last goodbyes to a family who had always hated him for his magical abilities and leave in such a bitter sweet way and couldn't imagine how awful that must feel.

"Mum would drown me for this," Sirius suddenly started cackling as he showed his mates something when Remus warned they were almost done.

"Hey Peter, how long until you stopped feeling so out of place at school?" He asked quietly.

He was watching Sirius with a very wobegon look; like him, seeming to think Sirius sure brought a lot of hell down on himself while James and Remus just laughed at the new odd smell in the room, but turned and answered him with a half shrug. "Little after second year started. I still ask stupid questions sometimes, but it was easier to listen and figure it out for myself most days after that."

"I don't think they're stupid," he corrected as he gave one last look around the house he could spend all day asking about.

"Then you should have been there when I asked James and Sirius if werewolves were real," he told with a sardonic smile, getting a laugh out of him as they were stolen away.

HPHPHPHP

*Sirius, honey, no. Biting your nails is a bad habit, you have deep trust issues and need therapy.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #HP #Regulus Black #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #James Potter #Peter Pettigrew #Lily Evans #Frank Longbottom #Alice Smith #Wolfstar #Jily

[wonkasmissstarshine]

The Chocolatier’s Rose {Willy Wonka x OC} Ch. 1

So this story was originally published on Wattpad, but I’ve decided to post it on here as well since some of you may not have an account on there. I want you guys to be able to enjoy it as well. There will be a tag list for this so if you enjoy the story, then you can ask to be tagged for future chapters.

GIF not mine. Credit goes to owner.

Summary: Rose Bucket is Charlie Bucket’s older sister. She works as a waitress at Mrs. Mason’s Magical Pies to earn some money for her family. She loves her family, she loves her job and she loves her boss. But what she doesn’t love is unwanted attention from her stuck-up “suitor”

A/N: Rose’s face claim is Lily James as Cinderella (for those who didn’t know that) so that’s why she’s up there.

Tagging: @holdmeicant​ @willymywonkers​

It was a normal day for Rosalie Bucket. She worked at Mrs. Mason's Magical Pies as a waitress. Rose loved working for Mrs. Mason. She was such a kind woman, whom often treated Rose like her own daughter, and even treated Charlie like her own son whenever he came in to wait for his sister. And she was always willing to let a pie go home to the Bucket family.

Rose always felt guilty for the fact that she never paid for one, but Mrs. Mason assured her that it was fine.

The Buckets weren't the wealthiest family in the world; they barely even got by. But, they had each other, and that was the most important thing.

A bell above the door rang, indicating that a customer walked through the door. Rose, who was in the middle of sleeping the floor, looked up to see that her brother had entered the small cafe.

"Afternoon, Charlie!" Rose greeted him. Charlie always stopped by after school to wait for Rose to finish her shift. They always walked home together.

Charlie smiled at his beloved sister. "Afternoon, Rosie" He took a seat at a table close to the big window.

Mrs. Mason emerged from the kitchen. "Is that my dear boy?" She said, her face covered in flour. Mrs. Mason grinned when she saw Charlie. She walked over to him and ruffled his hair. "Hello, dear Charlie! How are you today?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Mason" Charlie smiled at the woman. "How are you?"

"Couldn't be better, Charlie! How about a piece of pie?" Mrs. Mason always offered Charlie a piece. "I've got a nice piece of blueberry with your name on it!"

"Thank you" He said politely.

Rose smiled at her brother. "Make sure not to spoil dinner"

"I won't. I promise" Charlie said to her. Mrs. Mason brought the pie over to the table and set it in front of him. She even gave him a cup of hot chocolate.

"It's a bit cold out today. Thought you might like some" Mrs. Mason winked. Charlie thanked her yet again, and began eating the pie. He took slow bites out of it, savouring the warmth from the pastry.

Rose has finished sweeping, and was ready to move onto cleaning the dishes. It would be her last task for the day. She started scrubbing away at the dishes when Mrs. Mason approached her. "Rose dear, that boy is back and he's asking for you"

Rose wiped her hands on her apron and peered into the dining room. She saw a blonde haired man, around her age, sitting at the table with Charlie. That man was Harry Roberts. "Oh, Mrs. Mason, please get rid of him!"

"My dear, just tell the boy the truth" Mrs. Mason told the girl. "You don't love the boy, you barely even think of him as a friend. Why marry someone you're barely even friends with?"

Harry was quite smitten with Rose from the first day he walked into the cafe and laid eyes on her. However, the same couldn't be said for Rose. It wasn't that Harry was a terrible person, (although sometimes it felt like he was following her on occasion) it's just that Rose didn't feel the same way as he did. She merely saw Harry as an acquaintance, and besides, she was too busy with working and trying to provide for her family. She was lucky if she was able to buy a bread roll to eat with their cabbage soup.

And that's what brings us to Harry's many attempted marriage proposals. He knew very well of the Bucket's situation. Harry was always proposing the idea of marriage to Rose, on the basis that it would save her family. He also added the promise that her family could live with them.

But, Rose always refused. She didn't love the boy. Even though it would be good for her family, she didn't want to be stuck in a one-sided marriage. She didn't want to live with that guilt.

Mr and Mrs Bucket were aware of Harry's proposals. Rose would always tell them, "Maybe I should marry him. We could have a better house and we wouldn't have to live off of cabbage soup"

But her parents always assured her, "Darling, we don't want you getting married until it's with someone you truly do love"

Rose took a big sigh and stepped out of the kitchen. With a forced smile, she approached the table occupied by her brother and her suitor. "Harry"

Harry smiles up at the young woman. "Rose" He spoke her name softly. He grabbed her hand and brought it up to his lips. "I still can't get over how beautiful you look, even in your uniform"

Rose glanced down at what she was wearing: a blue dress, a white apron and her Mary Jane shoes.

By now, Charlie had finished his piece of pie. He watched the two people in front of him, but kept his eye mostly on his sister. He knew the smile on her face wasn't a genuine one.

"How can I help you, Harry?" Rose asked, just wanting this conversation over with.

"You know why I'm here, Rose" Harry's tone seemed to grow darker. The girl scoffed and turned around to go back into the kitchen. But Harry had grabbed her wrist with a tight grip.

"Harry, you're hurting me!" Rose yelped. He gripped her wrist with such force that she was sure a bruise or some kind of mark would be left. "Let me go!" Harry didn't.

That is until Charlie spoke up. "She asked you to let go" His voice was soft, but it made Harry let go. Truth be told, he just didn't want to seem like a monster in front of the boy.

Charlie looked up at his sister. He saw a tear run down her face. He reached up to wipe it away from her. Rose gave him a soft smile.

At this point, Mrs. Mason came out of the kitchen, waving a rolling pin around. "The girl told you to leave, so I think it's best that you go!"

"Y-yes, ma'am" Harry sputtered. He wasn't going to lie, Mrs. Mason scared him a little.

"And if I see you lay one more hand on this girl, I'll use this rolling pin to flatten you like dough. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry nodded once more before running out of the shop. Once he was gone, Rose broke out into tears. "Oh, sweetheart" Mrs. Mason cooed. She rubbed Rose's back. "I'll make sure he never comes back in here to bother you again" She looked at the young Bucket boy. "Would you grab your sister's coat from the kitchen? I'm sending her home early"

Charlie went into the kitchen. Mrs. Mason still attempted to comfort Rose. "And I'll send you home with another pie for your family"

"Oh, please, Mrs. Mason! I can't let you do that!" Rose pleaded with her. "I know business hasn't been what it used to be these days and I—"

"It's alright, dear" Mrs. Mason assured her. She made her way into the kitchen just as Charlie came out with Rose's coat.

"Are you going to be alright, Rosie?" Charlie asked as he helped his sister put on her jacket.

"I will be, Charlie. Thank you" Rose smiled at him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. "Mrs. Mason is letting us bring a pie home for dessert tonight"

As if on cue, Mrs. Mason came out with the pie. This one was cherry. "One cherry pie for the Bucket family" She gave the pie to Charlie. She then reached into her pocket and pulled out some money. "And buy yourself a loaf of bread. Something to go with that cabbage soup"

"Mrs. Mason, I couldn't—"

"It's alright, my dear"

Charlie gave an appreciative smile to the woman. "Thank you, Mrs. Mason"

"It's my pleasure, Charlie! Please say hello to your parents and grandparents for me, yes?"

"We will Mrs. Mason" Rose said. "Thank you" She grabbed Charlie's hand and the two of them left the cafe.

Mrs. Mason watched them walk away with a sad smile on her face. Her shop wasn't going to last much longer, and she knew Rose needed the money. Mrs. Mason didn't know what she was going to tell the poor girl.

And that Harry boy was getting more aggressive with each passing day. It wasn't going be long before he forces Rose into a marriage by physical measures. But the fact that he loomed Rose's poverty over her head, and tried to use that against her was bad enough.

But little did anyone know, that the Bucket's luck was about to change.

#willy wonka x oc #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #rose bucket #my oc #rose and willy #the chocolatier's rose

[fixxofvixx]

BLOODRIGHT - VAMPIRE JAEHWAN AU -CHAPTER 9

Hello! I finished another chapter!!!!! I had such a nice response from the last update that I felt so motivated to write! I was typing so fast, haha! Although I felt a little sadness because I thought the sneak peeks would get a little more excitement than they did, but it's okay.

I hope everyone had a lovely New Year's Eve. I am stuffed with the traditional food we usually have on New Year's day (cabbage, mustard greens, corn, black-eyed peas, fried potatoes, and cornbread) I've eaten way too much and will proceed to sleep for 12 hours (jk, too many kids running around for that haha)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and lemme know what you think! 💗

🧛‍♂️🧛‍♂️🧛‍♂️🧛‍♂️🧛‍♂️🧛‍♂️🧛‍♂️

When you woke, you expected to be paralyzed, nauseous, or in pain.  To your surprise, you just felt tired.  A feeling that was all too familiar for you.  Waking up at 2 or 3 in the morning and working on one thing or another until well after sundown was an everyday habit.

Almost immediately after you woke, there was a knock at your door.  You answered after checking if you were decent.

"Yes?  Come in."

The door opened and Jaehwan came into your room slowly.  As you rose from the bed  you took in his appearance.  He didn't look like his usual confident self.  He approached you and stood at the foot of your bed looking as a young boy would if he had just been in trouble and wanted forgiveness.

"How are you feeling?"  

"Strangely, better than I thought I would.  I just feel a bit tired."

"No pain?"  You shook your head and he nodded.  Then he opened his mouth to speak again but closed it soon after.  You could tell he was hesitant and you almost smiled.  You didn't want him to think you were laughing at him.

"Was….was there something else?" 

"I just….wanted to know how you felt….about me."

"You?"  He took a deep breath and continued.

"I wanted to check on your reaction to me feeding.  If you were mad, scared, sad, or all of the above."  His eyebrows furrowed as you stared at him in confusion.

"Why….I mean….what does that…"  You took a second to gather your thoughts. 

"You can tell me.  Remember that I won't get angry at you.  I just want you to be honest."

"I'm worried that no matter how I say this, it's going to come out awry.  I'm not any of what you said.  I'm not mad, scared, or sad.  But…."  He gestured for you to continue. "But what I'm confused about is why does that matter?"

"Why does it matter?!  What on earth is going on in your head?"  His face was a mixture of amusement and utter disbelief. 

"Don't misunderstand.  What I mean is...um...I'm just surprised that you were concerned about how I would be feeling.  I don't mean any disrespect!  I was just taken back by the fact that you asked.  But I'm glad you did.  It was a nice surprise.  Please don't misunderstand!"  You knew your cheeks now held a faint pink hue.  You looked down at your hands in your lap, unable to look at Jaehwan.  

"Y/N……" You never heard his heavy boots hit the floor but you saw him come closer to you out of your peripheral vision.  "Y/N, look at me."

You raised your head and saw his expression.  His face showed a slight scowl and you stared, froze, at him.  

"I want you to listen very carefully."  He leaned down, putting his hands on the bed resting on either side of your legs.  You leaned back a little due to the proximity.  "I know exactly what is going on inside your head.  So believe me when I say, you are NOT just a meal.  You are a person, my person.  I know this whole donor deal is as ancient as the mountains but that doesn't mean I think of you just as a plump rabbit ready for slaughter.  You have a place here.  You have a home here. I care about whether you are happy here. You need to promise to remember that.  Okay?"

You nodded and then a thought occurred to you.

"I-I'm not plump though, right?"  

Suddenly, Jaehwan started laughing.  Half of his body collapsed on your bed over top of your covered feet.  The vision he presented was so new to you that you couldn't help but smile.  His joyful expression caused a feeling in your heart that you vowed to make it your personal mission to make him laugh whenever you could.  

It took him a few moments to calm his laughter and then he straightened up.  He smoothed the blanket back over your feet.

"I'm sorry, I didn't intend to do that.  I just couldn't help myself.  And no, you're not plump at all."  He smiled and raised his hand to gently pat your head.  What surprised you, though, was that you didn't flinch when his hand came near you.  The thought alone almost brought you to tears.  You nodded and he backed away a couple of steps.  

For the next week, Jaehwan was your personal shadow.  He was there at your every turn.

"Do you want food?" 

"Are you tired?  Do you want me to take you to your room?"

"Would you like some water?"

Of course, you always said no, not wanting to be a burden but he did it anyway.  On more than one occasion, Penny had shooed Jaehwan away due to his excessive hovering.  

That was almost a week ago and now it seemed like a distant memory.  Everyone was busy running around to prepare for the banquet that would take place in four more days.

"Is there a lot to prepare?"  You sat beside Winnie, Penny's second in command and one of the few humans employed by Jaehwan, and helped fold the numerous napkins that would sit on the table.  You had assumed that they wouldn't need silverware and such since everyone's diet tended towards the liquid variety.  But, Penny assured you that the pomp and circumstance of a formal dinner was almost as important as what they actually ate.  

Soon, the guests would be arriving and that made you more and more nervous as you thought about it.  You were unfamiliar with the world of vampires.  You didn't know what their customs were.  

"Winnie?"

"Yes, Milady?"

"Just Y/N, please."

"Of course, Milady."  You sighed, knowing no matter how many times you told her to call you by your name, she wouldn't listen.

"Have you ever seen one of these...uh...gatherings?"

"No, I haven't.  Penny has decided not to allow the human staff to attend to the guests at the banquet.  We are being sent to the cottages at the end of the property as a safety precaution.  On the bright side, we have a week off of work and we will still be paid!  Oh, I shouldn't say things like that."

"Don't worry, I keep secrets very well."

"That doesn't really work when the master of the house is a vampire and he can hear your conversation from the other side of the gardens."  You almost screamed when you heard Jaehwan's voice in your ear.  You gasped and turned to see him directly behind you with a sinister grin on his face.

"Your Highness, please excuse my unacceptable behavior!"  Winnie all but melted to the floor as she went to her knees to beg for forgiveness.

"Well…..I suppose I could...on one condition."

"Name anything you please, Your Highness!"

"I would like to borrow Y/N, if you don't mind?  I will send someone else to help you."

"Oh, that won't be necessary.  We have mostly finished our part of the preparations.  Please take her.  I-I m-mean…."

"Hear that, Y/N?  You have wholeheartedly been sacrificed by your friend here."

"I didn't mean that, Your Highness!"  Winnie looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Winnie, he is only jesting.  Don't worry so much.  Go on and get."  Penny appeared from around the corner and waved him away.  

"I can go where I please."  Jaehwan stuck his chest out a bit and placed his hands on his hips.  Penny only rolled her eyes.

"Boy, we have work to do.  Y/N, if he gets to be too much trouble, just signal for my help."  Penny appeared from around the corner and waved him away.  

"And how would she do that?"

"Oh!  Penny and I have a signal.  We decided on it after…..Mr.  Timms came the last time."  You knocked on the wooden table in the pattern that you and Penny had created.  "That way, if there is no way for me to call for help, I can use this."

"I don't intend for you to be in such a situation again, y/n."

"I know.  But it doesn't hurt to have a back up plan, just in case."  You smiled at Penny, proud of yourself.

"Yes, you are right.  Come now, we need to go."

"Where are we going?"

"To greet the first guest."

#vixx #ken #jaehwan #jaehwan au #jaehwan fic #vixx fic #vampire jaehwan

[beautifulterriblequeen]

I’m really intrigued by Rayla’s moonshadow assassin peers. I especially am interested in Andromeda because I think she is the only other girl in the group? Do you have any headcanons in how these teen/young adult assassins interacted? Do you think Rayla isolated herself from them because she was always iffy about taking a life? Also TDP finally colored their map and I know you live maps, find any new cool stuff? I especially love how there’s a frozen sea north and a spinning sea south, imagine the powerful Magic’s that channeled to make them.

Okay, so I jumped straight to the map, did 80% of it, and wandered away for a few weeks. I apologize, anon. Let’s get this going again:

I’ve got a few headcanons on the Moonshadow assassins! It seems likely that they hang out mostly with each other, when they hang out, to reinforce their teambuilding and to give them some socialization, since assassins tend to keep others at arm’s length. So I kinda figure they tend to roam as a pack on their evenings out in the village, if they’re not married to a non-assassin like Runaan is.

I think that could be part of the reason that Rayla might not have hung out with the others as much, too: Runaan wanted to be either training or at home with Ethari, so Rayla probably spent a lot of time doing those things just because he did them. And when Runaan was doing more serious training or missions, that’s when Rayla had her free time to run around the forest and make adoraburr friends. 

Runaan could’ve probably insisted that she do something more assassiny with her free time. Shadow an assassin, do more studying, practice certain prescribed skills on her own. But he didn’t. He let her play. Soft assassin is soft!

Listen, anon, I have a fun headcanon for you about Andromeda--and by fun, I mean it’s really angsty half a second after you start thinking about it. Ready? 

What if: Andromeda is Runaan’s half-sister. If they’re both Lujanne’s children by different assassin dads who kept dying in battle, but a Moon mage needs an assassin leader partner to defend Xadia with, and Lujanne knew her son Runaan wasn’t old enough to lead yet, so she burned through three or more husbands protecting him until Runaan was well trained enough to lead the assassins himself and had fallen in love with a mage who adored him and would be his partner in her place.

 Andromeda looks a fair bit like Lujanne, too:

Along with Runaan, they all have long hair, side tails bound in silver cuffs, and some form of braids. Andromeda’s hair is sectioned in front similarly to Runaan’s. Her accent sounds more British than Scottish, though she only has the one line: My eyes for truth. And Lujanne and Andromeda are the only two Moonshadow elves we’ve met who have medium blue horns, while Runaan’s are dark blue. Almost everyone else’s horns have purple or pink as their base color.

But then, see, Andromeda went on Runaan’s mission, and she died. Her spirit was the most aggressive in TTM, usually closest to Rayla with her sword out, as if she hated Rayla the most. If she had a vested family interest in Runaan’s mission succeeding, and then it went pear-shaped because of Rayla, that would make sense.

No matter if she’s related to Runaan or not, she’s wearing horn cuffs, so she was in a dedicated relationship of some kind, and that’s so sad. Someone’s missing her the way Ethari’s missing Runaan. :’((((

Anyway, it’s just a headcanon, but since you asked, there ya go.

Okay, on to my thoughts on the map, of which I have a normal and healthy amount:

The Map Border: 

Everyone doodles in the borders. I love to see what they put there.

Starting in the upper left and going counter-clockwise, the five human crowns are cool

Cornucopia swirls center left look like an homage to Cabbage Man from ATLA

Bait is staring at Evenere. his home? Or maybe he just wants to eat the dragonfly on its logo

Human defender has a beard. Hairagorn. He's very heavily armored but has no helmet. Long hair is braided to rest on front of shoulder, like the blond elf in the painting at the Moon Nexus. Old timey hairstyle?

He’s defending Katolis Castle specifically. I wonder if the little white building is kinda random or if it’s supposed to represent the Banther Lodge. Nah, I have a better guess: that’s where Viren grew up

The crack in the map looks meta. It's been repaired somewhat. Makes me wonder if it's an in-world map, whose, who ripped it, and who fixed it. Sir Phineas Kurst seems like the kind of guy to almost shred his really cool map

The star behind Zym's egg has seven points

The two ships on the southern waters are western and eastern respectively. Tidebound elves from Singapore? Jack Sparrow would be proud

There is land just south of the Dragontail, wonder what’s there?

The leaves around the human figure are small and numerous while the Moonshadow elf has fewer but bigger leaves

The elf is standing in the way of one of the six leaves growing out of the rune rose and that leaf's curly tip seems to have been replaced with a curl of the elf's very long hair

The human pose is more offense and the elf pose is more defense. But the elf has two swords, and one has some wicked hooks in it.

Elf has 4 fingers instead of 3 so whether it’s in-universe or meta, they were drawn by a human :DDD

The elf's braid winds around their horn and I think that's clever

High collar shirt under protective layer, bracers and elbow gloves, bare biceps, complex shoulder getup, ornate hair that's butt long and partly braided, two long slightly curving swords... horn cuffs too. This is a Moonshadow assassin in the same gear Runaan's got, poised to defend the Xadian half of the map as the human is poised to defend his side

The rune rose isn't a compass. It has a two sided pointer and six primal runes. Just decorative I guess. ;)

More lettuces on right center.

Maybe a portaling caterpillar on the center knot? Little bug pal, I see you

“The Five Human Kingdoms” lettered in red, “Xadia” in blue. Giving me Stratego flashbacks. Even the flowers on their banners are color coded

Banners in the corners are similar but Xadia has more fluttery tips

Thunder drawn all attacky top center, does he have anything to do with the Frozen Sea being frozen?

Compass rose under Thunder’s wing

Dick island near the compass. Well, Duren is the breadbasket of the human lands. A most excellent cartography joke! 10/10 would chortle wholesomely again

The Human Kingdoms:

Neolandia

Capital Eboreus seems to be a lake city below a mountain and I'm here for all the Lake Town refs. 

It's also the eye of the elephant shape

Not a lot of trees, mostly grasses or desert. Only borders Duren across a couple rivers/estuaries/sea channels

Heart shaped island next to elephant trunk

Land generally broken into several sections by sea/rivers 

If it’s rivers, they seem to generate from the capital’s lake and flow in several directions. And they say there’s no magic left in the western lands! ;)

But if there was exactly one source of freshwater in a desert land, it makes sense that you’d find a way, magical or mechanical, to spread that lifegiving water in as many directions as possible so your people can thrive so kudos to Neolandia’s ancestors/Tidebound elves/whoever managed that, it’s brilliant

I can and will make up explanations for anything on a map. I adore worldbuilding

Del Bar

Two named locations. Since Del Bar’s national symbol is a serpent, I guess Serpentongue is the capital.

Hinterpeak is a sweet name. Looks like Helm's Deep with that retaining wall. What’s it for? Are there dwarves in this land? Is it an Earthblood stronghold? Maybe it’s like the Mines of Moria, and the Earthbloods were chased out and/or killed inside and now it’s full of nasty orcses but someone left a MacGuffin down there so *nudges hero* Off you pop.

Nice forests around the southern mountain range but northern DB is more arid or grassy lands like Neolandia. 

Considering that crops grow well in Duren, which is farther north, I assume there is a massive meteorological gyre over the human lands, with a southern wind blowing down over the western realms and keeping them icy until the mountains of Hinterpeak block and divert them, protecting Evenere. The winds don't blow eastward without warming right up-- and causing thunderstorms in Katolis how about that-- because there is a warmer side to the gyre over Katolis and Duren, blowing tropical warmth and moisture north and providing rain for trees and crops alike. Most years, anyway.

How does the weather fail in Duren for seven years in a row, anyway? That seems like a Thunder issue. Unless it’s a Sunforge issue, which I’ll get to below.

Ahem.

Borders Neolandia, Duren, and Katolis across rivers, but most border is coastline.

Serpentongue probably got its name from the two river heads around it

Cluster of dead little cracks spawns a single river. Looks like someone cracked the tub and it drained away. I wonder how much of this landscape has been affected by the Mage Wars. Big watery basins have flooded and other spots seem dead. The lands may or may not actually touch depending on how deep some of these waterways are

Evenere

Looks like someone punched holes in the land with a giant pencil to make it a separate island. Broken outline with scattered islands

That Pawprint Isles has only four toes

Moon-shaped island is very crescenty indeed

Are these isles home to refugees or outcasts from Xadia? Listen, I want pirates and that sea looks pretty Caribbean to me

No capital city, hmmm what's that about? Is it underground, does it move? Maybe Fareeda’s capital is on the back of a world turtle and she’s constantly on tour around the island?

That arm of land ending in a peace sign, please can we get surfers

The hills emanating from that claw shaped headland look like something is sleeping under the island, hello yes I am here for giant immortal creatures please

Katolis

its capital is also called Katolis, the only human realm to use the same name twice

Weeping Bay could be a ref to the tears the humans shed after they reached the west. Or the Moonshadow elves as they left their forest for the east. Or both. Both, in this case, is bad but balanced

Boomerang island next to the Dragontail

The river the Dragaang rode on was going uphill

The watery slash in the land between Katolis and Del Bar is awfully straight. So is the one between Del Bar and Neolandia. I call magical warfare.

Katolis has a bunch of mountains in the east, part of an old natural border before the lava one appeared

Mt Kalik is probably volcanic. It's a standalone mountain and it's really tall. Rex Ignius maybe? Oh, probably not, I think I see him peeking on the other side of the map

The trees of Duren and Katolis are different then the western lands. Softer green, deciduous. And the land itself is yellower, warmer in tone

Forests centered on Mt Kalik

The Moon Nexus looks like an eye on a dragon head near the Dragontail, and Evenere looks like a severed wing (Yes I am still wondering where Luna Tenebris went, why do you ask)

Weeping Bay looks like the most natural body of water in the western lands

Three red little trees scattered around the Katolis map. Fruit trees? How very Moonshadow.

Duren

The only land border among all the human kingdoms is between Duren and Katolis. Maybe it used to be further south along the river?

Capital is Berylgarten, set on a lake. Beryl is a stone that’s usually green, blue, or yellow in color, very gardeny

Second smallest realm but the breadbasket of the human lands. Has several little forests and great tilled fields

Being a farmer in Duren is probably as awesome as being an assassin in the Moonshadow Forest; you do what you do for all your friendly kingdoms

Northernmost land is cold and craggy, named Skall's Hook along the sea

Third ship in the Frozen Sea is icebound and crushed. Looks western, indicating no possible passage

Lots of colored trees and shrubs as if fruitbearing, I keep comparing Duren to the Yakima Valley in Washington State

Where the lava reaches the Frozen Sea, it melts the ice next to Duren's mountains

Northern Xadia:

Lux Aurea

Most of the center lands of this map has warm tones for its ground. Maybe that’s because of the long reach of the warmth and light of Lux Aurea’s Sun Nexus, and only the lands that are just too far from it are truly cold and icy. It would explain why Duren is a breadbasket realm so far north--it’s just across the border from Lux Aurea.

If there’s anything to that, then I suddenly worry for the fate of all the human lands now that the Sunforge has gone dark. It’s early summer now in Xadia, and crops in Duren will be ripening soon... Unless the sun’s magic was helping them grow. This coming winter could be rough. Next winter, people will die. Unless they can purify the Sunforge again.

Also, I have to wonder if Duren’s seven years of famine had anything to do with Sunforge shenanigans. They’d have happened at Khessa’s command, and we know she despises humans. If she was responsible for all the struggles that humans had to go through without enough food for seven years, and then their desperate attempt to fix the problem by invading Xadia for a Magma Titan’s heart which extended and exacerbated the war, I can see why Aaravos might feel Queen Khessa deserved to die

The city’s shaped kinda like an Egyptian pectoral necklace on this map, and that’s super pretty and not at all ominous

Also that’s a lot of gold for a whole city and I wonder how they got it all

The Shiverglades and the Shards

These areas are north of Lux Aurea and seem cold but not very icy, even though the Frozen Sea is right there. More thoughtful glances at the Sunforge over this one. Is it warming the land, or not warming the sea? Both?

Shiverglades is a play on Everglades, so this is a cold swamp, which sounds super fun I’m sure. Permafrost, tundra maybe?

The Shards seem to be rock islands with ice mountains. Glaciers are cool. 

I wonder if something broke those islands off on purpose. Have I mentioned how much I enjoy worldbuilding? Yeah, well, I like world-wrecking, too.

Storm Spire

Has a good view on everything that happens for miles, including Lux Aurea, the Midnight Desert, the Shiverglades, the Black Tundra, the Uncharted Forest, and Drakewood. 

Defensible position, no other tall mountains nearby

Also able to alert others to danger, especially since Avizandum could teleport like lightning

The Midnight Desert

It’s pretty big! And it looks like it’s littered with ruins of columns and dead palm trees. Like something else used to be in that great space and then something Very Bad happened to it. Maybe there was one great city where all the elves could mix together, and then it got utterly obliterated and the elves all fled to their respective safe places around Xadia. A city of black stone, back when Aaravos wore a crown? Now pulverized to dust and surrounded by not one, not two, but three primal nexuses? Hmmm...

All the wisps could be heat from the sand, or spooky spirit hints, or just an ominous sign of danger from the snakes below, but the overall effect is that the land is unhealthy if not cursed

The oasis is marked, and it must contain a spring since it runs a river out to join the river that passes through the Moonshadow Forest

Also the actual oasis kinda resembles a blue lizard which is adorable and probably also terrifying

Moonshadow Forest

The Silvergrove is the only village marked in the forest, so in keeping with the other lands and general map legend rules, it’s likely the capital/central village for the Moonshadow elves

The village is marked by four round-roofed homes between two tall leafy trees that shelter and hide them. It’s a hybrid balance between the blocky manmade castles of the human lands and the actual forest around them, showing a blending with nature that even the Sunfire city of Lux Aurea did not embrace, with all its golden buildings

It’s a good-sized forest, and it kinda stretches thin to the east but there it tentatively connects to the Drakewood Forest

Moonstone Path to the west just chilling in the lava like a blank alignment chart. Moonstone Path is Chaotic Hot.

Southern Xadia:

Ruins of Elarion

Elarion is a city, and it’s been lost to the humans for a thousand years

The building outlines are squared-off towers like the more modern castles in the west, suggesting that humans in Xadia built for strength and defense as soon as they could. They felt vulnerable and created protections in their architecture. The three elven cities we see also play to their strengths, but those strengths include magic. Elarion’s humans had to find a different strength, and they went with craftsmanship and ingenuity

It seems to be the only human city from before the border was drawn

“Ruins” doesn’t necessarily mean no one lives there at all, but it’s been emptied of humans and no one else has maintained it since

It had a great position on a vast lake, with sheltering hills and easy sea access

Sea of the Castout

This inland sea has five inlets and outlets. It’s hard to be sure which is which with some of them, with the way the water is drawn on this map. But I’m kinda liking the idea that all the water swirlies are places where Tidebound magic has been placed over the millennia, so the water can do whatever it needs to do depending on circumstances. That goes for the human lands, too. Katolis backward river, you’re off the hook.

With a name like "Castout,” I wonder if it was some kind of universal toilet to flush away things you didn’t want--including humans--who might wash up near Elarion and start to build there. Yeesh.

The rivers that flow into this sea pass through or near the Moonshadow Forest, the Midnight Desert, the Storm Spire, Drakewood, and the Uncharted Forest. That’s a lot of drainage.

It’s pretty far from the Tidebound Archipelago, so maybe its name is referencing Tidebound elves who have left their home colony

Was this always a sea, or did something that Xadia wanted to forget get flooded and hidden in the depths?

The land around it seems open and hospitable. It could be a good place to build/rebuild in a time of peace.

The Far Reaches

Open grassland with low hills

Two of the hills look like giant boot prints

Several colorful trees which I hope are fruit trees

Bounded by two rivers from the Sea of the Castout

Looks homey tbh, great spot to retire to get away from everything if there were a war that really shook you up

Ocean Point

There’s a Star rune here, and it could mean many things

The closest other marked location is Elarion

If this was where Aaravos lived of his own free will, I can see why he’d take a shine to the humans. They were his neighbors.

If he is imprisoned here, it’s literally the furthest point in Xadia from the other elven realms, with the Moonshadow Forest being the closest one and Umber Tor not too much further but in a totally different direction. If they were trying to isolate him physically with a portable mirror to watch over him, that’s a good spot for it

Possible location that the cube is leading Callum toward? Portal to the Star Touch home plane? Aaravos’s seaside B&B? Trap street?

Eastern Xadia:

Drakewood

Umber Tor looks to be the tallest mountain in all of Xadia, save possibly for the Storm Spire. It’s more traditionally mountainy, with a nice snowcap. Since it’s labeled, I’m guessing it’s the Earth Nexus, under which an Earth Archdragon sleeps

Also there’s a giant yellowish-brown dragon chilling next to the Tor. Yeah, he seems nice. Rex Igneous, I presume?

Or maybe not, since the neighboring forest is called Drakewood. Maybe this woods is just where a bunch of Earth dragons hang out? Ezran and Pyrrah flew off and returned with a crew of Sun dragons from somewhere, so dragons must have communities too

The mountains that edge the sea are shaped roughly like a stone dragon in flight

Drakewood seems to be the forest closest to Umber Tor, with both deciduous and evergreen trees, though there’s a huge swath of wooded land here, to the north and to the southwest. I wonder what the locals consider the border where the Drakewood becomes the Uncharted Forest and why. The way the evergreens are drawn almost looks like a border, a sort of kingswood set aside for a specific use. Rex Igneous’s best toothpicks?

Uncharted Forest

Okay this is a properly magical name, very mysterious. But uncharted by whom? People with charts? This might be a Sir Phineas Kurst name, which is outsidery, and it makes me wonder if the locals/neighbors have their own name for it, which the human explorer never learned, a la “Thunder” for Avizandum

Maybe “Uncharted Forest” just means no one ever turned those trees into charts though, old growth ftw

If no one lives here, will someone move here? If someone lives here, who are they? Earthblood elves? Moonshadow elves? Humans? This mystery, it calls to me

the trees are mostly deciduous and fill basically all of this whole section of land, up against the mountains and the rivers, so it seems very fertile land indeed

Earthblood elves could live here, but there is no city marked. Maybe because we haven’t gotten that far in the show, or maybe that’s the wrong sort of descriptor for how the Earthbloods live and organize. Maybe the whole forest is their city, like Pando, the interconnected quaking aspen clone forest

The northernmost part of this forest lies right between the Storm Spire and the Tidebound Archipelago, so it might get a regular flyover route for migration or messages

Yes, this forest is the most interesting place in Xadia to me, I desperately want to learn more about it

Black Tundra

Yeah this place isn’t ominous

Similar to the Shiverglades, but where that has shrubbery, the Black Tundra has single dead trees and creepy curving spikes. Scorched? Poisoned? De-magicked?

The water north of this area isn’t frozen, and with a lake to the south and a river and a moderate mountain range, the whole area looks like it would otherwise be decently habitable, but instead it’s cold and black

Is climate change a thing here, or will we get a nice horrible disaster instead?

Tidebound Archipelago

These islands have dotted lines around them, like they’re submerged at high tide, or maybe made of shifting sand that literally moves around like sand dunes across a desert, or perhaps they’re exactly at sea level with half their civilization in the air and half underwater or in cool bubbles, or maybe the islands actually float

Maybe the Tidebound elves even sank them on purpose for defensive purposes

The archipelago is about even latitudinally with the Storm Spire Lux Aurea, Berylgarten, and Eboreus so they probably get pretty nice weather

There’s no ice in sight here in any direction along Xadia’s east coast, so presumably the prevailing current is a warm one

do they have bridges connecting the islands? Ferries, animals who give them a lift across?

the islands have quite a bit of space on them. I wonder if there’s a big population, maybe a shifting population? Do Tidebound elves migrate up and down the coast like gray whales and return to the islands for certain holidays or social events?

This is probably the hub of the Tidebound elves’ culture, but the sea surrounds the whole land and infiltrates it with many rivers and lakes. The Spinning Sea and the Frozen Sea are pretty firm Do Not Enter signposts, but a determined Tidebound could get around either one if they wanted to

What I’m not seeing here is a city. Either it’s not been marked yet, or that’s not a thing that Tidebound elves have in their culture. If they don’t have a city, they’re possibly migratory in family groups, or maybe they stick to small villages like the Moonshadows do, but with even less central leadership

#asks #map of xadia #i love maps okay #xadia #andromeda #rayla #runaan #lujanne #moonshadow elves #moonshadow assassins #tdp angst #angst #through the moon spoilers

[pinnithin-writes]

Hardly An Apology

Written after 417 aired. 2093 words.

There was still blood on Pleck’s face.

This wasn’t necessarily a problem exclusive to him. They were all a little bloodied, a little shell-shocked, a little worn out. The entire crew had been put through the ringer, atoms arranging and rearranging in rapid succession as the Dame took them on a ride through time. On her last day alive, too. That was nice of her.

Lately, Pleck had thought a lot about what he was going to do on his last day alive. Y’know, after he’d learned about the whole “throw yourself into the Allwheat” thing. He’d tried to stay optimistic about it - he wasn’t exactly a master problem solver, but he hadn’t resigned himself to oblivion just yet, poking at the dilemma from different angles as he tried to find another way out.

Late at night, with the eldritch thing whispering to him, he had to admit his fate was hard to ignore.

He stood at the bathroom sink, mechanically rinsing the blood from his mouth and nose, avoiding his own reflection. He knew he needed a shave. He knew he needed to comb his hair. The chores of self-maintenance piled up as the days bled together in a meaningless smear while Seesu’s campaign spun its wheels. At least they’d finally gained some traction today.

No thanks to him. Sometimes, Pleck wasn’t even sure why he came on the missions for all the good he did them. He lacked Dar’s confidence. C-53’s intellect. Even AJ, headstrong and fearless, pushed them toward their goal with his actions. What did Pleck do? Well, lately, he just sort of hung around.

A favor for Dar, really. They had asked him to be there, to be him, so Dar could effectively be Dar . And because Dar had asked, Pleck had done it. He owed Dar a hundred favors for how many times they’d saved his sorry skin.

He cut the water off. Dried his face with a towel and let out the ghost of a laugh - a short, humorless exhale through his nose. It sounded louder than it had any right to be in the silence of the bathroom, with only the buzzing fluorescent light overhead to keep him company.

Pleck had been promoted today. Second Lieutenant. Or, Lieutenenant, he guessed. A rank and a job, given out of what, sympathy? Kindness? It didn’t matter, really. Turns out he’d repaid that kindness with a blaster shot to the brain.

Coming back to Bargie after all of that was a nauseating experience. He grimaced at the memory as he hung the towel up to dry. They all had a bad habit of putting up humorous walls around themselves when they were uncomfortable, grasping at distractions, latching onto funny details like they were lifelines in a stormy sea. Making jokes was something they knew how to do, something they were good at, something grounding. It anchored them, but anchors were oh so heavy.

Yeah, keep it tight! Great slogan! Great pants! Great job! Good one, guys!

They still watched someone die right in front of them. And then watched another someone pass on moments later. A one-two punch to the gut. Nothing a couple good jokes couldn’t fix, right?

A brief moment passed where Pleck thought he was going to lose the contents of his stomach, slapping a hand against the bathroom wall to brace himself as the vertigo twisted his gut. He saw it on the backs of his eyelids when he blinked. The zing of blaster fire, smashing in a starburst against Dar’s body. They were dead before they hit the ground.

His fault. Just like everything else.

He pulled in a shaky breath, managing to fight down the nausea. Rodd, he’d been mid-apology when it happened, too, as part of owning up to his long and exhaustive list of mistakes. It didn’t matter that he’d pulled the trigger years ago, when he was someone else entirely. It was still something he needed to make amends for. “Sorry I shot you,” he’d meant to tell Dar. “It was wrong and I feel terrible.”

Now what was he going to say? Sorry I killed you and left your body in the mud? Sorry you had to watch yourself die and then clean up my mess?

Guilt crawled into Pleck’s throat and settled there. He tugged his robe tighter around his torso, a self-soothing habit he’d developed over the past few months, and exited the bathroom. Instead of wandering down the hall to his closet, his feet carried him in the other direction to the adjacent room. He heaved open the door and flicked on the light, greeted by the gentle hum of the air unit and a distinct rise in humidity as he stepped inside.

The memory of the thick air on Flerp smacked him in the mouth and he had to take a second to lean back against the door. Calm down, calm down, he told his racing heart. You’re in the hydroponics room. Aboard the Bargarean Jade. You’re not on a distant planet in a downpour watching your friend die. He rubbed the heel of his hand into his good eye and pulled in a steadying breath.

It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re all okay.

That was it, right? Why he felt so wrong about it all. Like he didn’t have permission to grieve. There was nobody to grieve - Dar was with them on the ship now, and Dar was with them on the ship in the past, and everything had turned out alright. It was fine, they had a laugh, and they went about their business.

Pleck still felt shitty, though. He tried to swallow past the guilt in his throat.

He pushed off from the door and padded to the first rack of grow trays. He’d been coming in here a lot lately, having nothing to do around the ship. The warmth of the air and the moisture it held made him think of warm summer rains back on his home planet. Pleck remembered walking barefoot out in the grass fields as a kid, feeling the soft give of the soil under his toes as he watched the irrigation structure crawl a lazy track across the farm.

This room wasn’t exactly like that, but he did often go without shoes in here. More for nostalgic purposes than anything. The smooth metal flooring still felt nice on the soles of his feet, warm from the blaze of the grow lights. The system in here was automated, racks of machinery operating the whole process without any assistance needed from a sentient. There was no possible way Pleck could have jucked this one up.

Just like he’d-

He’d-

Pleck shook his head to clear it, focusing on the hum of the fan and the gentle sway of the plants in front of him. It made him feel a little homesick, actually, following the little seedlings to maturation. These were mostly leafy greens - butter lettuce, romaine, some spinach, a few varieties of cabbage - kept in the dark as they germinated for a few days within a square plug of peat moss and polymer. Watching the mechanical arms rotate the baby sprouts from the darkness to the light was hypnotic, and Pleck often found himself passing hours in here without realizing it.

It made him feel useful, even if he wasn’t really doing anything, making a slow circuit of the room and checking on the plants. Pinching off dead leaves where they appeared, refilling the nitrogen caddy, checking the roots for rot, harvesting and bagging the vegetables for the fridge later. Mindless, repetitive motions that slowed his pulse and passed the time.

He needed to be here right now.

Pleck tended the greens, grounding himself in a tactile comfort as he tentatively turned over the day’s events in his head. He skirted around the time stuff - it hurt just thinking about it and he preferred his feet planted firmly in the present - instead uttering a small prayer for the passing of Adelaide Wiggles. The last of her species. The Memorex had died with her, slumped to the cobalt floor of a crumbling mansion. Dignified, somehow, despite the biscuits clattering across the floor as she fell.

She’d looked her end in the eye and greeted it jauntily. Pleck wished he had that kind of resolve.

Watching the Dame’s life gently snuffed out like candlelight, while quite sad, was much easier to focus on than the other thing that gnawed at him. The thing he had done. It lodged in his neck like an extra set of teeth. He traced a fingertip over the gentle arc of a lettuce leaf, wondering if that had been the one to pull the trigger.

Pleck didn’t make a habit of firing guns, not past the old peashooter his father used to let him borrow as a kid. Sometimes they’d go out after X-Marse to the ditch behind the farmhouse and shoot bottles off the broken fridge that had lain there rusting for years. A rare treat. A Rangus vacation. Pleck smiled softly to himself at the memory as he plucked off a sick leaf and discarded it.

A blaster was different, though. It held all the kick and the power needed to kill a sentient, and in a blind panic, Pleck had done exactly that. It had happened so long ago he didn’t even really remember what it felt like, but he did just watch it happen, the stock hammering into his ribcage because he was holding it wrong. He at least remembered the purple bruise that had bloomed there afterward. Taken two weeks to heal.

How selfish he’d been. How utterly ignorant. The fact that his cowardice had gotten Dar killed snagged in his brain like a fishhook.

He stopped in his tracks in front of a healthy grow tray, pressing a trembling hand to his mouth.

He’d really done that, hadn’t he?

Killed Dar.

His captain, his friend, unshakeable in their confidence. That powerful solar flare of a being, all loud words and bold decisions and unstoppable will. Barreling through life like a freight train. And they cared about Pleck even when Pleck didn’t care about Pleck. One infinitesimal moment and they were dead.

Second Lieutenenant. Please. If he had a badge he’d turn it in.

The sob that escaped his chest was more of a thin sigh, rolling over him like one of those summer Rangus storms. His shoulders curled up and he pressed his hand harder against his mouth, as if he could hold the emotion in. He was so sick of having breakdowns in here. It was his cry spot of choice, the ventilation fan just loud enough to keep Bargie from overhearing, and he’d lost track of how many times the Allwheat’s record scratch of a voice had knocked Pleck’s feet out from under him.

He sucked in a shuddering breath through his nose, blinking away the burning in his eye. Dar wouldn’t want him crying over this. He had no right to be crying over this. He wasn’t the one who watched themself die today. Dar alone held that privilege - they were the only one who’d actually done anything about it, stepping up and taking charge, as was their nature, while Pleck stood there uselessly, as was his.

First Beano, now this. Pleck had to start keeping a tally of the friends he’d killed. Another joke for the crew to anchor themselves with. Who was next? C-53? AJ? Watch out, guys. Pleck’s coming for you.

He stood there, trembling in the misty room while the guilt soaked him to the bone, knowing he could never make this right. Dar had already done that for him.

Minutes passed, and the tension eventually ebbed from his shoulders. His breathing evened out. The greens in front of him bobbed passively on their trays of water, up-down-up-down, gentle like his heart. Letting out a long, slow exhale, he leaned his head against the cool aluminum of the hydroponics structure. He was grateful for this room full of life after the death he’d witnessed today.

Maybe one day they could talk this over. Maybe he’d find the impossible words needed for this insurmountable apology. And they could laugh about it, for real, full and genuine and from the heart. For now, though, he needed to hide himself away in this sanctuary, entombed ever so softly by the humid air and the swaying leaves. He couldn’t face them just yet.

“I’m so sorry, Dar,” he whispered to the empty room.

I’m so sorry.

#ink #fanfiction #part of my endeavor to relocate all my ao3 work #can you tell this episode fucked me up #once again apologies to everyone tracking the mtz tag #mission to zyxx

[mhdiaries]

Classroom Cleo de Nile & Ghoulia Yelps Mad Science Class Journal

Today was the dreaded “Choosing of Partners for Group Projects” although it could just be me that dreads it. I guess it is because there always seems to be a fight to see who gets to be my partner. I suppose that is an arrogant thing to write but it is true. In some ways it is flattering in other ways, not so much. Even Manny Taur goes out of his way to be nice to me. He is not exactly good at it, but he does try. Mr. Hackington decided this year to try and mitigate the chaos by putting all our names into a skull and drawing them out two at a time. There was some complaining about this new development until he finally said, “You get what you gets and you don’t pitch a fit!” My parents used to tell me that when I was a little ghoul, well probably not the way Mr. Hackington said it but he got his point across. Regardless, at least it keeps me from having to say “yes” to one classmate and “no” to the rest. 

Cleo complained the loudest about the new system until our names got pulled as partners... sigh... I love Cleo and she is my beast friend ever but I was really hoping for... well it does not matter. He got paired up with Frankie and I am sure they will do just fine. Normally having Cleo as a partner means... it means the extra credit work I usually do when I am working on a project by myself seems to be enough for both of us to an “A”. Cleo’s main functions include reminding me to do things I have already done and calling Deuce to bring us lunch or lattes. Not that I complain too much about that, and Deuce does have a way of keeping Cleo focused. She also insists on giving the final presentation, which usually goes well since she does command attention. This time though our assignment is to research the Science of Perfume, and then our final project will be to create our very own fragrance. I must say that I was completely surprised by Cleo’s enthusiasm for the project. I am not sure whether to be excited or frightened by this development. 

Finally a project worthy of my royal attention! I must say on past projects I have allowed Ghoulia to do the dragon’s share of the work but this is something I can really get my bandages wrapped around. When we still lived in Egypt, before “the difficulties”, one of my jobs was to oversee the royal perfumers. Nefera used to tell me that it was a job reserved for “a princess who would never become queen” but I didn’t care. While Nefera was in some dreadfully boring meeting about how much grain would be harvested for the year or where to build the next royal monument, I would go down and meet the trade caravans. They would be loaded with spices, oils and exotic flowers from the South and East, and the air was always filled with their fragrance. The royal perfumers and I would choose the best of everything to be had, then they would take the ingredients back to their perfumery and work their magic. I always wanted to join them as they cooked, ground and mixed the different ingredients to make perfume and scented oils, but this was looked upon as a task beneath a princess, so I could only watch. Now that I have a chance to get my hands dirty, so to speak, I can’t wait to get started. 

I have been pleasantly surprised by Cleo’s contributions to our project. She has really taken the dragon by the horns and unlike past projects together, I have had to “run” to keep up with her. Her enthusiasm and deadication to the project are quite refreshing and she has filled my in box with recipes and suggestions. So for the first time in, well, ever, I am feeling like the “weak link” in an academic setting. I find myself not entirely liking it, which makes me feel just a tiny bit selfish and unneeded. Yes, I know that this is completely illogical, but what if it becomes a habit? Will I lose my place in the group if my brainpower is no longer needed?... #DepressingThought

Ghoulia seems to be off her game lately. Usually she’s the zombie equivalent to a ball of energy when it comes to these projects, but lately she’s gone completely passive on me. It’s starting to scare me, and not in a good way. I admit to being more than a bit self-absorbed, but I can always tell when something is really wrong with one of my friends. I asked her what was wrong, and she said she was fine. I know better than to press her on it, or she’ll just retreat into her brain’s fortress of solitude and not come out for days. I suppose I’ll just wait until she’s ready to talk, but I really want her input. She’s my beast friend, and I want us to have fun together on this project. 

I told my mom I did not feel well today and stayed home from school. It was not a lie, but it was not because of a physical ailment, either. Cleo called me several times, but I chose not to answer my iCoffin. I mostly stayed in bed and then I thought maybe I really was getting sick since I did not feel like eating and could not generate enough excitement to read the newest issue of Dead Fast. Apparently my absence was noted, and the cavalry descended on my house after school. I heard the doorbell ring and then I heard the front door open. The voices of Cleo, Frankie, Lagoona, Draculaura and Clawdeen all called out to my mother, “We’re here!” I could smell the aroma of baking cookies drifting out of the kitchen - I thought she gave in to my request to stay home a little too easily. They all headed to the kitchen except for Cleo. I heard her heading down the hall toward my room - I knew it was Cleo because she has a very distinctive gait. She got to my door, knocked once and walked in. “All right, ghoul friend, what, in the name of Bast’s cats is going on with you?” I said nothing was wrong with me but Cleo was in one of her “royal moods”, and I could tell by the tone in her voice that she was going to pester me until I gave her an answer, so I did. I told her how I felt about my role on the project and how I was afraid that my intellectual abilities were the only reason that she and the rest of the ghouls wanted me around. Cleo just stood there staring at me with the strangest look in her eyes.

For a moment I could not decide if she was on the verge of being angry or sad. Then she simply spun on a heel, stepped to my door and yelled down the hall, “Ghoulia’s room - NOW!” The ghouls got to my room in a blink albeit with mouths full of freshly baked cookies. Cleo pointed at Frankie whose mouth seemed to be less full of cookie than the others, “Quickly, when you think of Ghoulia what’s the first thing that comes to mind?” Frankie sparked and said, “She’s kind and helpful!” Then Lagoona said I was “trustworthy and sincere”, Draculaura said I was “funny and sweet” and Clawdeen said I was “brave and determined.” Finally Cleo looked at me and said, “Notice anything in those descriptions that was missing?” I hung my head, a little embarrassed and a lot encouraged. “Now we are going back to the kitchen to eat more cookies, you could join us if you’re feeling up to it... oh and you better be in class tomorrow. We have a lot of work to do.” It turns out that my mother’s cookies are a miracle cure. Who knew? 

Now that Ghoulia is out of her funk, we’ve been able to make some progress. I found several trunks at home filled with jars of oils, extracts and spices. Nearly all of them are still labeled. Probably should be careful with the ones that are not... I seem to remember some were rather volatile when mixed with certain other ingredients. Unfortunately, I could not find any of my old recipes, so this will truly require real experimentation. 

Experiment Notes

Batch #1

Top notes of leather - old gym shoe leather - with a sweaty angst-like finish. It is a smell reminiscent of the odor that emanates from the boys’ locker room after summer football practices. FAIL

Batch #2

Complex floral notes of troll cabbage and broccoli with none too subtle undertones on burnt microwave popcorn. It was quite... breathtaking and also Mr. Hackington’s favorite. FAIL

Batch #3

It smelled like cheese at first then spoiled milk. Disgusting. FAIL

Batch #4 

A frightfully woodsy scent, mysterious yet approachable and our favorite by far. It also hardened in the beaker like cement. We may have discovered a way to create scented construction material but as a perfume - FAIL

Batch #5

Eau de Pit of Goblin Arm. FAIL

Batch #6

Two words - wet werewolf. FAIL

Batch #8

We used an unmarked bottle from Cleo’s collection. It was an odorless black elixir but when we mixed it with vanilla, juniper berry and patchouli oil it opened a portal to another dimension that sucked in half of our experiments before we could put a stopper in the beaker. Cleo blamed the patchouli. FAIL

BATCH #13

Lovely top, middle and base notes - check.

Accentuates rather than overopowers - check, check

Would we wear it ourselves? - check, check, check

Perfection!

Final Grade - A+

Best. Lab project. Ever.

#monster high #monster high diary #Ghoulia Yelps #Cleo de Nile #mad science #monster high journal

[ghostking-wenning]

Radishes, Chapter 2

chapter 2 babeyyy let’s party! I promise we’ll get to the actual plot soon lol

2200 words, Rated G, NingXian, modern au, farmer’s market au, gay disaster flirting, romcom? I guess?

Qionglin carefully stacked the produce crates in the trunk of his hatchback. It had been his sister Qing’s when she was in high school, but she passed it on to him when she moved to the city for university. It had been old then, and it was pretty shabby by now, but it got Qionglin from point A to point B, so he wasn’t complaining. He liked it better than the huge, noisy farm truck, anyway. That thing had the turning radius of a steam engine, and when it was cold and wet like today, the brakes made a hideous screeching sound that Qionglin could feel in his teeth. He’d considered driving that old monstrosity today, as he found himself once again laden with radishes. Luckily, through sheer stubbornness and a little clever maneuvering, he managed to fit it all in his car.

The drive to the city was peaceful, if a little boring. But Qionglin liked driving. In the car, he was finally, truly alone. He could sing along to the radio, and laugh aloud at the DJ’s corny jokes without fear of being seen or judged, or worse. When he was in school, he’d been bullied constantly. He had been tall and gangly, all limbs and very little grace; coupled with his stutter, his shyness, and his below-average grades, he was the perfect target. He’d had to learn to keep his head down, keep a straight face, keep quiet to avoid torment. Several years and lots of therapy later, he still struggled to express himself and be open with others, even his family. Slow progress is still progress, he reminded himself.

It had started to rain in earnest by the time he pulled into the market plaza. Working quickly, he pitched the canopy and unloaded the car. He had almost blissfully forgotten about all the radishes, until he was stacking them on the table again. Qionglin had always thought of himself as a patient, tolerant person-- a pushover, his sister would say-- but these radishes were really starting to get on his nerves. At least he could be sure they were the tastiest damn radishes in this whole market.

He finished setting up, and surveyed the rest of the market. Usually more of the vendors were set up by now, but perhaps they’d been delayed by the weather. It looked like it would be a slow day today. He sighed and sat in his folding chair, and watched as the market plaza slowly came to life. Nearly an hour passed before the first customers arrived to mill about the stalls, contemplating heirloom vegetables and artisanal soaps. After a few more hours, Qionglin happily tidied the stack of bills in his cashbox. For all his awkwardness, he had no trouble selling his produce. His vegetables were one of the few things he was proud of, and thus one of the few things he could talk about easily. 

But frankly, the produce spoke for itself. He had several regulars already who kept coming back for his peas and cabbages and whatnot. Even the radishes were popular, but they were so large, most people only bought a few at a time. The pile of them loomed quietly beside him. He pointedly avoided looking at them, and instead indulged in a little people-watching between customers. He spotted a teenager wearing a studded jacket and black boots, and was suddenly reminded of the handsome stranger he’d met the week before. Wei Wuxian... It wasn’t the first time he’d thought of that chance encounter in the last few days; he’d made such a fool of himself it was hard to forget. He’d also had trouble forgetting that incredible smile. He did say he was coming again this week… so I guess I can’t have screwed up too bad. 

When he took a break for lunch, he texted Qing. Just a quick “Hey how are you?” that she was probably too busy to answer right now. He thought about going to visit her when he was done for the day, but eventually decided against it. Qing didn’t care for surprise visits, she insisted on having a routine.  

He and Qing had been inseparable as children. After their parents passed, they were taken in by their grandparents out in the countryside. It had taken them both a long time to adjust, but it had been much harder on Qing. She never quite took to living in the country as well as Qionglin had.

When she graduated high school, she’d considered taking a year off before university, but Qionglin wouldn’t hear of it. He knew she was worried about him, knew she didn’t want to leave him behind, and he didn’t really want her to, either... but he couldn’t stand the thought of her putting her dreams on hold for him. He insisted he didn’t need her to protect him anymore, that her happiness was more important. They had fought about it all summer, but in the end, Qing relented. The day she left for the city, they both cried for hours. It was a bitter memory, but Qionglin chuckled a little thinking about it. It had been one of the first fights he’d ever won. One of the only ones.

He texted Qing again: “Miss you. Call me soon?” She didn’t answer. He would just have to wait until their next scheduled video chat. Qionglin sighed as he put away his lunch box and turned his attention back to the market. He busied himself tidying baskets of potatoes and bundles of herbs. The crowd was thinning now, and the rain was still pouring. Qionglin didn’t mind the rain, but it did sometimes steer his thoughts toward melancholy and a sad kind of wistfulness. He was so used to being on his own that he didn’t register the feeling as loneliness. He sighed again. I should do something fun tonight. Maybe I’ll bake something. That should cheer me up. 

“Hey, Farmer Wen!” A cheerful voice shook him from his reverie. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Qionglin jumped. He turned to see Wei Wuxian strolling breezily into his market tent. Oh no, Qionglin thought, as if part of him hadn’t been looking forward to this exact moment for the better part of an hour. Wuxian lowered the hood of his jacket and swept his long hair forward. Today he wore it in a loose braid, revealing a streak of red that Qionglin hadn’t noticed before. His clothes were damp from the rain, but he seemed elegantly unbothered. Somehow, even a worn knit sweater and faded jeans looked like high fashion on him. Oh no.

“Oops,” Wuxian said, stifling a little laugh, “Looks like I startled you this time.” 

“H… um, h-- h--” Qionglin cursed himself for getting stuck on the very first word. He shut his eyes and took a breath. It’s fine, don’t panic! Just pick a new word... Wuxian was patient as Qionglin collected himself. 

“… Greetings!” He finally said. Great choice, dork.

“How have you been?” Wuxian asked, idly picking up a head of cabbage and turning it over in his hands. He still wore his silver skull ring and woven bracelet, but today he had added several more rings, thinner and daintier than the skull.

“Uh… me? I’ve been fine I guess. S-same as ever. What about you?” He wished he’d had something more to say, but it wasn’t like he got up to much outside of work. Wuxian didn’t seem like he’d be interested in things like tree grafts and crop rotation. Quinglin had hobbies, he supposed; he liked archery and cooking, but he hadn’t had time for archery lately, and cooking was more of a necessity than a hobby. Nothing special.

“Fine, you guess? Huh.” Wuxian mulled over his bland response, eyebrows knitted together slightly like he was dissatisfied somehow. For a moment Qionglin worried he’d press the issue and he’d have to reveal just how boring he was. Thankfully, Wuxian had already moved on. 

“I’ve been doing great, myself!” He said, casually circling the table between them. “Had a pretty good week, y’know? Finished a big commission, had dinner with my sister, met someone... interesting.” He glanced sidelong at Qionglin and watched him completely miss the hint. With a sly little smile, he added, “And I’ve got a show coming up, so that’ll be fun.”

“Oh, that all sounds nice... What kind of show are you going to?” Qionglin asked, clueless, but politely interested.

“A rock concert,” Wuxian answered vaguely, picking up a long stick of burdock and twirling it in his fingers.

“Cool!” Qionglin said, sincerely and maybe a little loudly. His anxiety gave way to eager curiosity. “I like music. Haha, of course I do, who doesn’t like music?” He caught himself before he could start rambling. Focus! “Who-- uh, who’s playing?”

“I am.” With a hand on his hip, head held high and an effortlessly confident smirk playing across his lips, he was the very picture of coolness to Qionglin.

“Whoa! Really?” Qionglin’s face lit up. “I should’ve guessed you were a rockstar! Now that I think of it, you totally look like one…” He hadn’t meant to say that last part aloud, but before he could panic about it, Wuxian’s expression melted into a bashful, yet somehow radiant grin. In an instant he’d gone from incredibly cool to unbelievably cute. If Qionglin wasn’t blushing wildly before, he definitely was now. Oh no, he thought again. I’m doomed.

“Wha-- You really think so?” He asked, clearly flustered by the praise. His silvery eyes glittered.

It was too late to take it back, Qionglin had to commit. “Um, well, yeah! With the long hair and the piercing and the stylish clothes and all…” He fidgeted a little, worrying at the hem of his sleeve. Is this… flirting? Am I doing it right?

“Wow, thank you! That’s really sweet of you to say,” Wuxian beamed. “I, uh, I’m afraid I might’ve oversold it already though… My band isn’t exactly famous or anything. We mostly play clubs and stuff. Rockstar might be too strong a word.” He said, self-effacingly. 

“S-still! It’s cool that you’re in a band. What do you play?” Qionglin asked, still gazing admiringly.

“I’m the lead singer, but I also play guitar and sometimes keyboard. I play flute too, but that’s not very punk-rock, you know?” Wuxian laughed. “Do you play anything? Or sing?”

Qionglin laughed too, a little bitterly. “Only when I’m alone in the car. I think I’d die of embarrassment if anyone ever heard me… I uh, tried to learn violin when I was in school, but I was terrible. I couldn’t get the hang of sheet music either. I can’t even imagine being on a stage...” He shuffled his feet on the ground, and finally managed to tear his eyes away from Wuxian. He remembered how frustrating music had been, how the notes and lines seemed to swim across the page, jumbling into meaningless noise. They might as well have been hieroglyphs, for all the sense they made to him. Thinking about it too hard would give him a headache.

“Hmm,” Wei Wuxian said, pulling Qionglin back into the present. He didn’t say anything for a while, just looked at Qionglin appraisingly. “Well, you’re definitely handsome enough to be on stage. Might look better with your hair up though, so people can see your cute face.” He fished around in his pockets for a minute, totally oblivious to Qionglin’s thunderstruck expression. “Ah!” He said at last. “Here.” He offered Qionglin a red hair tie.

Qionglin could only stare, still trying to process what he’d just heard. Suddenly, it dawned on him that he might’ve been the interesting someone Wuxian had mentioned meeting. After what felt like several whole minutes, he took the hair tie, and tried to ignore the quiet frisson he felt as their fingers just barely brushed together. His internal monologue was reduced to incoherent screaming.

“Thank you…” he finally forced out. “I don’t think… anyone’s ever called me uh, that before…” he mused. Clumsily, he gathered the top layer of his hair back into a short half-ponytail. “Um… H-- how’s that?” His voice was so quiet he barely heard himself. Or maybe it was just drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

“Well, I can’t tell when you look at the ground like that!” Wuxian chuckled. Qionglin looked up at him, but couldn’t meet his eyes. He opted to focus on his silver piercing instead, then panicked when his eyes wandered to Wuxian’s lips. He dropped his gaze to the collar of his jacket. Wuxian examined him for another drawn-out moment. Qionglin briefly wondered if anyone had ever actually died of embarrassment or if he’d be the first. He nibbled on his lower lip, trying to think of what to say next, but his head was full of static. 

Thankfully he didn’t have to think too hard. “Hm, yep. Much better. Red’s a good color on you.” Wuxian said decisively. He finally looked away, and even he looked a little sheepish now. “I uh… guess I should actually do my shopping now, huh?” He cleared his throat and turned to look through the vegetables.

“Mn…” Qionglin answered. He shuffled back behind his counter and sat, still a little dazed. A couple minutes later, Wuxian plunked his picks on the counter. He paid and tucked his veggies into his backpack, the silence stretching between them. 

Under the table, Qionglin clenched his fists on his lap. Just go for it! Say something! Taking a deep breath to strengthen his resolve, Qionglin looked back up at him, green eyes meeting silver. He could swear Wuxian was blushing too. “S-see you next week?” 

Wuxian’s smile felt like a sunrise. “Yeah!” He said. “Absolutely.”

#mdzs fic #my writing #wen ning #ningxian #modern au #farmer's market au #my art #mai luobo! #wei wuxian

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Ace of Spades

This gorgeous cover art was drawn by @corpsecro​ !

AN: I literally have no self-control so here’s another Kanej fluff chapter. I promise we’ll get to the real stuff soon. My bbs just needed/deserved some love (and tbh, so did we). 🖤💫

Chapter 3- The Iron Debt

Inej blinked. 

“Erm— Yes,” she said, clearing her throat. Right. Business. 

She’d thought a lot about what she was going to say. She’d even gone so far as to prepare a speech for this moment. But she now fumbled for its beginning like a tangle of yarn buried deep in a drawer. 

She squared her shoulders and took a long breath. Focus. It’s just Kaz. This is just business.

“There are a great many things to learn from the sea, Kaz,” she began. “One of the things I’ve learned is that it does not cost nothing to simply exist--and it costs a monstrous deal more to live and live fully.”

There was that face again. The opposite of scheming. 

Kaz’s eyes glinted over the tops of his steepled fingers as he waited. Inej found she was rather enjoying this.

“I have lived fully for the past seventeen months,” she continued. “And though it’s been a worthwhile existence, it has cost me greatly. The Wraith has blessed my crew with many months of home on the waves. But she has suffered countless blows and battles on our hunt for slavers. Try as my crew might to fix her up, I believe she is beyond our unprofessional care. She needs proper refurbishment—new sails, new tackle, new masts.”

Kaz furrowed his brows. “You need a new ship.” It wasn’t exactly a question, but it asked enough.

Inej shook her head. “I like The Wraith. She’s sturdy and reliable and damned near the fastest thing on the True Sea. If possible, I’d like to keep her.”

It was Kaz’s turn to blink, but his look of shock was shortly replaced by a smirk of approval. 

“A year and a bit on the ocean and you’re already cursing like a sailor,” he said.

Inej sighed and bit back a smile of her own. She forgot how unused to hearing her swear he must be. “Focus, Kaz.”

“When am I not focused?” His eyes bore into hers, and Inej found herself holding her breath. 

Fair point.

Kaz leaned back in his chair, eyes still fixed on her. “Well, if it’s just a bit of work you need done on the ship,” he said, “I know a guy. But if it were just a bit of refurbishing you needed, I don’t think you would have bothered coming all the way here.”

The ache tugged in her chest, a desolate siren call. 

“It’s not just refurbishing,” Inej said with a small, sad smile. “I want—I need to refurbish The Wraith. But I’d also like to pay my crew a livable wage for the services they provide. To feed them something other than beans for a change.”

“Anything else?”

“Some new boots would be nice.”

“Well, now you’re asking too much.”

She gave Kaz a long look, even as the corners of her mouth tugged up. He returned the grin in kind.

“But I can’t do all that,” Inej pressed on. “Not all at once. Not with the money that’s left.”

It was strange. She’d always thought she’d be able to live forever off her share of the money they’d glommed from the Merchant Council. At the time, it had seemed like so much. 

Especially after everything Kaz had done, everything he’d taken care of. For her.

He’d paid off her indenture, reunited her with her family, and bought her a boat so she could chase her dreams to the most distant shores. Her heart still gave a smarting twist sometimes, thinking of everything he’d given. 

The gift she was sure he didn’t realise he was to her. 

For the first time in her life, she had been truly free—limitless. So of course, she’d set up a bank account in her parents’ names and deposited a large sum of her share so they would never need worry. 

The rest went toward maintaining her ship and paying her crew. She’d tried to make the money last as long as possible. They’d eaten nothing but potatoes in every conceivable form for months. And when the fresh supplies had run out, they’d started on the dried beans and fermented cabbage.

As it turned out, hunting slavers did not pay well. It didn’t pay at all, actually. 

Inej had quickly learned that the money slavers did make was either too quickly spent to be looted by her crew after they’d ambushed a ship of them on the open waters, or was dealt with and kept securely on land.

And now, Inej was left with a much thinner cushion of kruge than she cared to think on for too long.

“If it’s money you need, Inej,” Kaz said. “You need only ask.”

“It’s not money I need,” she said, then gave him an apologetic look. “Not your money, at least.”

He cocked his head to the side. “What’s wrong with my money?”

“You’ve given me more than enough already, Kaz,” she said quietly, eyes lowering to her calloused hands. “I already owe you a great deal as is.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Inej.” His tone was sharp as a honed blade and so wholly sober that it made her peer up at his face again. He watched her with cold determination and eyes of glittering obsidian. 

Her smile was rueful and small as she said, “My gratitude, then. By way of friendship.”

At this, Kaz’s eyes softened. 

Kaz had never been good at friends. Inej was fairly sure their heisting days with the Crows a lifetime ago was the first time Kaz had allowed himself to think of anyone as his friend in earnest. 

“I’d like that,” he said. There was a soft vulnerability in his voice that took her by surprise. 

Kaz Brekker never did anything softly. 

She didn’t let that thought show on her face, however. “Me too,” she told him. Then, she huffed a sigh. “Even so, I can’t take your money.”

Kaz frowned. “Why not?”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” she said, lips quirking up. “I’ve made a name for myself.”

“So I’ve heard,” he mused. “Inej Ghafa, Slaughterer of Slavers.” 

There was a hint of pride in his voice as her newly minted title rolled off his tongue.

“Then you’ll understand that as generous as your offer is, I can’t rely on anyone financially. I cannot be beholden to anyone but myself. Ever again.”

Kaz nodded once in understanding. “Of course,” he said. “You have a reputation to uphold, it seems.”

“Exactly.”

“So if it’s not money you need,” he mused. “What is it you want, Inej?”

“I want you,” she said, and her heart stumbled, her head spinning and scrambling with the weight of her slipped words. “Your help, that is.” 

She very nearly cringed. If she was not a tomato before, she was surely one now.

Grinning, Kaz leaned back in his chair and waved a hand through the air with a dramatic flourish. “I’m at your service.”

This made Inej pause. She lifted her brows pointedly at him. “You don’t even know what it is I need your help for.”

“Yes,” he said simply, holding her gaze. Then, after a beat, “I thought we were friends. Is this not what friends do?”

“We are. It is,” she blurted. Too hurriedly. 

“So, I’ll help.”

“What— no careful consideration of every possible outcome? No overbearing Kaz Brekker scheming?”

He gasped in a dramatic fashion worthy of the stage. “I am not overbearing!”

Inej just fixed him with a long look. He was either taking lessons from Jesper or he was indeed still half-seas over.

“Inej, darling,” Kaz drawled. “I don’t spend most of my nights getting drunk in the bath because it is fun or particularly important. Helping you would be by far the most diverting thing to happen in weeks.”

Now, she eyed him incredulously. “So you’re helping me for your own amusement.” 

“Mostly. Besides,” he said, looking at her from under hooded lids, “This is your scheme. Far be it from me to interfere with whatever it is you have planned. I trust you.”

“Because we’re friends.”

“The best,” he said, and gave her a winning smile.

It was so unlike Kaz to relinquish control like this. Even if they were friends, even if he did want to help her, even if he was bored out of his mind--she would have at least expected Kaz to relish in the opportunity of helping her puzzle together a plan.

Instead, he was letting her take the reins. 

Unconvinced, Inej narrowed her eyes at him. “What if I said I needed your help fishing my hat out of the Kraken's stomach?” she asked, leaning forward on the dresser. 

A challenge.

“Then I’d say,” Kaz said, mimicking her movement, his elbows coming to rest on his knees, “Tie a rope to my belt and I’ll see what I can dig up.”

Inej considered him for a moment, appraising the man before her. His eyes, all fixed on her and black as the night between stars, swam with something like death or hope. 

It made her heart flutter. 

But she merely leaned back, placated for now at least, and said, “My, my, Kaz. You must be very bored to be so desperate for something to do.”

“Are you saying I can’t help a friend in her time of need? Out of the goodness of my own heart?” Kaz asked in feigned offence.

“Are you saying you have goodness in your heart?”

His lips twisted into a wry smile. “Let’s not be hasty now, Inej.”

She let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “So you’ll help?”

“Of course.” Kaz shrugged. “Though, knowing a bit about what I’m helping with might ease my mind. And my back.”

Inej frowned. “What happened to your back?”

“It gets tense when people scheme without me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Poor King of the Barrel.”

He barked a laugh. “I may be King of the Barrel, but I can assure you I am not poor.”

“Alright, smart ass,” Inej grumbled. “No need to boast. There are those of us who are presently in times of great need.”

For a moment Kaz’s face beheld genuine bewilderment. Then, he looked ready to burst into fits of laughter. But he staved it down for a smug mask instead. 

“Why, Inej, my darling treasure,” he hummed, “I do believe that was a joke, an insult, and a curse in one fell swoop.”

Inej, having let her well-practised tactics slip away from her with every passing minute in Kaz’s bedroom, blushed. Profusely. 

She hated him for it.

“I won’t tell the saints,” he whispered conspiratorially with a wink. “Promise.” 

She was sure her cheeks had been set ablaze. 

Stupid. How very stupid it was for her to be the one embarrassed when it was he who was drunk and flirtatious and talking business in silk pyjamas.

“Alright,” Inej griped, scowling at the self-satisfied grin on his face. “Enough of your brazen raillery.” Then, leaning forward again to fix Kaz with a glare, she said, “Do you want me to tell you the plan or do you intend on flirting yourself into oblivion instead?”

Kaz wisely covered his ensuing laugh with a cough and made a half-hearted attempt at arranging his face into seriousness. He crossed one leg over the other. “I’m listening.”

“Good,” she said, steeling her spine. “Now, lucky for you I have a solution to both of our predicaments. My lack of funds and your lack of… stimulation.” She gave him a smile that suggested she knew exactly what she was saying. Kaz’s mouth popped open, but before he could say anything in his own defence, she barreled on, “Have you heard of something called the Iron Debt?”

He frowned. “The name rings a bell, but I can’t say I recall—”

“It’s a lost treasure,” Inej cut in. “Long ago, in a time out of mind, the founding fathers of a secret organisation buried a treasure deep within the world. This organisation was a guild of merchants who made and sold impossible artefacts of great power and fortune. They called themselves The Founders.”

Kaz nodded. “Them, I’ve heard of.”

“Then you’ll know they still exist today,” Inej said. “Hidden in the unsearched cracks of society—unknown to those who haven’t a care to look, and lost to those who don’t look hard enough. Rumour has it, their treasure, the treasure left behind by the founding fathers, remains lost as well.”

Another frown puckered his face. “So you want to... put yourself up for the job? Find it for them?”

“Come now, Kaz,” Inej said, levelling him a look. “What happened to that genius criminal mind of yours?”

“It’s currently intoxicated,” he deadpanned. “Give me a minute.”

“No, Kaz,” she said with a sigh. “We’re not going to find it for them. We’re going to find it first.”

A slow smile slipped across his face. “I like the way you think.”

“Oh? And what way is that?”

“Like a pirate.”

When Inej beamed at him then, Kaz looked for all the world like he’d been blinded by the sun. 

“Well, then,” she said, smoothing her hands down her leggings, “A pirate and a veritable King of the Barrel. Undoubtedly the most ferocious team the world has ever seen.”

“Indeed,” he said, and rising from the desk chair, he wended his way back into the bathroom. 

Inej’s face wrinkled in confusion as she peered after him—a hard thing to accomplish from atop a dresser. A fact she found truth in when she nearly toppled to the floor. 

There was shuffling and clinking behind the bathroom door. 

Just when Inej thought she might need to check on him, Kaz emerged again with two teacups and the bottle of very old whiskey he’d been busy making a sizable dent in when she’d arrived. The price of said whiskey, she was sure, could ostensibly pay her way for a good week or two.

“So how exactly do you plan on finding this long lost treasure first?” Kaz asked, setting the teacups down on the desk. 

Only then did she notice the cups were lime green and pink and dotted with teddy bears. Inej wondered how in the Saint’s holy realm these teacups had ended up in the filthy hands of Kaz Brekker, self-proclaimed Bastard of the Barrel.

“Haven’t the foggiest,” Inej said flatly. 

In truth, she did have a vague idea. She was just too much of a coward to admit what exactly that idea was until she was sure she had the facts right. If this was her job, she was going to execute it professionally.

Kaz seemed to read her thoughts because he gave her a knowing look as he poured a finger of amber liquid into each cup. A look which suggested he was waiting for her real answer.

“Fine,” she breathed, “I do have some leads. Leads which I’ll tell you about as soon as we’ve assembled a team.”

“Ah,” he said, extending a cup towards her. “There will be others.”

Inej took the cup from his hand and tried not to leap from her own skin when his fingers grazed her wrist. Gooseflesh rose in his wake. Then, Inej smiled. 

“As formidable a team as we two doubtless make,” she said, “I’m thinking we might need more help on our side.”

“I think,” he said, taking up a place leaning casually against the desk, “That would be very wise. What about your crew?”

“Oh they’ll be keen, I’m sure,” she said. “But I was thinking more specifically. We’ll need people with certain talents. People we can trust.”

Kaz caught on quickly. “You want to get the Crows back together.”

“Do you think it wise?” she asked, attempting to hide her hopefulness by looking down at the whiskey she now swirled in the bottom of her cup. 

She wanted this. Badly. 

Of course, she hadn’t fooled herself into believing it would be just like old times. Inej knew everything was different now. So much had changed. But the fact of the matter was, Inej didn’t miss this place so much as she missed the people she’d come to care for here. And she wanted to think they missed her, too. 

So she waited with bated breath for Kaz’s response.

“I think you are very wise, Inej,” was all he said.

Her eyes snapped up. “Don’t butter me up, Kaz,” she said, setting her teacup down on the dresser. “And don’t sugar coat it, either.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “I think it might prove… difficult, roping them into a grand scheme like this.”

“How come?”

“Well, for starters,” Kaz said, placing his cup on the desk and folding his arms across his chest, “Matthias is dead.”

Inej’s jaw dropped. 

He’d said it as if it were an innocuous comment. As inconsequential as mentioning the weather outside. If she was honest with herself, she almost laughed from the sheer shock of it. 

“I thought you said not to sugar coat it,” Kaz said when Inej, still staring at him dumbfounded, floundered hopelessly for words. 

“I meant in terms of straight answers, you incredible arse.” Inej glared, ignoring the way his lips quirked up at the corners when she cursed. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m well aware of Matthias’s whereabouts, Saints rest his soul.”

There was a pause in which Inej refused to look at him. 

She stared at the soot stain in the carpet again and thought she might be better friends with it at that moment than she was with the man who thought making quips at their deceased friend’s expense was a smart thing to do.

“I’m sorry,” Kaz said, and when she looked at him she thought he looked genuine. Though it could have been a trick of the light. “Look, Matthias is gone, Nina left, Kuweii is… gods only know where. Which leaves Jesper and Wylan, and they’re… well, they’re—”

Her heart sank to her stomach. “Saints, Kaz,” Inej breathed, trying not to panic. “What happened to Jesper and Wylan?”

Kaz gave her a bemused look. “They’re happy, Inej,” he said quietly.

Silence settled, heavy in the air between them. 

Inej didn’t know why. Part of her was awash with relief that nothing truly devastating had happened to her two dear friends. The exact opposite, in fact. And she should be happy for them. She was happy for them. They deserved the love they’d found in each other.

But there was a second part to Kaz’s statement, an unspoken part, that tinged the silence with something like sadness. 

They don’t need us anymore, the silence said.

And a thought occurred to her—that Kaz had been living with this fact for much longer than he would probably ever admit. 

That thought alone broke Inej’s heart a little.

“Oh,” was all she could muster. “Thank the Saints for that.”

“We can ask,” Kaz murmured. “But I doubt they’ll agree to join us. Wylan has the business and Jesper won’t want to leave Wylan alone for so long.”

Inej nodded. “I understand,” she said. “We’ll ask. And if they say no, we’ll assemble a new team.” 

“I have a few people in mind,” he offered.

“Yeah?” She inclined her head. “Like who?”

“Jensen.”

“Jensen?”

“Mhmm.”

Inej narrowed her eyes, going to no great lengths to hide her suspicion. “I’ve never heard you mention a Jensen before.”

“Really? Must’ve met him while you were off being noble.”

“Huh,” she said, ignoring his jab. “And who is this Jensen, pray tell?”

“Ferocious thief,” he said. “Quick with his hands. Not bad with a knife, either. Might even give you a run for your money.”

“Doubtful.” Inej smirked. 

Kaz’s eyes glinted in the low light of the room. He was baiting her. She knew it. She supposed that made her a willing fish.

“Why would I hire him when I have you?” she asked. “You’re a ferocious thief. You’re quick with your hands. And I’m devastating with a knife.” Kaz hummed at that, his face full of amusement, which only fed her suspicions. “To be honest, Kaz, this Jensen seems like a redundancy I can’t afford.”

“Oh, you can afford him. He’ll do it for free.”

“No one works for free, Kaz,” she reminded him. “You know that. Not in our line of work. And especially not when the job involves life-threatening situations.”

“Jensen will.”

“How do you know?”

“Because,” Kaz said, face splitting into—dare she even think it—a shit-eating grin, “Jensen is a monkey.”

“A monkey?” Inej scoffed. “I thought you said he was a person.”

Kaz shrugged. “Semantics.”

“So you’re telling me a monkey is our best candidate for a new crew?”

Kaz nodded. “He’ll work for butter biscuits.”

Inej groaned and slid a hand down her face as Kaz’s terrible laughter rumbled through the room. 

“You’re incorrigible,” she said, trying to tamper down her own chuckles. A few escaped her lips despite herself. 

She knew it was a distraction. By some miracle, Kaz must’ve been able to read the tension in her shoulders like lines from a book. And for a moment, as Inej laughed at the absurdity of Jensen the pirating monkey, she’d felt that tension ease. 

It was probably the best kind of disappointment she could ask for at this point. 

“We’ll find a team, Inej,” Kaz assured her, more serious now that he’d collected his dignity off the floor where he’d dropped it. “It might not be with Jesper or Wylan. And it might not be with Jensen.”

“I think that would be wise,” she interceded, a smile ghosting at her lips. 

“We’ll find people.”

“People,” Inej clarified. “Not monkeys.”

“Fine,” Kaz sighed in mock regret. “I know of a parrot—”

She gave an incredulous laugh. “No animals, Kaz!”

“Right,” he said, drumming his fingers against the side of the desk. “Can we at least pay Jes and Wylan a visit, and kick their sorry butts at cards before we leave them to their domesticities?”

“That, I might agree to,” she said. 

And suddenly, she was remembering vividly all those nights between shoot-outs and scheming and heisting, when the Crows had gathered around a rickety old table to play cards. 

They’d bet on ridiculous things - like dares or a feathery hat the loser had to wear for a day - because all of them were skint and those things were better than money anyway. 

Usually, it was Poker or Bullshit, but many-a-game of Slap Jack had nearly snapped the table’s legs. There had even been a game of surprisingly competitive Go Fish or two when they’d exhausted all other options. 

Inej delighted at the echo of unmitigated ruthlessness of those games that danced across her mind.

The mischievous gleam in Kaz’s eyes told her he remembered, too. 

And as that gilded memory shimmered in the air between them, Inej felt warmer than she had in months. 

For all of his insufferable jokes and needling sarcasm, she found herself incredibly grateful for her friend, who had subtly reminded her that just because things had changed, it didn’t mean there were not still good times to be had.

“Then it’s agreed,” he said. “We’ll assemble a crew, get some leads, then take Jesper and Wylan for all they’re worth at the tables.”

Inej laughed and lifted her makeshift glass in a toast.

“What shall we toast to, pirate?” he said, lifting his teacup to match her own.

She thought for a moment. There were so many things to be grateful for.

“To very lost treasure,” she decided in the end. “And swindling the swindlers.”

“Pirate, indeed,” Kaz replied. 

Their glasses clinked, and Inej slid slowly into the warm refuge of her glass and the revelry of being home at last.

♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎

AN: Hope you enjoyed this fluff chapter because I am Kanej trash and I enjoyed writing it very much. Thank you so much for reading! More (serious) chapters to come soon- if you’d like to be tagged in future updates, just shoot me a message/ask 🖤💫

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#grishaverse big bang #grishaverse #the grisha trilogy #ace of spades #aos #six of crows #soc #crooked kingdom #ck #leigh bardugo #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kanej #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #wylan van sunshine #wesper #jesper x wylan #kaz x inej #ketterdam #bastard of the barrel #dirtyhands #the wraith #the barrel #the slat #the crow club

[fericita-s]

Turn Around and the Time Has Flown

Here is an Agnarr and Iduna baby-naming fic, requested by  kanshou87 on AO3 and @showurselfelsa here on tumblr. I borrowed Revna from @jomiddlemarch. Thanks for the loan! Part of the When All is Lost series @the-spastic-fantastic and I are writing. Thanks to her for reading this and helping me embrace the dark side of angst fic!

They had been married for a year and a half before the need to talk about baby names with any sense of immediacy arose.

Cuddled in a window seat, Iduna felt cold despite the summer sun streaming in and turning their refuge a small greenhouse.  As they tried to name the life that was growing, the life that would make them a family in a new way, Iduna enjoyed needling Agnarr by choosing the names of his foreign would-be brides.  The women who would have been queen if Agnarr had consented to match-making for an alliance.

“I had so hoped to name our first daughter Tunde, or perhaps Erzsebet.”  She sighed dramatically and placed a hand on her waist, where only the faintest roundness showed that a baby would be born in another six months.

Agnarr had beads of sweat on his forehead from their spot in the sun, but stayed next to Iduna, one arm around her shoulder as he held her, his other hand tracing delicate circles around her middle. “Oh? And is your very favorite name Alexsandra? I hear it’s all the rage on the continent.”

Iduna  laughed, pleased he had known she was having fun, and not still tender about his time hosting and wooing women from several kingdoms.

“And what if it’s a boy? Shall we name him after your father?”

Agnarr sighed.  “I suppose that would be expected. But that’s a heavy burden to carry, the name of a king who died in battle. Maybe one of your brothers’ names?”

Iduna wondered if her brothers were even alive.  They might have died in the battle too. It was a sad thought for what should be a happy time, a birth recalling those who were dead one way or another in her life here in Arendelle.  Naming her child for in honor of her Northuldra family might be the only way for those names to live.  But it might also reveal her origins and put the baby in danger.

“I think my brothers’ names are too foreign for Arendelle. People will wonder.” She thought some more, wanting a way to be herself and be safe.  It was a delicate negotiation she began during her first days at Eir’s and continued now even as Queen. “My grandmother’s name was Elsa. She was the one who made my shawl, who wrapped me in it when I was born. I’ve heard that name here, too.” Iduna shivered slightly, the warm memory of her grandmother not changing how the very breath inside of her felt cold.

“Elsa. I like it.” He leaned in to kiss her, willing the heat of his body to warm her, to stop this chill that seemed to grow with the baby.

***

Elsa was an easy baby and grew into a happy, pleasant toddler.  She was content to be near her mother even if her mother did not rise from the bed. She sometimes refused her soup by freezing it in the bowl, but mostly was intrigued by the snow she accidentally made, surprised and delighted each time by its appearance.

She was a quiet child, content even at a year and a half to play silently with the figurines Henrik brought her as a baby gift.

“Noah’s ark? For a baby? Isn’t that a little gruesome?” Iduna had asked when Henrik presented it to the new parents at the baptism.

“It’s a Bible story! I’m trying to be respectable. Considering some of the other gifts I’ve offered Agnarr over the years - ”

Agnarr had cut him off with a hearty clap on the shoulder and a laugh. "Thank you, Henrik. It's very thoughtful.  I'm sure Elsa will love it."

Agnarr, while proud and delighted that Elsa had the gift of magic, knew it wasn’t wise for the whole kingdom to know.  The prejudice against magic had only grown since the failed Northern Expedition.  The Arendellians still suspected the magic of the Enchanted Forest was to blame for both the massacre and the mist that kept its secrets, denying closure to those whose loved ones had vanished behind it.

He knew keeping her secret close was the best way to protect both his magical daughter and his Northuldra wife. And in a northern kingdom like Arendelle, it was not hard to explain away the chill or the wet that followed in the small child’s wake.  What babies weren’t wet in one way or another?

It became harder to keep magic a secret with Iduna’s second pregnancy. Only Midwife Jora was allowed to tend to Iduna, in bed, feverish with an unbreaking consistency. Elsa was in the room, cooling it intermittently with the ice magic she couldn’t control.

The fever-reducing remedy had no effect and even Elsa in the room could offer little relief for the heat building inside of the Queen’s body. Iduna felt thick and swollen, was thick and swollen. The constant, oppressive heat made her feel like she was in the mist surrounding the stones that marked the border of the Enchanted Forest. It was wrapped around her, pressing in, giving her days the sensation of a strange dream.

Elsa would walk over to her mother, touch her head and arms with her cool hands, and Iduna would stroke her daughter’s hair, fighting through the haze to be present.

A raven appeared at the window one day and Elsa clapped to see it, called to it saying "Hi Bird! Birdy!"

Iduna turned in the bed to see, already a cumbersome process even though the baby was not yet large.  She turned white at the sight.

"It's a raven."

When Agnarr came to the room the night, she told him, crying at what she had seen, able to express her fears now that Elsa was tucked in her own bed down the hall and would not witness it.

"It was a raven. They bring death." Her voice hitched on the last word. Agnarr took her in his arms, cradling her like a baby. She seemed smaller to him somehow, this pregnancy was diminishing her in a way that alarmed him. He would speak with Midwife Jora in the morning. Surely she knew something else they could try besides ice baths and cooling cloths.

"It's an Arendellian Raven. They bring messages from the old gods, from Odin himself. It's a good sign. It's a sign of blessing, of favor.  Not ill will."

Agnarr said so in his king voice, the one he used to give commands and quell disputes. As if  by ordering it, by wishing it, he could will the baby healthy and his wife whole.

"Then why do I feel death close?" she asked, barest of whispers, a layer of sweat keeping her body wet and uncomfortable.

She was right, though she didn't want to be.  In her seventh month, Midwife Jora helped with the too-early delivery and baby Revna came out in a rush of red and heat.  Iduna slept for an entire day and, when she woke, the heat was no longer a palpable force inside of her.  She had aching breasts filled with milk and arms that ached to hold a baby. Midwife Jora laid cabbage leaves on her breasts and served her sage tea, and Iduna wondered how part of her body could be so ready for a baby although she had failed to bring that baby into the world alive.

***

After Revna, they didn't want to choose a name until the baby was born.  Iduna felt wonderful the entire pregnancy; hadn't even realized she was pregnant until the fourth month. Her cycle had not been regular since her first, especially after Revna, and it wasn’t until she felt the baby stir inside her that she knew.

She was used to pregnancy making her entire body feel foreign - too hot, or too cold. But this time, she just felt joyful. It was a gift, to feel like herself.  To play with Elsa and dig in the dirt and accompany Agnarr to council meetings. As she got larger and larger in the summer months, she and Elsa would take off their shoes and stockings and wade into the pond on the castle grounds. Iduna and Agnarr showed Elsa the gardens and grounds and all of the surprises one could find there, the lichen and boska and rosemary touched and felt and brought back to the castle for observation. And, often, frozen accidentally on the way.

Agnarr delighted to watch his wife and daughter through the castle windows while he was confined to a council meeting or dictating correspondences. Though Iduna had no complaints this time, he once again moved Midwife Jora into the castle. He watched his wife warily, waiting for the fevers or the chills to plague her again. At night, she soothed him.  "See how strong I am? See how strong the baby is?"

She stroked his face and kissed his mouth and laid her head on his chest, trying to give him the strength and calm she felt in her bones. But still, the memory of Revna was too close. Naming this child felt like claiming something the spirits and gods hadn’t yet decided to give them.  Neither one of them dared to name the still-growing child, afraid a name would make the grief unbearable if this child too could not take a breath.

So when she was born, kicking and squalling, they both felt it was a gift beyond compare, riches beyond their comprehension. "She's a gift, our Anna. A gift of grace and beauty." Iduna cupped Anna’s head, seeing the hint of red hair, delighted to see Agnarr in miniature.

"Two daughters! Sisters! I hope they'll never be as lonely as we were as children. They will always have each other,” said Agnarr. 

At Anna’s birth, his joy was so deep and complete he had to be reminded to attend to the duties of king. For the first time, he forgot about council meetings, forgot about troop reviews and ceremonial duties. He stayed next to Iduna, holding this tiny miracle child who survived, who thrived, who looked like him when no one else on earth did.

#agduna #king agnarr #queen iduna #mama and papa arendelle #when all is lost #tw: miscarriage

[curus-creations]

The solstice had come and gone last week, the sun still high and fierce, the nights still pale and temperate. Under the crooked cover of the forest, Ked walked. Stout, round-faced and tan, clothed in old leather and older furs, she wandered aimlessly. This deep into the forest, there was only ever the singing of hidden birds and the occasional beast running through the undergrowth.

Until today.

She spied the pale limbs of the creature, like birch branches, darting behind an oak. Clearly no human – but certainly no animal Ked knew of, either.

"You know I saw you, aye?" "Maybe so," responded a thin voice, "but you need not see me again. Or ever." "Well and good. But I'm sure you know that shrub at the base of this tree is witchberry." Ked pointed, mostly for effect, at the short reddish plant. "Given I've never seen it nor any others before in this wood, and I've lived here all my life, I can only assume you take them for your own purposes." "...A fair observation." "And I assume whatever your lovely kind needs them for, it greatly outstrips our want for them. But even knowing that, such is the value of this plant that I cannot leave it unclaimed, unless you take it before my eyes. If witchberries were left to rot on the stem it would be a terrible shame."

The creature did not emerge for a while. Ked stood her ground, invested in her own curiosity.

"Not unreasonable..." A hand of rootlike fingers crept around the oak. "Not the worst argument I've heard." Its face was barely a face, really. Its black eyes were wide and glassy, its mouth a short flat line at the bottom of a noseless plain. Ked felt those eyes take her in. The fae watched her like a rabbit in a field as it bent down, cutting away the fruiting stem with a swipe of its hand.

Between blinks, it was gone.

*

A month on and the day was humid, the low sun leaving a thick blanket of haze on the world.

Ked sat on a fallen trunk, watching the witchberry stand perfectly still in the airless afternoon. The fae picked through ferns, tall and green-white. Ked thought for a second on how she might be better hidden in the forest than it, and smiled.

This time it did not hide, instead crouching to the shrub in plain sight. "Can it really be that no-one has ever stolen these berries?" It was not surprised to hear her speak, though it had not once looked in her direction. "I've never once heard of them being seen here, and they grow often enough somebody must have spotted them."

"...Come here." Startled by this request, Ked dropped to her feet and came over, maintaining a respectful distance of just within touching range (for the fae). It swung round, holding the shrub in front of her face. "See." Its other hand pointed to a ring, positioned between two twigs on the lower stem. "The golden band hides what is our king's from all but observant eyes."

Ked saw the golden band – much like the ring, but larger – fitted snugly to the fae's left wrist, and wondered.

*

"I'm Ked. May I know your name?" "Is your curiosity not sated?" "Sorry. I don't have many friends." Ked watched the dry wind shake the leaves above. "Or any." The fae glanced over Ked with those wide, black eyes. "...Call me Sigh."

"Does witchberry normally grow this fast?" Ked changed the subject. "If it ever grows outside of our auspices, it grows as slowly as anything else, I assume." "I can't imagine what great use you have for them. To need them this often, I mean." Sigh looked Ked over again. She was getting used to seeing the faint twitch in their blank face, the glint in those featureless eyes. "Our king drinks the wine of the witchberry daily." She chewed her tongue.

*

"Have you any idea why the band on your arm didn't hide you from me?" Sigh touched their wrist reflexively, like flinching. The browning leaves shivered in sympathy. "Some humans are more observant than others. You said you had no friends?" Ked flinched, and the leaves did nothing.

"...Couple months after we were married. Husband died. People got it in their heads it was suspicious – couldn't stand to hear the rumours, so. Learned to live by myself." Sigh inclined their head. "Don't fret for me. I'm doing alright."

But the fae stayed looking at the ground.

"...The band marks the property of the king. Most cannot see me, but all the same – if you had lain a finger on me, he would have full right to destroy you." Ked coughed. "How? Can he smite someone from afar, or something? What do you do in the meantime? Can't you – can you defend yourself?" "I could never!" Sigh backed away. "I'm only a servant, Ked. I have no right to harm anyone."

Ked shook her head; but as she moved towards Sigh the fae looked to the setting sun. "I must leave you. I have to return home." Before she could say anything, they had loped away.

*

The next day, Ked picked her way through ferns and ice. Snow had come early this year; not a particularly thick layer, but enough to crunch underfoot and soak into old boots.

The witchberry shrub was there. It had been cut down yesterday, an early frost had attacked its young shoots, and still it stood, bright green and just unveiling its first full leaves – a little piece of Spring. Ked grabbed the thing, crushing its leaves. Sap began to leak from a crooked stem as the golden ring glinted in the cold sunlight -

"Don't!" Ked let go and stood up. Sigh was gripping the oak tree tight, half-hiding behind it.

"Does the king know you're here?" "No, but -" "Can you take the band off?" Sigh grabbed their wrist, moving around the trunk to face Ked. "Ked. What are you -" "Come with me." She offered up a hand. "I can't offer much, but – but I won't own you. You deserve to be someone, not someone's – not someone's property."

Sigh's wide black eyes were not looking at Ked, but taking in everything; that prey-like look she thought they'd shook the habit of. She thought, too, that she was used to silence – but this was becoming painful.

Sigh slipped the golden band from their wrist, dropping it to encircle the witchberry sprout. They examined their arm, wonderingly, anxiously – it wasn't quite theirs anymore, except, of course, it was.

"I don't know the way out of here. To your lands, I mean." "I can show you," Ked laughed. "Of course I'll show you!"

Sigh's fingers were flexible, fragile-seeming, in Ked's small rough hand. Like roots curling around a rock in the soil, the fae crouched to follow the human, back the way she came, somewhere they had never been before.

***

Ked found no more witchberries after that.

The pair had a full year to themselves, a year of storms and hail. Sigh – who was working on a new name for themselves, but had not yet settled on one – proved to be a very skilled farmer, when they dared to leave the house. Despite waterlogged earth, snapped stems, and frosts both early and late, the two had nurtured enough at least to eat over the winter.

(Sigh seemed to consider food optional, but Ked, suspicious of self-sacrifice, insisted on sharing the burden of hunger.)

The next solstice was approaching – the nights were longer than the days by far, until life felt lived in a perpetual grey gloom.

At sunset after a vicious rainstorm, somebody knocked at Ked's door.

He looked human, and noble – or at least rich. The fur of his cloak was dry and unmatted; rain did not drip from the rings on each finger. "Thank you," he said, sweeping forward into Ked's house. "I am far from home, and I need somewhere to dry off." He looked about the room, while she only glared at him.

After a cold silence, he spoke. "You are not married, are you?" "Right enough." "Then I shall marry you!" His whole countenance changed – he swept down onto his knee, grabbed for (and missed) Ked's hands. "It cannot do to have a woman like you living alone. How sad! It is only right and honourable of me to -" "No thanks."

The noble's face struggled to hold onto its expression of awe, briefly scrunched into a look of rage and then settled on a flat stare. "Why ever not? Do you really think you can manage alone for the rest of your life?" "Been doing alright so far." Ked stared back. The noble stood, smoothing down his unwrinkled clothes. "And when you grow old? What then?" “I shall cross that bridge when I get to it, sir."

"...At least let me buy this house from you. I can replace everything in it – twice as good, twice as plentiful. It's of trivial worth to me." "I'm sure it is. But no."

Another long silence – eventually, the noble broke it, slamming his hand upon Ked's table. Immediately, the wilting cabbage sat on it sprang back into health, leaves regaining strength and colour before her eyes.

"Enough! Fine. I have power, human. You know that." The table itself was beginning to twist under his hand, new shoots pushing from knotholes. "I can do anything, give you anything you wish – just return what you stole from me!"

"I stole nothing."

The truth in her words struck him, staggered him. The king looked to the door, and Ked was all too happy to help him, throwing it open and pointing out to the chill, sodden night.

The king, though Sigh often feared it, never returned; and Ked – whose crops never failed and who entertained strange, fae visitors in her lonely house – passed into legend, at least for a brief while.

If she enjoyed her new fame, she never said so.

#writing #fairies #woah watch out it's frilly

[bellatrixobsessed1]

A Flame For A Cabbage (Part 13)

Azula pushes her stall down the vacant streets. She is the only one outside, she is the only one with the sense not to panic buy toilet paper. What she does not know is that the toilet paper has served its purpose. The streets are vacant because the void has taken its annual sacrifices and those who had not been possessed and driven to leaping into its swirling depths are not yet awake because it is 3:15 in the morning. This is when Azula starts her day. It is not when normal people start their day. No less, Azula finds that she is more productive when she rises at 3:15. Her mother had once said that it is another sign that she is ‘literally Satan but with a top knot and cute clothes.’  

She finds herself what she believes is an optimal place to set up her stall. It is a shady spot nestled between a cafe and an inn with a lovely maple tree. She picks out a cabbage and smiles. Today will be different, she will have her sales.

She spies her first customer and holds out a cabbage. “Has your toilet paper saved you?” She begins.

The man shakes his head.

“I didn’t think so.” She replies. “See, I tried to tell you, but you did not listen. Luckily for you, I am a generous person. I am still going to allow you to buy a medicinal cabbage.”

The man seems to recoil but he reaches for his pocket. She thinks that he is going to draw out a few copper pieces. Instead he draws a single square of toilet paper and wipes his nose. “No thanks.”

“Good morning.” Azula greets a woman. She thinks that it is the soldier who had abolished her cabbage stand the morning before so abruptly drops her sales pitch. She is not usually one to run, but she is also not one to carelessly put herself into a losing situation. She hustles to pack away her stall. She thinks that she will have better success elsewhere anyhow.

“Halt!” The soldier shouts. “Merchant! Get back here!” The woman is waving something at her. She picks up her pace.

.oOo.

“Father, I have important news.” Sie begins.

“Sie, I am trying to organize my rock garden, you know that I always organize my rock garden at exactly 5:30 in the morning.” He picks up a plastic flamingo, this one is electric blue in color. He strokes it lovingly, the shade reminds him of something important to him. Something that he has lost long ago. Tenderly, he sits it by the rest of the blue flamingos. He moves onto the next one, a standard pink lawn flamingo. This one he puts at the center, for it is the flamingo of the day. This is how he organizes his rock garden. There are no rocks in his rock garden. There is no war in Ba Sing Se. There is no God in the Fire Nation.

There are only flamingos in Ozai’s rock garden. There is only the false illusion of safety in Ba Sing Se. There is only Iroh’s unwavering wrath in the Fire Nation.

As Ozai picks up a flamboyant green flamingo with sunglasses, the Pterodactyl of the West screeches in his cell.

Sie does not get to inform his father of the news.

.oOo.

With her stall once again erect in a new, slightly less comfortable location, Azula decides that she is going to have to take a more direct approach. She looks at the charred body next to her and recalls that this is not normal for the Fire Nation. She also notes that it is, in fact, bad for business to have a body laying around so she quickly pushes her cabbage stall over it.

That ought to fix it. If you push it under the bed or shove it in to the closet then you cannot see it. And if you cannot see it then the mess is gone. No one can see the corpse. So the corpse is not there. It can fade from existence as though it had never been a part of it all. Such is the nature of things. Object permanence is meaningless. It is like time which is also meaningless. Time is not only meaningless, but also a social construct which is why Azula does not have a problem being awake at 3:15 in the morning, because it is actually 5:30 (which is still questionable early). But not for Azula, because Azula believes that it is 3:15 and therefor it is 3:15. Now if you were to ask Ozai, he would say that it is 5:30. And if you asked Zuko, he might say that it is 1:00 in the morning and ask you why you are waking him so early. If you asked Iroh what time it is, he would tell you that he is in a jail cell so time is twice as meaningless as it was before and so he does not know what time it is. So you are best not asking the time at all because, really, how are you to know who is correct? Just who has decided what time to go with anyways?

While the unimportance of time as it pertains to a person was being discussed, several customers have came and went. Each of them hilariously rejecting the socially inept cabbage merchant’s offers.

Azula grows increasingly frustrated. “You are going to buy a cabbage.” She informs the first person she sees. “It is not debatable. You are going to…” the man walks away from her as though she is nothing and no one at all. She is left to ball her fist and wave it at him in a silent display of frustration.

Jet’s words echo in her mind. And maybe he is right, maybe her business will crumble...   It could be that the height of her luck had been on the wall all of those days ago. Azula wanders back to her stall, picks out her favorite cabbage of the day, and hugs it to her chest.

She isn’t feeling so well. It is not the illness that plagues the Fire Nation streets. Nor is it the virus that is currently making a mess of a different dimension entirely. It isn’t the black plague either. It could be seasonal allergies--yes, she thinks that it is seasonal allergies. But it is also something else. Something… Emotional.

She is feeling sad. The merchant isn’t sure that she has ever felt sad before. Has she ever felt anything save for pride and determination, and more recently, angry and frustration?

Azula pulls her keens up to her chest and hugs the cabbage closer. A single tear escapes and slips down her cheek. The wind stirs up her hair and rustles the leaves of her cabbages. She can practically hear them whispering, “it’s going to be okay, Azula.”

She is skeptical. But there might be hope yet. She takes a deep breath, she has never done this before. Never.

She puts a, ‘out for lunch, back in 15’ sign on her cabbage stall and heads for the Fire Nation prison.

.oOo.

“Father, I still have news.” Sie tries again. This time Mai and TyLee are standing behind him because they need some screen time. But they aren’t going to do anything particularly important.  

“Not now.” Ozai says. “I have important things to do.” Such important business consists of inspecting his toothbrush, bristle by bristle. This is something he routinely does after he organizes his rock garden.

“But father, this is important.” Sie speaks. He can wait, for Ozai is on the last three bristles. But upon that task’s completion he sits upon his throne and seems to stare directly into the flames around it. Sie knows not to interrupt Ozai when he is peering into the flames, seeking out divine wisdom. Mostly the fire simply crackles and shrieks incoherently like a thousand voices from the ninth ring of hell as fires tend to do. But occasionally the fire will crackle and tell Ozai that his beard is pretty. This makes Ozai blush but in a very manly way.

Mai, growing impatient ages up a year. And then one more after that.

Sokka remains the same age though. As do June, Toph, Aang, Katara, Zhao, Haru, Azula, Jet, Ozai, Zuko, and Lo. But Li. Li is not exactly 83 while her sister is only 82. Teo, in his wheelchair also ages a year. And Earth Kingdom Azula is suddenly 8 years old again and her adoptive mother weeps in despair. We cannot be sure of TyLee’s age. Even TyLee doesn’t know TyLee’s age.

“Father?” Sie coughs.

The man only narrows his eyes and concentrates harder on the fire as a good Fire Lord does. Sie shakes his head sadly. Things have been weird between he and his father these days. Ever since he got home. He thinks that his father resents him for some reason but that does not make sense for he has been the perfect daughter. “Father the Earth Kingdom is planning an invasion.”

“Hmmm…” Ozai says taking a sip of his coffee. “Nope.”

“Wh-what do you mean, nope?”

Ozai turns away from the fire but only for a moment. “Nope, there will be no invasion.”

“But there is going to be an eclipse.”

Ozai shakes his head.

“Yes.” Sie inists. “The Earth King…”

Ozai plugs his ears and says, “la la la la, I can’t hear you.”

“Father…”

“There won’t be an invasion because I forbid it.”

“Father,” TyLee starts.

“He’s my father, not yours.”

“Ooohhh, I thought that his name was father.”

Sie shakes his head.

“Sie’s father, TyLee begins again, “we were told that…”

The Fire Lord raises a silencing hand. “If you speak without permission even once more, I will teach you the same lesson that I taught my son.”

Sie shudders violently, not a day goes by where Zuko doesn’t talk about the horrors of calculus derivatives and trigonometry. His face still bears the scar given to him with The Math itself punished him for his wrong answer. Not that Ozai hadn’t summoned The Math in the first place.

“Please no.” TyLee squeaks.

“But father, we should be making preparations…”

“Preparations for what?”

“The invasion.”

“What invasion!” Ozai roars, and with his rage the fire flares. “There is no invasion. I already said ‘la la la’.”

Sie, fearing punishment and The Math, backs down. He clenches his teeth and hopes that he is wrong about the eclipse. “Come on, TyLee. Mai.” He beckons for them to follow. Boredom satisfied, Mai ages down a year again. The others do not.

“Ozai!” Greets a chipper and cheerful high-pitched voice. “Did you trim your beard!? It looks hella fine!”

Ozai smiles. It is the only time that is black and vile soul sees even a faint pin-prick of light and goodness.

#Avatar #Azula #Cabbage Man #Ozai #Mai #TyLee #Fanfiction