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x--daughters-of-darkness--x · 3 years

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HALESTORM: Behind-The-Scenes Footage From Making Of 'Back From The Dead' Video

HALESTORM has shared behind-the-scenes footage from the making of the official video for the band's new single, "Back From The Dead". The track is taken from the group's upcoming fifth full-length album, due in 2022. Directed by Dustin Haney (Noah Cyrus, Luke Combs) and produced by Revolution Pictures, the clip features frontwoman Lzzy Hale and the rest of the band in a morgue and cemetery somewhere between life and death.

Lzzy says: "'Back From The Dead' is about survival, not in a physical sense, even though I know we all have been touched by death especially these last few years. This song is personal and written from a mental health perspective. I wanted to give myself and the world a hard rock song we could shout out loud as the gates opened again. I was on the edge of this world getting completely lost in oblivion, but even though it was the harder of two choices, I didn't just let the darkness and depression in my mind dig me an early grave. I didn't just sit and let it take me. I've erased my name from my headstone, so save your prayers, I'm back! I hope this song, as I pass it on to you, reminds YOU of your strength individually and that you are not alone."

She continues: "The video was so much fun to film! Dustin Haney is an amazing director. Dustin and his team really helped bring my words to life and the video is one of the most cinematic pieces we've done in years! I hope this song, as I pass it on…reminds YOU of YOUR individual strength and that you are not Alone. Raise your horns!"

By breaking rules, bucking trends, and busting down doors, HALESTORM has surged through rock 'n' roll on a singular path without compromise or apology. Along the way, the Pennsylvania-bred and Nashville-based quartet — Lzzy Hale (vocals, guitar), Arejay Hale (drums), Joe Hottinger (guitar) and Josh Smith (bass) — has collected a Grammy Award, scored successive number ones at radio, garnered multiple gold and platinum certifications, and performed to sold out crowds on five continents.

Going against the grain again in 2021, the band weathered the flames of chaos in 2020 and returned stronger than ever with their most empowering and undeniable anthems to date.

"Throughout the pandemic, I was writing a lot of melancholic and hopeless songs about the ups and downs of the world," admits Lzzy. "I've been in this group longer than I haven't been in it. We've always had shows. Even when I was 13 years old, we had a couple of bowling alley gigs once a month. This was the first time I didn't know if we would ever play again. However, I started to use music in the same way I did as a teenager—to get myself through this situation that was plaguing us all. I sidestepped and said, 'Let's keep our heads up, get our attitude back, be a light in the dark for a second, and celebrate the fact we're surviving and there's hope for the future.' So, we started to write songs that were a reminder to ourselves of who we are and what we're capable of. That became the mission statement."

In a way, it's always been the mission statement…

Since roaring to life in 1998, HALESTORM has uplifted audiences with a combination of sonic ass-kicking, provocative songwriting, and unshakable hooks. The four-piece received a Grammy Award in the category of "Best Hard Rock/Metal Performance" for "Love Bites (So Do I)". The song also minted them as the first female-fronted band to hit #1 on the Active Rock radio charts. Thus far, their discography spans two gold albums "Halestorm" and "The Strange Case Of..." , a platinum single "I Miss The Misery", and two gold singles "Here's To Us" and "I Get Off". Between surpassing one billion cumulative streams worldwide, they've notched two consecutive Top 10 debuts on the Billboard Top 200 with "Into The Wild Life" (2015) and "Vicious" (2018). The latter represented a critical high watermark with Rolling Stone citing it as "a muscular, adventurous, and especially relevant rock record." In its wake, "Uncomfortable" emerged as their fourth #1 at rock radio and earned their second Grammy Award nomination, while Loudwire christened HALESTORM "Rock Artist Of The Decade" in 2019. Not to mention, they have supported everyone from HEAVEN & HELL and Alice Cooper to Joan Jett on the road.

Even as the world went dormant during 2020, Lzzy remained prolific. She lent her voice to collaborations with everyone from Dee Snider of TWISTED SISTER, IN THIS MOMENT, APOCALYPTICA, and Mark Morton of LAMB OF GOD to EVANESCENCE, Cory Marks, and Mongolian phenomenon THE HU. Additionally, she joined forces with a trio of legends — Corey Taylor of SLIPKNOT, Scott Ian of ANTHRAX and original SLAYER drummer Dave Lombardo — for the theme song to Netflix's "Thunder Force". Plus, the group contributed a cover of THE WHO's "Long Live Rock" to the documentary of the same name. Expanding her presence across television, she hosted the AXS TV "A Year In Music" series, joined the cast of Hit Parader's "No Cover" as a judge, provided the singing voice for Bella Thorne in the Prime Video hit "Paradise City" and launched her own show "Raise Your Horns" on Rolling Live. On the channel, she appeared in Mike Garson's David Bowie tribute with a performance of "Moonage Daydream" alongside Broadway star Lena Hall. She also participated in the platform's Ronnie James Dio tribute, supporting the Stand Up And Shout Cancer Fund.

At the same time, she remained a huge proponent of encouraging the dialogue around mental health. She participated in a Grammy Mental Health panel and empowered the next generation of rock musicians as the keynote speaker at the Little Kids Rock Modern Band Summit. She also made history as Gibson Guitars' first-ever female ambassador.

"I've learned a lot about myself through all of these different projects," she admits. "I said 'yes' to various adventures, and it made me a better artist."

Working out of her home studio in Nashville, Lzzy and the band channeled this renewed spirit into the music at the onset of 2021. Collaborating with Scott Stevens of THE EXIES, the musicians hit their stride and cooked up the single 'Back From The Dead'. Dramatic distortion and drums rumble as she screams, "I'm back from the dead!" HALESTORM come out swinging as punchy verses give way to a call-and-response chorus shocked to life with a searing solo and thunderous groove.

"We needed a reintroduction," she exclaims. "We needed something that simply said, 'Hey, we're back'. The live show is the time we feel as truly alive as we can be. When you walk out on stage with your guitar strapped on, your guys are next to you, and you have an audience looking at you, it's everything. We're celebrating the fact we're all back together again. Whatever it is that was trying to destroy that part of myself and my bandmates that our fans need couldn't do it. It failed miserably. We're fucking back."

From the moment the band graced the stage at a secret Nashville gig, they were indeed "back," albeit louder, heavier, and emboldened by an unbelievable year. Amped up to jump back in, their tour schedule took shape with festival dates followed by a co-headline run with EVANESCENCE in the fall.

Readying their fifth full-length album, they're delivering the soundtrack for a world ready to roar again.

"We've lost a lot of people, but we can start healing again," she leaves off. "I appreciate the little things even more. I don't only feel this confidence in myself, but also in every one of my band members. We're not the same people, none of us could ever be. HALESTORM is my source of my joy. It's my connection. It's the closest thing to my religion. We're moving forward. With this next album, I hope we're able to create a greater sense of community. We have a beautiful opportunity. When you listen to it, I want you to feel like you can walk through any fire."

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#lzzy hale #Halestorm #Back From The Dead

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runtedfiction · 4 years

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A/N: for zutara week day 1! i’ve only watched half of korra so i don’t know what actually happens in canon, only that zutara didn’t 😔

AO3

* * *

Toph is the first to leave. Her final wave is larger than life, her smile brighter than the sun, as she and the Bei Fong security team kickstart their ostrich horses. “See ya later!”

Katara watches her go from the steps of the Jasmine Dragon, laughing and crying.

“And so she sneaks in one last blind joke,” Sokka says, rubbing at his eyes. Suki rubs his back. “Those Bei Fongs better take care of her.”

“It’s ok,” Aang says, also wiping at tears. He slips his hand into Katara’s, a quiet show of affection that she knows everyone notices. “This isn’t where the journey ends!”

“How can you be so sure about that, Aang?” she asks. “Sure, there’s lots of rebuilding to do, but I’m not sure if we can exactly do it together and—”

“We can,” Zuko cuts in. Though it’s been so long, she’s reminded of the first time she saw him in the Jasmine Dragon. But now here he is, hair down and shaggy, the happiest she’s ever seen him.

“Aang and I can’t rebuild the world alone,” he says. A glimmer of hope takes root in her heart. “We’re going to need all your help. Aang and I want to hold annual Summit Weeks for the next three years to fully realize our vision of peace; we would be honored to have all of Team Avatar there.”

“Of course,” Sokka says. “No brainer, I’ll be there.”

“Me too,” says Suki. “The Kyoshi Warriors are honored to serve.”

“I’ll be there too,” Katara echos. So much has changed in the past year, and she wonders what will change in the next. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

* * *

Katara, Aang, and Sokka leave Ba Sing Se for the Southern Water Tribe, and Team Avatar’s first year apart begins.

Katara and Sokka set on rebuilding their home, bringing in new technology and infrastructure. They sit next to their father at council meetings, paving paths of future greatness. Aang sticks around for the first three months before he leaves too to restore the air temples. “Just like you’re building a future here for new generations of waterbenders,” he explains, hand on top of hers, “I’m going to do the same for airbenders. We need our homes back.”

He promises to visit once every few weeks, and Katara sees him off with a kiss. He blushes like he always does, and an overwhelming fondness fills her. Aang may be 113, but he’s 13 in her eyes, giddy to hold her close and call her his.

After he leaves, Katara forgets the rest of the world, only remembering it when Aang comes back full of stories. But one morning a messenger hawk is spotted on the horizon. She drops her scrolls to sprint to it-- Zuko . They haven’t spoken since Ba Sing Se, and she fumbles with the red ribbon around the message, shaking with excitement.

Katara,

I know it’s been a while since you’ve heard from me, and I hope you’re doing well. As always, thank you for doing your part in ending the war. I also don’t know how I can thank you enough for saving my life; every day I’m reminded in some way.

Now that I’m settled in, I want to discuss plans for the new era of peace. For the Southern Water Tribe, this means reparations from the Fire Nation and electing a representative as a point of contact for our interim council. I’m drafting proposals and will be sending them over shortly; please let me know if I should be sending them to you, your father, or Sokka.

Again, I hope you’re doing well. The Summit Week will be a few months from now, and I hope to see you there. Write back soon.

Your friend,

Zuko

P.S. I know this letter may sound stuffy, and I’m Fire Lord now, but some part of me will always be the 16 year old rehearsing “Hello, Zuko here” and hoping for your forgiveness. Also, I hope Sokka’s not offended that I only sent this to you.

Sokka sticks his nose in the air when he reads this. “I am offended.”

“Oh grow up,” Katara says, laughing. “Think about how great it’ll be to see everyone again soon.”

Will Toph be taller, or Zuko’s hair shorter? Will Suki and Ty Lee go to the Summit? And speaking of the Summit, what can she advocate for during it? Katara picks up a pen and begins writing a reply, daydreaming about seeing her friends again in the back of her mind.

* * *

“Twinkle toes, I missed you so much .”

Toph runs towards Appa and gives them all a hug as soon as they land. She’s a bit taller, and behind her is Zuko, hair a bit longer, who joins the hug as soon as Katara pulls him in.

“Where’s Suki?” Sokka asks.

“The Kyoshi Warriors insisted on being private security for the event,” Zuko explains. “But Suki, come on out. Your boyfriend is eager to see you, no one’s looking to kill me here.”

“Suki!” Sokka runs to her as soon she slips out of the shadows, and Katara’s heart fills. Everyone’s together again.

Later that evening, Zuko joins them for dinner in their suite. It’s a curious affair--fire flakes alongside stewed sea prunes, cabbage noodles, and tofu. Sokka eats like a vacuum, and Katara is pleased that Aang has so many choices. She wonders if Zuko did research beforehand.

“I hope you’ve all been briefed on the schedule for the coming week,” Zuko says. “And I know it seems like a lot. But rest assured that every event will lead to an action item on my docket.”

“And,” he continues, “it might be boring. Insufferable, even. But to the world, we’re one of the most important teams guiding things forward.”

“Don’t worry, Zuko, we can do it,” Katara says, and he looks at her with a smile. For the past few months they’ve exchanged letters about rebuilding the Southern Water Tribe (they’ll ask the North for funds too), outlawing bloodbending (Zuko promised to help), and the new name of the four nations.

“The United Republic of Nations,” Aang says, digging into his sweet buns. “I like it.”

* * *

During the recess of The State of Bending talk, Zuko finds Katara and places a hand on her shoulder.

“People like Yakone are the worst,” he says. “But it’s going to be fine, don’t worry.”

“He’s pond scum!” Katara hisses. “I hate people who lie like that. And calling me not only a child but also a coward, with that look in his eye--Aang had to stop me from bloodbending him right there and then.”

“He’s pond scum, yes,” Zuko agrees, “but all you have to do is hear him out and make sure the interim councilmembers hear your arguments. I’ll back you up.”

“I know, I know. But still, pond scum!”

“Yup,” Zuko says, a smile on his face. “He’s cold ashes. We can take him.”

“You’re right.” Katara thinks of the times they followed each other into battle. This is no different; if anything, at least they’re not putting their lives on the line. “Thanks, Zuko.”

“No problem.” His smile grows soft. “And as always, I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

He follows her back into the meeting room where she makes history, her eyes glowing with the conviction she soon becomes famous for.

* * *

Almost two years later, after another Summit Week passes and just before the third one, Zuko sends Katara a letter that begins with It’s official! and ends with a copy of the new legislation outlawing bloodbending.

And in the middle of the Southern Air Temple’s training grounds, Katara jumps and yells with excitement.

Within a minute Aang is by her side, concern in his eyes. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes yes yes!” She kisses him on the cheek, and he looks confused. “The Council passed that bloodbending legislation! Oh, Aang, this is so great.”

“Oh yeah--awesome!” He says. “I’m really happy for you!”

“I can’t believe it actually worked,” Katara holds the letter close to her heart. “I can’t believe it!”

“I know, this is so good for you,” Aang says, his voice a bit rushed. “And I’m sorry but—”

“You have to go tend to the Air Acolytes,” Katara says. “I’m not in danger, don’t worry! You can hurry back.”

“Thanks for always understanding,” Aang says, giving her a quick kiss. Then he leaves in a gust of air, and Katara sits on the soft grass, feeling the breeze.

Aang resists political involvement, citing the Avatar’s need for neutrality, so it’s understandable that he isn’t as excited as her. Aang needs to preserve the traditions of the Air Nomads, so it’s understandable that he can’t be with her all the time. Aang is constantly called to stop civil wars or investigate malicious spirits, so it’s understandable that Katara sometimes goes a week without seeing him even if he asked her to live with him for a bit.

Katara understands these things, and yet some part of her yearns for the South Pole, for anywhere that feels like home. She’s acutely aware that Aang’s duty is to the world, and yet some part of her feels so small and alone.

At least there’s this letter. It's confirmation that her work these past few years has been worth it. And if the rumors are true, the nation heads are working on a new permanent council to govern the United Republic of Nations.

The era of peace is being fully realized, and Katara wonders how she can ask for a seat on the council.

A few weeks later, just as she begins writing a letter to ask her father if he could recommend her ( I know I’m barely 18, I know I only have experience with our small tribe, but I know I’m the best person for the job ), a message arrives.

I’ve written to your father to ask him to nominate you for the Southern Water Tribe Representative on the new council, Zuko says. If I could recommend you myself, I would. If he nominates you (and I don’t see why he wouldn’t), prepare to defend that nomination at the upcoming Summit.

Katara nearly cries, and Aang places a hand on top of hers. Even the sun seems to shine brighter; a leaf dances in through the window of the study room.

“Is everything alright?” he asks.

“Everything’s great,” she says. The thought of potentially moving to Republic City as a councilmember (and thereby leaving Aang’s side for some time) briefly flickers in her mind. “I have some great news.”

* * *

The third and final Summit Week comes, and Katara has the daunting task of defending her nomination in front of the nations’ leaders. Even though this really only means speaking in front of the Earth King and Northern Water Tribe Chief (Aang, Zuko, and her father are also in the room, but do they really count?), this is turned against her.

“Your father, partner, and longtime friend are likely going to vote for your approval. You already have three out of five votes secured. What do you say to people who claim nepotism?”

“With all due respect,” Zuko cuts in, a bit angry, “this question seems unfair, and—”

“It’s ok,” Katara says, voice measured. “People are going to say this. And to that I say that my accomplishments in the Southern Water Tribe, from securing and using reparations funds to build our growing nation to advocating for all waterbenders, not just the men, speaks volumes. I also originated the legislation that’s now in place to outlaw bloodbending. I pushed for these initiatives with the help of the people you just named, but ultimately I did it.”

Zuko smiles. He remembers some old campfire story Sokka told about Sapphire Fire as he watches Katara talk her through every sticky question. She’s going to do great on The Council, no doubt.

She’s already amazing.

* * *

Katara sighs in relief when the nation heads confirm her council seat.

Team Avatar celebrates over dinner. Only it isn’t a private room this time, like it was two years ago--this time around, it’s in the Fire Nation palace, in the biggest hall Katara has ever seen. Everyone invited to Summit Week dines together, the golden walls housing the noisy chatter of the most important people in the world.

Zuko prepared formal clothes for them tailored to their respective traditions, and as always, his quiet attention to detail never fails to amaze her.

“Tonight, we feast!” Sokka says, opening their table’s meal with a toast. “To my sister, who has never failed to be annoying and fight for the things she cares about. The Southern Water Tribe and the world are in debt to you, Councilwoman Katara.”

“To Katara!” Aang says, and everyone follows suit. Their glasses clink together, and Katara feels at home for the first time in a long time.

Toph tells them about all the lies she’s heard today (“People even lie about the kinds of tea they like, how weird is that!”), Suki pretends to chi block Sokka when he steals food off her plate, and Aang and Zuko trade friendly insults about who’s taller.

It’s perfect.

* * *

Dear Zuko,

Thanks so much for your support in nominating me to the council. You beat me to asking my father for his recommendation, and your confidence in me means the world. For what it’s worth, the way you and Aang have been dealing with the newly freed Fire Nation colonies is incredible. The world is lucky to have you both.

Moving to Republic City is going to be tricky, but I’ll be there before the end of month. I hope to see you there not only for my swearing in ceremony, but also for advising sessions. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon. Still kind of surreal!

Speaking of surreal things, I can’t believe you’ve been raising a dragon. On the one mission I was allowed to join Aang on, we found a herd of sky bison; they’re not extinct either! Appa’s babies are going to be so cute.

And finally, speaking of cute things, I’ve attached a painting that an Air Acolyte child did of you. Look--the scar is on the right side.

Your friend,

Katara

* * *

Moving to Republic City is tricky because Aang’s schedule collides with, well, everything.

Katara brings it up one night over dinner. “How is visiting each other going to work?”

“I don’t know,” Aang says. He picks up some silken tofu gently with his chopsticks, careful to not let it split. “This next month the Southern Air Temple is pretty set, but there’s two more to fill with Acolytes. There’s still rumors of civil unrest in the freed colonies. Zuko said he wanted an Air Temple Island next to Republic City, right? Maybe I could stay there?”

“Zuko wants your supervision on it, but the Island might not be ready for construction for another year at least. What if you stayed in the city with me for some time?”

“I don’t know,” Aang says with a sigh. “There’s too much to do, and I think the Eastern Air Temple needs full restoration next to establish a spiritual home. I’m really sorry, I know this is your dream and I’m making it difficult.”

“It’s ok, don’t worry,” Katara says. “You’re the Avatar. You serve the world.”

“I wish I could do more for you too though.” Aang looks remorseful, and Katara places her hand over his. He hesitates, then asks, “Do you--do you think you could ever take a week off and find me?”

Katara pulls her hand back. “What? No. The Council has so much to do, I even just wrote this whole Constitution proposal, and I don’t think that I could just leave for a week without that having serious conseq—”

“Oh, yeah, wait, I really didn’t mean to imply that leaving your job to see me wouldn’t have serious consequences.” Aang grabs her hand, and she appreciates the quick backtrack.

But it still stings. “Our jobs aren’t equally important and that’s ok,” she says, “but we have to figure out a system to see each other. Do you know a rough timeline of what next year would look like for you yet?”

“No,” Aang says, quiet. “Like I said, there’s too much to do. All I know...all I know is that I don’t want to feel like I’m losing you because you’re my forever girl.”

“Aang, you’re not losing me.” A beat passes, and she hesitates. “But forever is--forever is a really long time and I don’t know how to think about that, let’s focus on the next few years maybe--”

“I was trapped in ice for 100 years, Katara!” She can see tears brimming in his eyes, and it’s hard to comfort him when she’s the one doing the hurting. “A few years is nothing. I might have been trapped forever, if not for you or Sokka--I know how precious time is, but also how to wait, and I know I want you in my time.”

“I know that’s what you want,” Katara says, voice soft. And the next words to come out of her mouth are dangerous, something she only thinks when she’s alone. When Aang leaves her with a gust of wind. When she thinks about how the Southern Water Tribe might not even feel like home anymore; Sokka says so much has changed in the last year she’s been gone. “If we can’t see each other for the next few years, I’m not sure what I want.”

Aang is silent, and Katara’s stomach sinks. How could I say that?

But also, her heart soars— thank God I was able to say that.

“I understand,” he finally says. He stands and picks up their empty bowls. “You need to find your way. And for now, that isn’t with me.”

Tears well in her eyes. She nods.

* * *

Katara,

Aang told me what happened. I really hope you’re doing ok. When Mai broke up with me, I was devastated, but I understood that she wanted more out of life than watching other people live it. Not to say that’s what you’re doing, but more that I understood her perspective, much like I’m sure Aang will understand yours. (I realize this is completely unsolicited personal advice advice. Don’t worry, I’ve attached suggested edits to your constitution proposal to this letter.)

But really, if you need anything to get to Republic City, let me know. Druk’s gotten big enough to fly now, and the palaces always have empty rooms ready to receive guests. I can also always make arrangements.

Your Friend,

Zuko

(Aang still insists on dropping her off to Republic City, which Katara knows is his way of saying sorry. When they arrive, trying very hard not to cry, she hugs Aang as tight as she can before sliding off Appa.

“Write often,” she says. “And thank you.”

“I will,” he says. “And I should be thanking you, so don’t worry. I’ll see you later.”

He leaves with a defeated look on his face, and that’s when Katara lets herself cry.)

* * *

Living in Republic City still doesn’t feel real. Katara has never had a place to call her own before, and the idea of this apartment being hers is foreign.

At her swearing in ceremony, Zuko and her father are the only familiar faces in the crowd. Sokka, Toph, and Suki are all home as far as she knows, and Aang is at the Eastern Air Temple. But Zuko and her father bring flowers and words of congratulations, and that’s more than enough.

“Your mother would be so proud,” Hakoda says. “I knew even before you and Zuko sent those letters that you’d be the one for the job.”

“Thanks Dad,” Katara says, holding him tight for a hug. “I wish Mom were here to see this.”

“Me too.”

Next is Zuko, holding a bouquet of fire lilies. “I don’t remember if you like flowers, but I figured they’re a nice formality. Congrats, Councilwoman Katara.”

She holds the flowers and pulls him in close for a hug. “They’re beautiful. Thanks.”

A few weeks later, Katara finishes the first official draft of the United Republic’s Constitution. It’s one thing to read the historical documents that shaped each nation, and another to write them herself. Undeniable rights, government structure, due process--it's all she can think about for weeks.

She sends copies to all her friends, looking for advice. But it’s nice to catch up in the letters too; Suki has moved to the Southern Water Tribe for the time being. Sokka says Master Pakku and Gran Gran are disgustingly in love. Even Aang replies--it’s short and Katara can hear the hurt in his voice, but he’s trying, and that’s all she can ask for.

Zuko is the only person whose feedback she can hear in person. When he’s not advising the greater Council or overseeing construction of Air Temple Island he’s in Katara’s office, dropping off scrolls and occasionally serving tea.

"The Jasmine Dragon’s White Dragon,” Katara says, reading the label on the tin that Zuko carefully measures leaves from. He laughs. “What’s so funny?”

“My uncle once drank something thinking it was white dragon, but it was white jade. And you think it wouldn’t be too bad, but he was covered in rashes for days. Everywhere.”

Katara smiles. “That’s horrible.”

“It’s ok, we figured it out.” Zuko’s eyes have a faraway look, one that Katara often sees in herself. So much has changed in the past five years, but sometimes it’s easy to get lost in thinking about what it was like when the world was ending.

“Anyway,” Zuko says. “I have a free night a month from now, and we should get dinner at this new place I hear is good.”

“Kwong’s Cuisine?”

“Yup, that’s the one!” Zuko clears his throat. “Oh, and, to clarify, other people should come too if they’re free. Like, if Sokka is in town, or Suki, or Toph, or Aang. Although, I guess maybe not Aa—”

“Zuko,” Katara says with a laugh. “It’s fine. Kwong’s Cuisine a month from now sounds great.”

“Ok, sorry. Anyway, the Constitution…”

When he leaves, Katara finds herself smiling. Zuko’s cute when he’s flustered.

* * *

Katara only has one set of clothes fancy enough for Kwong’s, and it’s the set that Zuko gave her at the Summit a year ago.

Zuko notices when she arrives. “Are these the—”

“Yeah,” she says. “I guess it might be a bit embarrassing, but I don’t have much time to go shopping.”

“It’s not embarrassing, and that makes sense.” She takes a seat across from him. “If anything, it’s embarrassing how many robes I have. They have stewed sea prunes here, by the way. ”

“My favorite!”

They order a strange blend of Fire Nation and Water Tribe foods, but to their credit, the wait staff says nothing, only bowing deeply.

Katara refills their tea cups. “Speaking of sea prunes--even at the Summit, four years ago, when you had them served for dinner. How on earth did you remember that Sokka and I liked them?”

“You said it one random night years ago,” Zuko says. “And maybe Sokka said it in his sleep. The night we all came to Ember Island, I think.”

Katara’s impressed. “Wow, you remember that so clearly.”

Zuko nods, and there’s that faraway look in his eyes again. “Everything in the days after I joined Team Avatar and leading up to that final Agni Kai I remember very clearly.”

“Me too.”

Katara places her hand over his, briefly, to pull him back in the present. It seems to work.

“But hey,” she says. “Look where we are now! And to be honest, sometimes what I remember most is how mean I was to you in the beginning.”

What she doesn’t say is what she actually remembers most is Zuko jumping in front of lightning for her.

He laughs. “I remember you threatening to kill me if I ever stepped out of line.”

“Hey, hey,” Katara says. “Again, like I said, look where we are now! A valid point at the time though.”

“I know,” Zuko says. He’s handsome when he smiles too.

A few weeks after Kwong’s, Katara replays the night in her head and steps out of the shower, bending herself dry. Fuck, she thinks. I'm in love with Zuko.

* * *

Katara can’t pinpoint exactly when she started having feelings for Zuko, but now that she’s in the thick of it, it doesn’t matter.

What matters is that when she signs the Constitution, he hands her the pen. When rumors of bloodbending start, he helps her squash illegal training camps. When Toph joins the police force, he’s at her side to welcome her on the steps of City Hall.

“Sugar Queen, Sparky!” Toph opens her arms for a hug and Katara sprints into it. “It’s good to see you.”

“Toph, it’s so good to see you.”

“Orientation starts in a few minutes, so I have to go. But Sparky, that life-changing field trip--I still need it. I expect an itinerary by the end of the week.”

Zuko smiles. “You got it.”

The curious thing about being in love with the Fire Lord is that it’s not the grand things that Katara likes. It’s the small things. The way he always remembers to ask her how she’s doing, or how he sends tins of white dragon tea to her office. Even when she doesn’t see him for a week (Katara knows Zuko must be horribly busy and doesn’t understand how he has the energy to fly to Republic City on a weekly basis), thoughts of him live in her mind.

And so it’s terrifying but also easy after their second dinner at Kwong’s to move in a bit closer than she normally would.

“Thanks for flying me home,” Katara says. “I’m sure Druk wants to go home now too.”

“He doesn’t like the city. It’s too dense for him.” Zuko’s hard to read, as usual, and it’s terrifying to bet their friendship on this, but she knows she has to. “It might be ti—”

She cuts him off to kiss him, and for a second, time stops. But then another second passes, and another, and Katara is pulling back because ok, wow, holy shit was that the wrong thing to do .

But then he pulls her in tighter, kisses her more deeply, and happiness fills Katara the way fire lilies drink in rain after a drought.

“I love you,” he says, arms tight around her waist as he pulls her in for a hug. “I love you, and sometimes it feels like I’ve loved you all my life.”

* * *

Fire Nation summers are unforgivingly hot, and in the last few months of her term as councilwoman, Katara finds herself spending more time in the palace with Zuko.

She’s nominated Sokka to take her place on the United Republic Council, and he and Suki are moving to Republic City next weekend. It’s just in time for the unveiling of Air Temple Island. Aang will be the guest of honor, and Toph his security.

“I don’t think we’ve all been together since the summit four years ago,” Zuko says. They’re feeding the turtleducks at sunset, the only time of day when it finally starts cooling down.

She bends little ripples in the water, and the turtleducklings quack with delight.

“It’ll be great to see everyone again,” Katara says. “And I can’t wait for Sokka to start working so I don’t have to anymore.”

“Have you given more thought to what you want to do once you leave?”

She nods. “Yes, but there’s so much to do. I could train new healers or new waterbenders in the south. I could lobby for special interests like the former colonists. I could travel the world for personal enjoyment. Right now I’m leaning towards going back to the south.”

“That does sound like a lot to think about.”

“I know,” Katara says. “And I once fought with Aang about it, but now I understand. Sometimes it feels like there’s too much to do, and it’s easy to feel like you don’t know where to get started.”

“I have a suggestion,” Zuko says, “if it’s hard to get started. You could stay here, with me.”

Her heart skips a beat. “Stay?”

“Stay,” he says, like it’s simple, obvious even, for Katara to uproot her life and live in the Fire Nation.

To be fair, it wouldn’t be much uprooting. All she has is her apartment in Republic City, and even that doesn’t have many things in it.

“Hmm,” she says. “I never really thought about that.”

Zuko takes her hand, laces her fingers through his. Her heart aches at how gentle it is. “Maybe I’m not suggesting so much as I’m asking. You can split your time between here and the South Pole, even just three to four months out of the year here would be fine.”

“You’d really want me to stay?”

“Of course,” Zuko says. It’s unspoken, but Katara knows there’s the possibility of staying in the Fire Nation permanently down the line. And even more unspoken--she’s only 21, after all--is the possibility of being Fire Lady.

“I’ll take your suggestion,” Katara says, “and much like your letters, I’ll give you a response in five to ten business days.”

He groans and she laughs, kisses him on the cheek.

“Yes,” she says. “I’ll stay.”

* * *

A little more than a decade after Zuko’s coronation, Team Avatar reunites in the Fire Nation for a wedding.

It’s an entire day of ceremonies that marry Water Tribe and Fire Nation tradition. Zuko and Katara kneel in front of the Southern Water Tribe, the Fire Nation, and the spirits to bind their souls in marriage. It feels like the world’s oldest love story (Tui and La, Oma and Shu, Zuko and Katara), and in a way, it is. The brilliant blue of her robes pair nicely with his scarlet red, and the world cheers when they raise their hands together.

The dinner party is the first time of day where Katara can talk to Zuko. She tells him how handsome he looks and how much she loves him. She murmurs these words quickly--in the only break with tradition that day, Katara demanded that they be seated with all their friends and not separately.

She does it so she can look around at the people she loves most. Toph, Sokka, Suki, Aang, Zuko --these are the people who bookend her life.

She’s home.

#zutara #zutara week 2020 #zutara fanfiction

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readerinsertfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Dear Penpal,

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Character: Shigaraki Tomura / Tenko Shimura

Prompt: Childhood friends to enemies

Part 1 | Part 2

Endeavour. Is. Scary!

Not how I wanted to start my letter to you, but he really does give me the shivers. Anyway, to start over:

Hello Tenko,

I hope you have been better than me.

My first week in Japan has actually gone past quite peacefully. Quite. Because Endeavour has gained the super special skill to terrify me with his mere presence. I think he disapproves of me, but next week we will have the summit in which the whole team will be introduced and there I shall prove myself.

Will you be there? I know that we are supposed to keep it a top secret, but will you? You never gave me your intended hero-name, so I can’t scan out your list, nor do I have a clue what your quirk is.

This is difficult. Will you know me? Will I even recognise you? You better have kept the bracelet I made you! I know, it must have long since fallen off, and everything, but you have kept it, right?

Otherwise, I have kept your present! The charm you sent me is still hanging onto my bag, I’m very proud to say that I have never lost it and I hope that you will come to recognise it, even if I won’t be able to recognise you.

Tenko, what happened? I tried visiting your old address, but no one seemed to know you anymore, or your family even. When did you move? When did you leave? Is this the reason why you never wrote me back?

Tenko, I miss you. I really do.

To be fair, life hadn’t passed quite so easily at all for you. While they gave you the time and space to settle in the new country and strange environment was a huge shift. The less than stellar welcome at your new workplace, the mysterious circumstances under which your friend had disappeared. They were all too strange to you, too much for you to process who had looked forward to being reunited with your penpal.

Fortunately there was still a bright star at the horizon. Though it had been the part you had looked forward to the least, the U.A. Academy had quickly risen to be one of your favourite workplaces as well as places to be. The fresh air, the zeal of the students, the constant appearances of famous heroes that went around so casually, it all felt so surreal to you.

“[Name], how has it been, teaching the students statistics?” All Might one day asked you, startling you pretty much witless at the approach of the huge bundle of muscles and whatnot. Though the two of you had been introduced formally upon your entry into the school you still hadn’t grown used to how large the hero actually was.

“You’re startling [Name], overzealous bulk of meat.” Aizawa popped up from behind the man, his eyes glaring as ever before passing the hero into the cafeteria for his lunch.

Yet another famous hero you couldn’t help but to stare after at.

“Ahaha, sorry for that, I will take a step back,” the hero guffawed, rubbing the back of his head as he took a step back. “It is just that after me you are the newest addition to the faculty, so I was curious how you are settling in.”

Deflating you let go of a sigh, a smile crossing your features, the man had only meant well, though his size was still a surprising sight to behold. Nudging towards a table you thus invited the man to sit with you for lunch, quietly inviting All Might to join you.

“It isn’t anything impressive like the hero course, but the students really are of a different level and type,” you started out generic, figuring that the hero wasn’t sitting here to hear a review over each student you had, or what your techniques were.

Nodding the male boasted another proud smile, seemingly growing even more in size (if that were to be possible) as he nodded in agreement. “They are all fine students to be proud of!” he started enthusiastically before deflating a little, concern crossing his eyes as he leaned forward, seeming almost demure as he whispered:

“Though, I was wondering about some particular students. You know, students with an amazing skill at statistics, maybe even an overzealous ability to analyse and with a tendency to go overboard with them?”

Giving the man a look you smiled at the very-specific description, chuckling a little before you nodded, pretending not to have noticed All Might’s obvious attempt at checking up on a particular individual.

“There is one student who is excelling in my class, though not surprisingly. He is a hard worker, though he seems rather average,” you started, noting how the glimmer in All Might’s eyes were brightening up as he nodded enthusiastically along. Amused you could almost see the student reflected in the hero’s eyes before you decided to tease him a little longer.

“He is a good guy, needs some work in his confidence, but he greatly reminds me of a childhood friend of mine,” you continued, a fond smile crossing your lips as an idea lit up within your mind.

All Might was a famous hero, everyone knew him, just like that his network was surely to be great as everyone wished to be associated with him. Gathering up your courage you sighed to yourself in nostalgia, mind wandering off into another daydream.

“That friend of mine wanted to be a hero as well. The best of the world!” you reminiscenced. “Though I haven’t heard of him in a long while, I don’t even know his hero name,” you threw out the bait.

Intrigued All Might crossed his arms, thinking deeply to himself before another broad smile crossed his features.

“What is the name of this friend of yours?” he offered, catching the trap as you smiled inwardly. “I know many heroes, maybe I can help, though I can’t of course tell you whether I truly know your hero by their civilian name for security reasons,” All Might quickly added, a condition you didn’t mind one bit.

“Really?” you veered up excitedly, clasping your hands together as if praying to a god. “I understand that you can’t really say anything, but I will really appreciate it if you could tell Tenko that I’m looking for him!”

“Tenko, huh?” All Might repeated after you, none of his features indicating that the name crossed him as familiar. Though, never one to give up you nodded vigorously.

“Tenko Shimura!” you beamed.

The look of horror that crossed All Might’s expression stilled you into silence, scaring you as much as the fear that seemed to gather within the deepset eyes of the usually so strong hero.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can help you, [Name],” the hero eventually admitted, his voice stern as his expression returned to its usual bravado. “Not because I don’t want to,” he added, though the way his fist clenched suggested something else.

“There really is no hero with that name.”

With that the bell rang, signalling the end of the break and forcing everyone to return to their respective classes.

You remained frozen for a few moments, your heart stuck in your stomach as you wondered what All Might’s reaction had meant.

If Tenko truly hadn’t gone on to become a hero there would be no reason for All Might to react like he did, right?

Feeling a shiver travel up your spine you hugged yourself, a terrible foreboding feeling brewing up from the pits of your stomach as you didn’t know what to think.

#bnha x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #mha shigaraki #bnha shigaraki #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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bunny-hoodlum · 4 years

Text

Kaginawa: A One-Shot

My Submission for NH2020 March "Bodyguard AU" Theme. Rating: General Audiences/K+

The sun is high, bearing down on her little head like an open oven. Even the long cold shadow of her father does little to shield her. The clicking buzz of cicadas is like a thousand fingers snapping in her little ears, and she swallows her worry like bitter overbrewed tea.

Both Natsu and Kou are flanked at her sides, boxing her like a prized jewel.

Throughout Konohagakure, a procession of clansmen, clan heads and their heirs are heading towards Hokage Tower, and the uncertainty that awaited her mounted atop her shoulders.

Hinata peered to her left, through the gap between civilians and buildings to find the Aburame Clan. She peered to her right to find the Akimichi Clan.

She doesn’t dare activate her Byakugan, but she is curious to see more.

It’s like they’re a row of ants marching towards their hill.

They file into the strategy hall, one by one.

Hinata eyes the long table as she and her father approach. There’s a spot for her beside him.

Kou helps her up onto the seat. Her feet dangle several inches from the floor and the table stops just under her chin.

She assesses the room, which reminds her of the dining hall and how the adults have their table and the children have their own. She then assesses the faces of her peers to see if their displeasure mirrors her own.

The Nara boy’s eyes are half-shut. The Akimichi boy is grimacing. The Inuzuka boy is as stiff as a board, his eyes wide and forcibly alert. Perhaps because of his mother, her own face pinched with an indiscernible snarl. The Aburame boy is as opaque and unreadable as the dark lenses he wears. The Yamanaka girl is poised with dignity, but she sees the way her chest rises and falls with the faintest of sighs. And lastly, The Uchiha boy, who seems to be making his own assessments; his large dark eyes are open with the utmost curiosity and regard.

Much like herself, two bodyguards are positioned behind their clan head and heir. Several representatives have taken positions against the walls, lining themselves up like a barricade of witnesses, and she wonders if this is going to be the entire day.

Another door from the far end of the room opens up, and the Yondaime strides in, taking his position at the north end of the table. A smaller pair of bright blue eyes appears beside him, his hair the color of morning sun, unlike his father’s, the color before supper time.

Hinata cannot contain the squirm of affection in her cheeks.

She knows him already.

Back when the snow was deep enough to swallow her ankles, in a clearing behind the Academy.

He had jumped in to fight off her bullies. Her bullies, who had harboed nothing but contempt for nobility.

His eyes darted in her direction, causing her lungs to freeze. His cheeks lifted with a smile, his eyes crescenting and her face warmed.

Hinata grasped the table’s edge, deliberating her next move.

The light of an idea bloomed, and she raised her right forefinger like a hook and bent her finger twice in his direction.

He blinked. His smile grew, baring teeth, and he waved at her.

But then the large hand of his father closed over his, and he instructed his son to sit still and keep his hands in his lap, to sit on them if he had to.

Her face burned as she looked away, shoulders hunching involuntarily. A quick tap against her spine reminded her to correct her posture. Her frown deepened as she straightened her back and lifted her head, and she wanted nothing more than to be amongst her mother’s flowers.

~~~

Negotiations zigzagged between the men and Kiba’s mother in a never-ending cycle, the monotony and tension alone built up a black hole above their heads, one that sucked the light from their eyes as discussions wore on.

When her daydreams lost their novelty, she broke out and let her gaze wander.

She glanced to the south end of the table to find Uchiha Sasuke staring intently ahead. Unblinkingly.

She followed his gaze over to the north end, stopping up on Naruto, who wasn’t blinking either.

She watched them for a minute, and she immediately understood.

Directly across from her, she stared at Kiba. A minute in and he narrowed a stare back at her, not in a challenge but in confusion.

Her mouth curved and she waited. His eyes lit up and he returned the grin.

Now this was a game they could play.

~~~

Sasuke walked up alongside her as they followed their fathers outside.

“You won, right?” He asked. With a tiny smile, she nodded.

Naturally, those with Dojutsu have a higher stamina for staring.

Hinata could feel her strength returning, like a shriveled flower unfurling and brightening anew.

“Hinataaaaa-chan!” A voice shouted from above.

She turned around to find Naruto grinning at her from the rails of the Academy roof. He raised up his hand with his forefinger hooked and he bent it twice.

Her breath rose up in her throat and lay lodged there, that same distinctive warmth returning to her face, the very warmth that she was beginning to suspect could only be inspired by him.

Hinata raised up her hand and repeated the same motion.

~~~

The following year, another summit was held.

Hyuuga Hinata had started her ninja training several months ago. She was doing well, but not nearly as well as her father would like. Ino was proving to be the best of their class, with Uchiha Sasuke falling close behind.

Even talent best charisma.

And Namikaze Naruto, he was proving to be the worst.

On paper, that is.

She smiled knowingly at the blond child at the Yondaime’s side.

The real Naruto was out there doing whatever he pleased.

~~~

School has concluded when she finds him alone on the swing just beyond the courtyard.

He’s encased in shadow, as if the sky were shyly hiding behind a blanket of overcast.

She works up the nerve to approach him. He speaks his mind rather freely.

“I don’t know what it is… I’m not as smart as dad…” He hangs his head and kicks at the ground.

She clenches her fist against her chest, as if courage were a slippery tadpole wriggling to escape.

“Naruto-kun is a natural, i,in his own way… I,I think that a paper d,does not do you justice.”

He hummed and craned his head this way and that, as if he couldn’t figure out the flavor sitting on his tongue.

“But all parents want to see is whatever the papers say,” He stopped kicking at the ground and stilled. And she never heard him sound so unsure before. “Iruka-sensei knows me better than he does. Iruka-sensei is the only one watching me, y'know? Iruka-sensei’s doing all the work. And all my dad wants is a paper.”

He’s strangling the rope, his mouth a tight frown against his teeth and she knows if she weren’t here, he might let loose a tear and a sniffle.

She understands exactly how he feels.

Her own father, for all the power that his Byakugan possesses, it seems that the reality of his daughter is forever tucked within his blindspot. The idea of her, however, is all that he desires to see. And if a paper can confirm she is developing properly, then his work is done.

Hinata half-steps closer towards, until she is nearly toe to toe, and she rests her fingertip atop his, slowly hooking hers around his, prying him gently from the poor, undeserving rope.

He sniffles before his lips stretch into a wet smirk, and he tightens his finger around hers.

~~~

The first time she ventures outside of the compound to help Naruto study, she finds herself blocked off by Kou’s shadow.

She meets his stare with a cold one of her own, and he crosses his arms across his chest, deflecting her defiance like an arrow off a shield.

“And just where are you heading off to, Hinata-sama?”

She straightens her back and raises her chin. In the back of her mind, a sense of pride echoes, for this is precisely the demeanor her father wishes to see in her.

“I am meeting with the Yondaime’s son.”

Kou shook his head. “An unsanctioned visit. No, you will return to your studies as directed for the day.”

“I can study anywhere, with anyone.”

“With permission, yes. However, you have not made your request known. Now you will return to your room.”

The second attempt involves passing her notes along on scraps of paper given to an army of ants – Shino’s ants – who proceed through town to deliver on the balcony outside Naruto’s bedroom.

For about a week, it works.

Until Shino apologizes to them both before their first lesson.

His father had ordered him to cease such unguarded operations of intel delivery.

Naruto and Hinata had shared bemused glances, both thinking how absurd the adults were being.

The third attempt was Naruto’s idea.

“Let’s use clones!” He shouted from the roof of the Academy, his fists raised high over his head.

The other heirs had joined in on their impromptu meeting, the tales of their rebellion against the adults catching their interest.

“Will that work?” Ino called from the back. “Clones can be sensed just as well as you can.”

Naruto and Hinata glanced at each other.

“What about after bedtime?” She said, her shyness nearly muting her voice. The idea of a rendevous after dark gave their intentions to study a different feeling. She wasn’t sure what kind of feeling, though. Something about the moon and the stars and the whole village fast asleep really pushed the secrecy towards something far more intimate.

Naruto cupped his elbow and gripped his chin. “Yeah, let’s try it. Why should anyone be concerned about a nine year old after dark?”

He ate his words when his clones appeared on his family’s doorstep, his collar in the grip of a Military Police officer on duty. A young Uchiha by the name of Shisui.

He was grounded for the remainder of the school year.

~~~

Naruto overhead his father muttering something in confidence to a young ANBU Captain with silver hair and a lazy expression.

“– He’s not taking this seriously. I need you to watch him. If he does anything–”

His mother was there too, in on the meeting, and her sympathetic gaze met his ashen one as he remained ducked in the shadow of the unlit hallway.

She’s sorry for him.

Sorry that he has to carry two burdens upon birth.

~~~

Hinata’s sitting on the swing when he emerges from the Academy, his face darkened with displeasure. It’s like this angry, red aura threatening to lick flesh from bone.

It’s interesting.

She smiles up at him, but it’s not a happy one.

“It’s funny… The history books say the Shodaime intended to preserve childhood for as long as possible. That is why he created the Academy. That is why we work together,” She eyed the rope in her right hand, thumbing the coarse fibers. “This doesn’t seem at all like what he had in mind.”

His dangerous aura seemed to pop from existence and his peerless blue eyes rose up to regard her.

“You’re right,” He said. “Once we’re genin, we stop being kids.”

Hinata felt something cold needle through her senses, and she activated her Byakugan. She mouthed to Naruto to keep talking, pretend she hadn’t noticed something was off around them.

There.

Someone was watching them.

An ANBU.

His bodyguard.

Hinata deactivated her Byakugan once she saw Kou approach a few feet from Academy premises.

And he stood there, expectantly, waiting for her to wrap it up.

They really weren’t allotted their own time, were they?

Hinata sighed as she stood. “Let’s not give up so easily, okay?” She then held the rope out towards him. He glanced at the it in question before accepting, the knowledge of her leaving sinking in heavily.

But the rope was warm. It was her warmth. And even though she was gone, it was like he was holding her hand.

His face pinched as he smiled, much to his chagrin, and he sat down on the swing, accepting the warmth she had left behind there, too.

She was right.

They were the inheritors of their parents’ legacy.

They could outsmart them any day. ~~~

BH: I want to thank @twurg for beta-ing! This turned out way different from the original draft, but I took your advice nonetheless! Thank you for looking it over for me again!

#naruhina2020 march #naruhina2020 #nh2020 #bodyguard au #naruhina fanfiction #naruhina fic #naruto

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katieurah · 4 years

Text

Screening Hearts (Part 5)

There aren’t any words to prep for this one. It hurt writing it. So, yeah...

...................

Lorcan’s chest heaved as he waited for Elide to answer the phone. The space between each ring felt like an eternity. He was an idiot. His mind had abandoned him. There was no way in his right mind he would have ever, ever, said that to her.

Ring

Of course he wanted her. She was so beautiful. She was smart. She had a wicked sense of humor. She was clever and witty. She was a mess. She was clumsy. She was firey. She was everything.

Ring

He’d pictured kissing her a million times. Asking her on a real date. Holding her hand. Watching movies together. Finally seeing the tattoo she never meant for him to know about. Tracing it with his tongue. Tasting her skin. Making her cry out in pleasure. Shit.

Ring

He clamped down those thoughts immediately. Those thoughts were what had gotten him in this mess. Of course he wanted to do every bit of that to her. And more. But did he have to say it? And like that? What a dick move. Never in his life had he spoken to a woman like that. To any one like that.

Ring

She wasn’t going to answer. One more ring. He knew it. That’s all he had left before her voicemail picked up. No way was he saying what he had to say over a message. Hell, he’d do it in person if they weren’t on lockdown.

Ring

That was it. He moved the phone away from his ear, unsure whether to hang up and call right back or wait. He started to swipe the screen.

“Hello?”

………

Elide stopped cleaning and sat down, phone in hand. He’d been talking to Rowan. Aelin said to hear him out. Of all people, Aelin told her to. She and Lorcan hated each other at first, despite being friends now. A had once told him if he ever looked at Elide wrong, she’d gouge his eyes out. And now they were Elspeth’s godparents and Aelin was saying to talk to him.

What a godsforsaken dramafest this shit is, she thought. She swiped one hand over her face and the thumb of her other hand over the phone. “Hello?”

“El- Elide? Hey, it’s, uh, it’s Lorcan.”

“I know.”

“Right, sorry. I just, well, we don’t phone call, so I was just… Shit. Ah, sorry. Man, I’m not doing this right…”

“Salvaterre, why are you calling me?” Elide decided to play it dumb. She’d never heard him stumble to say anything before and frankly, it amused her. Besides, he needed to grovel a bt.

“Rowan called me. Elide, I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I didn’t remember. He told me what happened after Ellie’s dedication. I didn’t have a clue about any of what I actually said. I knew I asked you out and you were crying and something about a tool jerking you around, but… I’m sorry.”

She hesitated. She had no clue what to say. She’d spent so much time avoiding him and the memory of that night. He’d let her down so badly. Lorcan Salvaterre, of all people. And it scared her. She didn’t remember at what point she’d given him that much power, that much of her mind and heart to have the authority to hurt her. It scared the shit out of her.

“Sorry for what exactly? You said Rowan told you. But you haven’t said what you’re sorry for.”

“Everything. All of it. I’m sorry that douche messed with you. I’m sorry I hurt you. El, I can’t remember you telling me you had more than a date or two with him, and I’m sorry for not paying more attention. And then, me? Coming in after that and saying that stuff? Rowan told me I’d had a double dose of benadryl with that scotch. You have to know I’d never have said anything like that to you normally. Hell, I shouldn’t say it doped up either. I wish I’d been knocked out by it totally. Anything’s better than this… And I’m sorry I said what I did. There’s no excuse. Not even that cocktail… El, I’m sorry.”

With that, the dam of emotions and thoughts she’d been holding back broke loose.

“No, you shouldn’t have, Lorcan. You shouldn’t say shit like that to any person ever. Drugged or not. And that’s what hurts the most. I’d never have believed it of you. I let myself believe you were better than that. I knew you screwed around with women in the past. I knew relationships weren’t your thing. But I still believed you to be better. I thought you were a good friend. I thought you had potential to be a good partner if you’d ever let anyone that close. But that’s my fault. So, no, I don’t have to know that you wouldn’t say any of that, because you did. And I’m not even hurt anymore that you didn’t realize I’d been dating that guy. It wasn’t long or much. I could have forgiven you for that, for not paying attention that closely. I just used it as the wall to hide that I was disappointed in you for being as low and crude as that guy who wouldn’t stick around because I wouldn’t jump into bed with him. Because I am disappointed. And hurt. Because I had felt that way about you and I was wrong. That’s what I’m having a hard time with.”

“El, I… I’m so… Shit, there aren’t even the right words yet invented for how sorry I am....” Lorcan trailed off. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.” And then she hung up.

…….

Lorcan stared at the phone in his hands. His thoughts were empty. He’d hurt her. Not just been offensive or a jackass, but really hurt her. It sent him into a dark part of his mind he didn’t know existed before.

Where was that whisky?

…….

Morning light poured through the windows, waking Elide. She groaned. She’d forgotten to close the curtains the night before. In fact, she forgot to do everything the night before. She’d gone straight to her bed and cried herself to sleep. Over seven months of emotions had poured out of her. Every thought from that night. Every quip and snipe they’d thrown at each other since then, blocking the pain and confusion. Every ounce of broken daydreaming.

Elide’s head hurt and her teeth felt fuzzy. She glanced at her phone for the time. No! She’d overslept and there were emails piling up. Rushing to wash her face, brush her teeth and hair, and throw on a decent sweater, she all but ran to her desk.

She logged on and sorted through the messages coming in faster than she could keep up. The travel ban lifted and lock down was over. She read through an email from her boss, telling the team to hold all progress and conference calls. They were needed back in the office tomorrow and they were to prepare for the partnership project. The summit was back on and the team needed to be ready by Thursday for the face-to-face meetings to begin.

Elide sat back in her chair, feeling hollow. She’d have to see him. In five days. They’d have to work together. They’d have to figure it all out.

She had no clue what to say or think. She ran back through the conversation the night before, turning it all over in her mind. And went very still.

He had never apologized for asking her out.

….. Lorcan knew to expect the flurry of emails the next day, the texts, the video chat with Rowan and the team. What he did not expect was the slight hangover weighing down his head. He only had two glasses. His original plan, to get wasted and sleep it off, was thrown out the window when he remembered the role alcohol played in this particular SNAFU. Instead, he’d gone straight to bed, never really sleeping. He’d gone over every detail of what he said. What she said. The tremor in her voice as she hung up. He didn’t realize he knew her enough to know she was close to crying. But he did. And it killed him

As Lorcan went through the motions of getting ready for the drive to Orynth, he couldn’t stop thinking of the things she said. She had believed him to be better and he let her down. And then, right as he was about to walk out the door to the cottage, he paused. One thought came crashing down on him.

She had believed he’d be a good partner. And then he screwed it up.

...................................................

Only one part left to go!

@nalgenewhore @hizqueen4life @the-dark-swan @whyyoumakemesadstahp

#and they were zoomates #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #elorcan #elide x lorcan #tog au #modern au

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headachebrain · 4 years

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The Shows that Raised Me

When Netflix US announced on July 29th that they were bringing Moesha, Sister, Sister, The Parkers, One on One, Half and Half, The Game and Girlfriends to the streaming platform over the next few months, I let out a gasp that made everyone in my office turn to look at me. I had tears in my eyes before I even watched the video that featured so many of the beloved actors from each show - older, a little grey, a little chubby happily announcing their shows would be streaming. Black Twitter lit up. Within minutes each show was trending, even ‘OKAY NETFLIX’ was trending, a stamp of approval from Black Twitter. Because finally. Finally the shows that raised all us older Black millennials were coming to streaming. Moesha, Sister, Sister, The Parkers, One on One, Half and Half, The Game and Girlfriends are from the UPN, the WB, golden age of Black TV. The late 90’s and early 2000’s was peak Black TV. We been had Black TV.

I was in middle school and high school at that time. I was a shy, sad kid who came straight home after school, did my homework and then went to our TV room, set up the VCR and settled in to watch my shows. I’d tape episodes then watch them over and over and over again. I’d stand up and act out scenes. I never thought a Black girl couldn’t lead a TV show. I truly believed that I could be an actress one day because girls that looked like me were doing it. Thanks to the UPN/WB era of Black sitcoms, I grew up seeing myself reflected in the media. When kids at school were mean or I felt lonely, I could pop in one of my VHS tapes and suddenly I wasn’t alone anymore. I was laughing. I was learning. I felt like I was part of something. They were my culture. They defined what being Black was to me. All I wanted was to go to an American university, pledge a Black sorority, have a fine ass Black boyfriend and live the dream. Now that I’ve grown up and none of that has happened, I am realizing how much those sitcoms impacted my life.

The sitcoms taught me how to formulate a joke, structure a story. One of the first TV shows I wrote myself in to was Moesha, rewriting an episode changing Moesha’s brother to a sister that was me. At like twelve years old I sat in front of the TV basically transcribing dialogue in to my little notebook, then turning that dialogue in to a short story. Acting out scenes on my feet taught me how to pause at the punch line in a joke, which words to emphasize, even how to pull faces. I remember being at my grandma’s house just reciting lines from Black sitcoms in front of my grandma and my aunt, cracking them up, pretty much doing a stand up set. I learned that I loved making people laugh. I learned what made me laugh. I’d take lines from the shows and use them in my everyday life, making friends at school laugh. Even now, as a woman in her mid 30’s, I still find myself quoting lines from Moesha, Sister, Sister, One on One and The Parkers, making co-workers chuckle without them knowing I’m quoting twenty year old Black sitcoms. The best part is that the jokes hold up. Of course, the late 90’s/early 2000’s were a different time, there are homophobic, fatphobic, transphobic and sexist jokes that don’t fly today, but the lines that cracked me up when I was a teenager still make me laugh.

Seeing young Black people on screen showed me that our stories were valuable. It wasn’t enough to get on my feet and act out my shows, I wanted to be in the shows and the only way to do that was write stories.

I wrote stories putting myself in to situations that I wished desperately would happen to me when I got older, imagining beautiful Black boys wanted to date me, that I had a wonderful, loving group of girlfriends and an overprotective but supportive daddy. I was a kid that would sit in class and daydream, make up elaborate stories and scenarios. I’d craft my stories based on the shows, to this day I think I craft my stories based on these sitcoms. They taught me so much about life, about dating. I don’t date but to this day I can talk to women my age about dating because of what I learned at a young age from watching the WB and UPN. I watched Breanna and Arnez go from friends to more than friends on One on One. I watched Moesha deal with an overprotective (and looking back, problematic) daddy and date all different types of boys. The episode where Moesha got on the pill because she thought she wanted to have sex with her boyfriend was monumental for me. They even dedicated an entire episode of Teen Summit to it. I was the kid in grade nine who told a boy I had a huge crush on that he should use protection if he was gonna sleep with one of the popular girls. The episode of The Parkers about Malcolm X and Martin Luther King Jr. taught my teenage Black Canadian ass so much about both of them, while cracking me up at the same time.

The major emotion I felt the day the Netflix news dropped (before I knew Netflix Canada wasn’t bringing the shows to our country, something I should have seen coming) was thankful. The WB/UPN merged in to the CW in 2006 and in the process they axed every Black show. And that was pretty much the end of Black sitcoms until recently. How lucky was I to grow up seeing Black girls that looked like me be cute, desired, be messy, make mistakes, get in to trouble, be loved, navigate adolescence and everything be wrapped up with a lesson and a laugh in 30 minutes? What a gift.

I can’t wait to sit and revisit these classic shows that were so critical to me growing up. It’s exciting to think of a new generation discovering them. Maybe they can impact a 12 year old Black girl in 2020 like they did for me in 1998.

#personal #essay #black tv #moesha #sister sister #the parkers #one on one #netflix #nostalgic #90's kid

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oh-positive · 3 years

Text

06.13.21🏔

#just my boots and i against the world #jasper national park #jasper #canada #alberta #solo hiker #hiking #daydreaming about my next summit #views

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iwhumpyou · 4 years

Text

The Cost (Part 5)

Masterlist. Wergild.

Taglist: @whumps-the-word, @swordkallya, @whumpy-daydreams.

Part 4.

~#~#~#~#~#~

“Peace,” Jayden said again, sitting across from Jace in his office. His tone was…disbelieving. Incredulous. Skeptical.

“I know,” Jace smiled wryly, “I had trouble believing it too.”

“How did it happen?” Jayden asked, raising his eyebrows. He was looking around Jace’s office – Jace had changed it significantly since his father had been clan leader. “And you said that Clarissa leads the elementalists now?”

“Her father died in a skirmish,” Jace said, his smile freezing on his face. He’d been invited to the funeral, as Clarissa’s friend, and had watched as her siblings stared, stony-faced, as the man’s ashes were lowered into the ground. There hadn’t been a tear in sight.

“Ah,” Jayden said.

“Clarissa always wanted peace,” Jace continued, “She called for a summit of the six great clans. One thing lead to another, so I went. Peace is difficult, but our people deserve a better future.”

“One thing led to another,” Jayden repeated, as though he was mulling the words over, “The broken curse. The spring. And you’re hosting elementalists, now?”

“Nerali is a friend,” Jace said easily, “The curse could only be broken by a willing elementalist.”

“And she was willing?” Jayden asked incredulously, “Jace, her wounds stretch up to her shoulder.”

“She almost killed Mirai,” Jace said and, choosing to sidestep the details of the entire series of events, “This was her wergild.”

“Ah,” Jayden said again, something clouding over his expression. He leaned back, like he was thinking through a realization.

“Well, I suppose one elementalist is fine,” Jayden cracked a smile, though his chuckle died at Jace’s pained expression. “There’s…more than one elementalist here?”

“Aidan,” Jace said through gritted teeth. “Clarissa’s brother.”

“The firestarter?” Jayden raised his eyebrows, “Jace, you agreed to host one of the most destructive elementalists in our home?”

“It’s complicated,” Jace waved off his concerns, because explaining it would mean explaining Nerali and why she’d given wergild in the first place and Jayden had fierce opinions on how family should treat each other – it’d been why he’d been quasi-exiled in the first place.

(Jace’s father hadn’t taken kindly to people disagreeing with his methods or questioning his decisions.)

“And his powers are suppressed,” Jace drew out the key around his neck to reassure Jayden, “He won’t be a problem.”

“And easily dealt with, should he decide to become one,” Jayden nodded, his gaze fixed on the key. Then he blinked, and his expression settled on Jace again. “Congratulations, cousin,” Jayden smiled, “I’m glad that you’ve achieved your dreams. And I’m sorry – about Clarissa, about –”

“The past is the past,” Jace said lightly, “It wasn’t your fault. And I’m glad you’re home.”

“For family,” Jayden smiled.

“For family,” Jace echoed, wondering why Jayden’s smile didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

~#~

The newcomers – the warriors of the clan who ranged beyond the forest, led by Jace’s cousin (the dissidents, Aidan knew exile when he saw it) – integrated back into the clan easily. It was clear that none of them had visited after Jace had become clan leader, which had to be at least three years.

Jace had taken control of his clan after a sudden power restructuring caused by the loss of his father and the entire council. Aidan remembered it well, because Father had decided to take the localized chaos as an opportunity to attack.

Clarissa had ascended to clan leader barely a month after Jace.

So it was Jace’s father that had decided to exile these people. How bad did they have to be that even a power-hungry megalomaniac thought they were too much?

(Aidan knew. Aidan recognized those cold, ice-blue eyes. Aidan knew full well.)

He made sure that Nerali was never alone with Jayden. His skin crawled at being so close to the other man (alone and unprotected and powerless) but he hid fear with sneering derision and biting comments. It served to keep the newcomers away from him – because Jace had clearly told them something – and Aidan struggled against the urge to grab Nerali and get the hell out of there.

Just a few more days, he told himself. Nerali’s burns were the last to heal, and he knew from painful experience that burns were the worst. A few more days, and she wouldn’t need the magic spring water anymore.

A few more days, and he could put clan walls and an inferno between him and the man that still haunted his nightmares.

Mirai gave him odd looks as he suddenly restarted stalking Nerali’s footsteps – looks that were more guilty than confused, as if he cared about their fledgling attraction when a monster was at his door. Felix had taken to scowling again. Jace had washed his hands of the whole affair – every time he saw Aidan, his face pinched as he made the deliberate decision to stop caring and headed in a different direction.

Aidan, in turn, never quite met Jayden’s gaze. The man looked puzzled whenever he was the target of Aidan’s glare, but thankfully hadn’t seemed to put together any of the pieces. Aidan needed it to last. Aidan needed to ignore Jayden until he got his powers back and cocooned himself in flames.

Lunch, therefore, was a trial and a half.

Jace had started holding massive communal meals to celebrate the return of his family and Nerali was obviously always at Mirai’s side. The problem was that by sitting next to Nerali, Aidan was across from Jayden.

Aidan sat, and glowered, and chewed on food that tasted like sand in his mouth, hyperaware of his sister next to him. He had already mapped the exits. He knew the key to his cuffs were around Jace’s neck.

If Jayden made one wrong move, they’d be out of here.

“Is there something on my face, firestarter?” Jayden asked when there was a lull in the conversation.

Aidan narrowed his eyes, “Aside from the obvious?”

“I mean, you’ve been staring at me since I got here,” Jayden shrugged, amusement shifting across his face. “If you have something to say, let’s hear it.”

Mirai rolled his eyes. Jace groaned softly. Nerali gave him a look that was clearly warning him to behave.

“Just wondering why you’re back,” Aidan said. The words were harmless, his tone was not.

Jayden’s eyes narrowed. The table fell silent, the quiet a tangible weight. Jace straightened in his seat, watching them both warily.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jayden asked, his tone light. The amusement was gone from his face.

“It means that Jace has been clan leader for three years. Why return only now?” Aidan asked. Only after the curse was broken. Only after peace was brokered.

(Only after Jace was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt?)

“Watch your tongue, firestarter,” Jayden said quietly, “You’re here as our guest. Don’t poke your nose into clan business.”

“Haven’t you heard?” Aidan took on a face of mock surprise, “We have a peace treaty now. Anything that threatens the stability of your clan is my business.”

“You expect me to believe that Clarissa’s violent little brother is here as a diplomat?” Jayden asked, incredulous, but Jace cut off Aidan’s retort.

“Enough,” he said coldly, glaring at Aidan, “Nothing is threatening the stability of our clan. Careful, firestarter, or I might start taking your words as a threat.” And then, to Jayden, “The elementalists are our guests, cousin. Be polite.”

Jayden narrowed his eyes. Aidan didn’t acknowledge Jace’s words. “I am being polite,” Jayden said finally, “I simply want to get to know our new allies better.”

Aidan snorted at that, turning his gaze back to the food he could barely taste.

“Have we met before?” Jayden asked, and Aidan stilled, the pit dropping out of his stomach. “You really don’t like me, but I don’t think you were old enough to be on the battlefield before I left.”

“You don’t need to take it personally,” Aidan gave him a flat smile, “I really don’t like your entire clan.”

“Are you sure we haven’t met?” Jayden mused, frowning as he stared at Aidan, “Something about your face seems…familiar, I just can’t quite remember where…”

“I try not to make a point of meeting assholes,” Aidan said.

Jace blinked at him. Mirai choked on her drink. Nerali hissed ‘Aidan!’ under her breath. Felix almost looked amused.

But Jayden just tilted his head to one side, still frowning.

~#~

Part 6.

#whumpfic #wergild #arc: the cost #argument #we're almost there

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jovialyouthmusic · 4 years

Text

Proposal

A Royal Romance AU Fanfic featuring Bastien Lykel

I’m so excited to reveal the fanart I commissioned from the talented @jadequarze for this two piece fic. It follows on from ‘Kiss from a Rose’ (link leads to the first of three chapters) and you might also like to read Changes, a drabble that links the two sequences together. Or you could just read this as a little bit of fluff.

Word Count 3221

A/N The story starts with a flashback to Liam’s social season. Going back to the present (after the social season and Anton and the Sons of the Earth are no longer on the scene) Sophia has told Bastien that she’s received a job offer from Edinburgh University, and he plans to leave the Guard and go with her.

Accompanying song is ‘I Only Have Eyes for You’ by Simon Garfunkel

Proposal

Bastien heard Sophia coming along the corridor to their suite at Ramsford. The Beaumont Bash was underway and he was hard put to it to take this time out – a stolen moment for his goddess. He melted back into the shadows as she appeared and entered their room, closing the door behind her. He pictured her catching sight of the garment bag hanging on the wardrobe door and reading the note he had written

‘To my goddess

Should you decide to go to the ball, you deserve to look the part.

Wear this for me, and I will see you in the crowd, though you always draw my eye wherever you are.’

He counted out a minute to allow her to open it and discover the contents and knocked at the door, holding the corsage in his hand. As Sophia answered, the dress, a scarlet sheath cut to hug the figure and flare out from the upper thighs, sparkling with sequins hung behind her. She pulled him in and threw her arms around him

‘Oh Bas, it’s perfect’ she breathed ‘How did you know?’ He gestured to himself

‘You keep forgetting, I know everything, including the garment that will draw everyone’s eyes and make you the talk of the ball’

‘Bas, I’m not a duchess or a lady or a princess – I can’t wear this…’

‘You are my goddess, and yes you can. No one will dare touch you with me as your protector, I stake my claim – if that’s agreeable to you’ Sophia stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

‘Of course it is, I’m honoured - and you know you’re mine too, anyone makes eyes at you and they’ll regret it.’ Her eyes flashed with passion, then she took a deep breath and dismissed it from her mind, smiling sweetly again ‘Have you come to help me put the dress on?’

‘Yes, I have a half hour break and there’s something very special I want to do’

‘In this dress?’ she said, opening her eyes in mock surprise.

‘Not that, my goddess’ he smiled ‘I won’t get a chance to dance with you, so I have the perfect song lined up. Put it on, and we can have our own private moment’ Sophia stripped, selecting a bra that would support her without showing, and carefully pulled the dress on. She stood in front of the mirror for Bastien to zip it up, his lips lingering near the nape of her neck, her scent dizzying him. She took the corsage and strapped it high up on her upper arm, checking in the mirror that all was correct. She swiftly applied a little make up and selected a pair of strappy silver shoes. Bastien set up a speaker and flipped though his phone, waiting patiently as she selected a diamante necklace and matching earrings.

Finally she turned to him and he bowed

‘Perfect timing my goddess. Would you do me the pleasure?’ he finally touched his phone and music started to fill the room. He had chosen ‘I only have eyes for you’, and Sophia smiled happily as he took her hand and waist and they started to sway.

‘My love must be a kind of blind love - I can’t see anyone but you’

He gazed at her, smiling, and she sighed, melting into him, swaying and drawing closer

‘Are the stars out tonight? I don’t know if it’s cloudy or bright ‘Cause I only have eyes for you, dear The moon may be high But I can’t see a thing in the sky 'Cause I only have eyes for you.’

‘Sophia, if I wasn’t working, I would spend the whole evening by your side. You are the most beautiful woman in the building and I want to show you off’ he said softly as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

‘I don’t know if we’re in a garden Or on a crowded avenue You are here, so am I Maybe millions of people go by But they all disappear from view And I only have eyes for you’

The music slowed and stopped, and they held each other for a little longer….

That was the moment, he realised – the moment he knew he wanted her to remain in his life, the moment he had a faint reckoning that he could allow himself a life outside his job – a partner, a wife – a family.

So he planned his proposal after their trip to Edinburgh on Valentines’ Day. He had wanted to propose then, but he was working and could not rely on having time allotted to such an important task. So now he mused, going over his options for the perfect opportunity.

------

Bastien gazed at Sophia over the dinner table. Music played in the background – a string quartet on a dais at the side of the restaurant. Rainbows of light danced across her face from the crystal chandelier overhead, and there was the muted sound of the conversation of the other diners around them. She sipped at the wine as the waiter cleared away the empty plates, then put her glass down as Bastien smiled fondly.

‘That was amazing’ she sighed, patting her stomach ‘I always wanted to try lobster thermidor – it’s a bit old fashioned but I’m glad I tried it.’

‘I hope you left room for dessert’ he said ‘They do an amazing dark chocolate and champagne torte with raspberry ganache’ She looked thoughtful

‘I’m not sure – but it sounds as if you’d like to try it, so let’s share’ She picked up her handbag ‘I’ll just go to the bathroom, you can order while I’m gone’

‘Of course, theá mou. Hurry back’ Bastien raised a finger to the waiter who hovered a little way away from the table.

‘We’ll have the special – the dark chocolate torte to share, please’ he said loudly, and as she walked away, added quietly ‘Tell chef which table it’s for – you know, the really special one’

‘Of course Sir – I’ll give the signal to the band too’

‘Yes, that would be wonderful’ Bastien smiled to himself, but felt the butterflies in his stomach too as he waited for Sophia to return. Before long she was sitting opposite him again, and the waiter sprang into action. The band stopped playing and waited for their cue to restart.

‘Sir, Madam’ he said, and Bastien indicated that the plate should go to Sophia.

‘Oh this looks amazing’ she said ‘Shall I be that person who photographs their food?’

‘If you like’ he smiled indulgently, ready to move from his seat when she discovered the ring in the first bite of the dessert….

No, wait – what if she didn’t find it straight away? What if she bit into it and chipped a tooth – or choked? What if the torte went to the wrong table? That would be a disastrous marriage proposal. Sitting at his desk, Bastien put a line through the first line of his notes

Dessert at La Choiserie

He tapped his teeth with his pen and thought again, daydreaming about the next possible scenario for his proposal

------

‘Bas, my feet are aching – are we nearly at the top?’ Sophia asked as they trudged up the rocky path toward the summit of the highest point of the ridge that overlooked the capital. They would stay at the lodge further down and he would persuade her to take a walk instead of staying inside all day.

‘Nearly there, Sophia. I promise you the view from the top is worth it. This range isn’t as high as the mountains in Lythikos, but you can see them from the top. It’s a lot warmer here and there’s no risk of an avalanche.’ He carried on climbing, glad of the walking poles he had brought. Sophia had just the one stick, and they were surprisingly well matched in stride and speed for most of the time.

At last they were at the top, breathless and elated from the climb.

‘Oh Bas, you were right’ she breathed ‘It’s beautiful’ He smiled, putting his rucksack down and feeling in his anorak pocket for the velvet box, dropping to one knee on the stony ground…

No, wait - what it if rained or was stormy? Was he sure he could still climb that hill with his injured thigh? What if he couldn’t persuade her to go for that walk? He crossed out that scenario too.

Summit of Duchy Ridge

------

His goddess looked radiant sitting in the hot tub at the lodge on the ridge. The crescent moon shone and the inky black sky twinkled with stars. He slipped into the water with her and she moved across to sit next to him as the water gently swirled and hugged his arm to her soft breasts.

‘Are you ready for the bubbles?’ she asked

‘If you are, theá mou’ She reached over to the control and before long the jets were emitting streams of bubble through the water. He positioned himself so that it massaged his thigh and Sophia laughed – a low melodious sound that always pleased him.

‘It’s like being in a champagne glass’ she said ‘only warm, of course.’

‘There’s a bottle chilling right now’ he said ‘we can have it after this cycle - I’ll get it’

‘Okay’ she sighed ‘I don’t want to get out of this – ever. I think this is my new favourite best place’

‘I’m happy wherever you are – my favourite place is next to you’

‘Bas, you are so romantic’ she sighed ‘what did I do to deserve you?’ They sat in companionable silence as the water swirled and bubbled. When it stopped, Bastien got out, looking over at his lover, who was lying back, her eyes half closed in bliss. He hoped to bring that expression to her face when they got out and went to the bedroom, he reminded himself – but first…

‘Here you are, theá mou’ He climbed into the tub and reached back for the glass of champagne, the ring at the bottom of her glass and waited for her to notice

Well, that’s not a bad idea – but there is the risk that she might not notice the ring and choke. Bastien sighed and this time put a question mark next to it

Hot tub champagne glass

------

‘Come on in Sophia – the water’s lovely!’ Bastien called as he waded out into the cool azure water

‘I’ve only just put sunscreen on!’ she called out from the shore.

‘We can swim out to the grotto, theá mou’ He saw her perk up, remembering the time they had swum out to the secret place and made love naked on the water smoothed rocky ledge there. She was wading in eagerly in a trice, and he smiled, turning away, making smooth long strokes through the clear water.

When they got to the submerged entrance to the cave they held hands and ducked under to clear the rocky arch and gain the cave within. As before, the blue grey stone sparkled with reflections from the ray of sun coming from a blowhole up in the roof. They floated in the water, and she turned to face him, bringing her arms around him for a kiss. They slowly sank under the surface until they had to let go and strike for the surface, gasping and laughing. Sophia swam to the rocky shelf, sinuous like a mermaid, and he followed. She sat on the edge looking down at him, and he trod water in front of her.

Playfully she spread her legs open a little and drew him toward her with her feet. That gave him the opportunity to reach into his swim shorts for the little pouch containing the ring…

No, wait – what if he dropped the ring and had to search for it on the deep rocky bottom? Maybe he should visit the cave the day before and hide the ring there? No – what if a freak wave washed it away? That wouldn’t do. He crossed it out

Portaviera grotto

-----

They strolled hand in hand through the grounds of Applewood Manor, as well known for its rose garden as for its apple orchard. Her led her around the well tended beds, surrounded by neatly clipped box hedges. He told her the name and origin of every bloom, from white through a delicate blush pink, to peach, to magenta, to blood red.

‘I know you prefer to see flowers growing rather than in a bouquet’ he smiled ‘So I thought you’d enjoy this.’ He reached a bush at the centre of one of the beds and showed her a scarlet rose, the velvet petals giving off a heady scent.

‘Oh this one is beautiful’ she breathed.

‘I’m pleased you like it, it’s a new cultivar’ She leaned close to inhale the perfume, her blonde hair swinging forward and contrasting with the petals.

‘It smells divine - what is it called?’ she asked. He felt for the box in his pocket.

‘The name is as beautiful as the bloom.’ he smiled as he dropped to one knee ‘It’s called Sophia’

No, there wasn’t enough time to arrange the growing of a new flower, he wanted to ask her soon, he decided. Again he struck his pen through the words

Applewood Rose Garden and thought again. He needed at least one more scenario – the perfect one…

------

They walked though yet another garden, this time at Ramsford. Maxwell was strangely absent and they made their way down to the aviary where the peacocks were housed.

‘What is it with Maxwell and peacocks?’ she asked, laughing as they stood by the pens. The birds eyed them curiously, looking to see if they had any tidbits.

‘I’m really not sure, despite knowing him for a large portion of his life’ Bastien replied ‘You know that the animal on their family crest is actually a squid?’

‘Oh, that’s why he wears the squid tie – and that odd suit of his’ She mused.

This time when he reached into his pocket it was for an apple, which the alpha peacock was particularly fond of. They came to his enclosure – he was kept apart from the others to preserve his plumage, as he was prone to fighting and although he was at the top of the pecking order, that didn’t stop younger males from trying to best him. Bastien was not fond of the creature, but he was determined he would play a part in his proposal, as he was a magnificent specimen. He was happy to see it wasn’t roaming the grounds.

‘This’ he said, waving the apple in the air enticingly for the creature ‘Is Betsy’. It stepped forward, its beady eye on the tempting fruit.

‘Oh’ said Sophia ‘But correct me if I’m wrong – Betsy is a peacock, not a peahen’ she indicated the long train of feathers trailing behind the bird. Bastien sighed heavily

‘Once again I have no idea why he named him Betsy. That young man has a very – unique – outlook on life’ Sophia frowned and looked closer at the bird

‘He’s got something tied around his neck – what is it?’

------

Bastien snapped back to reality. That blasted bird would NOT cooperate. He shuddered – pictures of the creature chasing him once he got out of his enclosure for him to retrieve the ring ran through his head. A vivid memory of the pain of Betsy pecking him somewhere very delicate made him sweat – and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t tolerate having the ring box tied around his neck – he wouldn’t be surprised if the damn bird found a way to open the box and either swallow or lose the ring.

No, that was his WORST idea yet. He sighed and got up to walk to the window and look out over the courtyard. He saw Lewis make his way over to the staff wing for the start of his shift, and he realised it was time to eat. He called one of the younger guards in.

‘Get cook to send some sandwiches in’ he said ‘and ask Lewis to come to my office.’ He thought for a moment ‘Tell cook to send enough for two’

It wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door, and Lewis put his head round the door

‘Sir’ he said

‘Come in Lewis, we have something to discuss’ Bastien motioned to him and Lewis sat on the other side of the desk. He steepled his fingers together ‘How are you getting on, my friend? Work wise, that is?’

‘Well, you tell me, sir’ he answered. ‘You’ve evaluated me, I take it’

‘Yes, of course – but do you feel you’ve performed well? Do you enjoy your work?’

‘I do feel a certain pride in my work sir, and I always strive for the excellence you’ve exhibited’

‘I’ve made mistakes, son’ Bastien pointed out ‘It wasn’t an easy job under Constantine, and things certainly didn’t get any better until we detained Severus. I hope that I’m passing over a tight ship now, but you should never let your guard down.’

‘Passing over, Sir?’ Lewis asked ‘Does this mean…?’

‘I’ll be handing in my notice very soon’ he said ‘I can’t tell you all of my plans as yet, but I’ll be moving put of the Palace completely.’

‘You’ll be sorely missed, Sir’ he replied

‘That’s as maybe’ he said. There was a knock at the door and one of the house staff entered with a covered tray and set it down on the desk, taking the cover off and leaving the room. There was a selection of sandwiches and salad. ‘Please, help yourself’ Bastien said, and the two men chose and began to eat.

‘So, there’s one thing I’d like to ask your advice on’ Bastien said

‘My advice?’ Lewis looked a little surprised

‘You’ve been married four years now, haven’t you?’ His junior nodded at the question. Bastien took a napkin and wiped his mouth

‘Can I ask how you proposed?’

‘Oh – I – well, it’s a funny story’ Lewis shifted in his chair

‘I’m eager to hear it’

‘I – well my wife proposed to me in a leap year’ Bastien raised his eyebrows

‘Did she, indeed.’ He said in surprise ‘Did that take you by surprise?’

‘It did Sir – I’d planned to ask her when we went on holiday – on the beach in the moonlight by a fire. But she beat me to it’ he shrugged ‘She uh – she dressed up - that is – it was very intimate Sir. You know – in the bedroom.’ He paused ‘I take it you plan to propose to Sophia, Sir?’

‘Very astute of you son – yes I am, but I can’t make up my mind about the details’

‘My advice would be to keep it simple, don’t overthink it and don’t leave it too long, Sir’

‘Wise words’ he smiled ‘Thankyou Lewis, I’ll keep you updated on when you’re to take over. I have to talk to the King yet, so don’t mention this to anyone please. As for the other matter – of course that’s also confidential.’

‘Of course Sir’ Lewis rose and left the room. Bastien folded up the piece of paper and got up to go and make an appointment to speak to King Liam.

#bastien lykel #trr bastien #sophia x bastien #OC x Bastien #trr au fanfic

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nakouwolf · 4 years

Text

The Alchemy of the Hearts, Part 12

Note: 12/13 part of the translation of the French fanfic L’Alchimie des Coeurs.

Parts of the story : 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13

We’re almost done with the translation, guys, woohoo!

Don’t be afraid to let me know if I can improve it in any way to make it feel like an english story as it’s not my mother tongue.

Summary : Cassandra found out she has a huge alchemy rate with Rapunzel and tried to avoid having to confess her feelings… so she just tries to find a good hide out until that damn Day of Hearts is done, but Rapunzel knows her too well !

A really big thank you to my love @red-yellow-blue-crayon ♥ for proof-reading everything! And thank you all for reading it!

————–

* ~ ☼ ~ *

The afternoon was coming to an end. Rapunzel was still busy with the craftsmen and artists’ demonstrations who were about to show what they were capable of for the celebration tomorrow, but Cassandra had finished all the tasks behoving her, just as she had planned. She’d be discrete this time : no horse, she would walk away. She would shadow in the woods to reach the Lost Lagoon. The comings and goings were recurrent at that hour of the afternoon, so she didn’t have any difficulty to blend into the crowd to leave the castle and disappear.

It took her a good hour of walking to reach the duo-of-oaks surrounded on both sides by berry shrubs, as described in the poem. By following the trees’ roots, she found the rock to climb to reach the path overgrown by the vegetation which already guided her more than once to that hidden place. When she arrived to the three junctions, she followed the left one, remembering the clues of the poem she had learned by heart since then. Climbing the second rock, which was proudly enthroning in the middle of the emerald grass, Cassandra arrived to the place she dreaded the most : the gorge crossed by the stream which still separated her from the lagoon. The memory of her first crossing was still vivid in her mind, but she has came back here so many times since then that she didn’t hesitate this time and jumped in the stream which was reaching her waist. She crossed it with ease. Arriving to the summit of the wall covered by the moss and surrounding the lagoon, Cassandra couldn’t help the admiring smile beaming on her features. That place, no matter how many times she saw it, was still marvelous. Always as gorgeous. Always as peaceful. It reminded her of so many memories, especially the first moments where she really bonded with Rapunzel, realizing all the qualities she held under her candid appearance of ingenuous princess.

Descending the wall to get closer to the lagoon, she pulled off her boots and entered the water. Her foot hit a set of stones and she bent over to pick it up, discovering one of the bracelets she and Rapunzel had finally given back to the lagoon. She better understood why her unconscious had chosen this place – not only because it was hidden, but because it was without a doubt bonding her to Rapunzel, which absolutely wasn’t helping her to move on by the way. Urgh, and here she was, romantic despite herself !

She let the bracelet fall back down in the water, dived into the lagoon and swam to let off some steam and let the cold water soothe her. She reached the altar behind the wall and sat next to it for quite some time, observing the greatness of the lagoon. Deep down, she wished Rapunzel was here. It was a selfish wish from her, but she had loved living this adventure with her, discovering this secret of Corona.

Going up on the bank, she walked along the lagoon to return to her starting point. She had learned a lot of things here, this place definitely had changed something inside of her. Lying down on the grass under the last rays of sunshine, she began to let her clothes dry, letting her mind wander between what she had lived with Rapunzel, what she had to do and what could be, dreaming of a whole different relationship with the princess. Her daydreaming slowly turned into a concrete dream. The sun gently warming her up, Cassandra ended up falling asleep, a smile on her lips, soothed to finally let her imagination run wild without risking any consequence.

She’s been awakened by something cold on her arm. The temperature had clearly dropped with the night which had risen in the meantime. Painfully opening her eyes, probably interrupted in the middle of a pleasant dream, she noticed a small greenish shape on her arm and strongly shook it, surprised, before realizing it was just …

-Pascal?!

Oh, oh. It wasn’t a good sign. Rapunzel probably wasn’t far. Letting herself fall back down on the grass, she looked up behind her to discover the princess who just bent over her. She smiled, embarrassed.

-A-ah, Rapunzel!

The princess laughed. She kneeled behind Cassandra, still leaning over her.

-You got lost a bit far from your chamber, don’t you think ?

-A bit of fresh air and greenery doesn’t hurt anyone !

Rapunzel chuckled, then looked at the lagoon in front of her. Dimly lit up by the moon, it was glimmering of a thousand lights, the fishes shining under its surface. The princess decided to taunt her lady-in-waiting a little:

-What a curious choice of destination, the day before the day of hearts… I didn’t know you were so romantic !

Blushing, Cassandra strongly sat up, protesting :

-Hey, it has nothing to do with that ! I just wanted to… retreat in a calm place. Those last days have been… rather intense.

She was more thinking about the amount of work she had had when she said that, but she had to admit they also had been intense emotionally. As happy as she could be to see Rapunzel here, showing how much the princess knew without difficulty where to find her when she wasn’t on her bedroom, she was also regretting that her hidden place had been discovered. Will Rapunzel let her in her refuge just long enough for the celebration to be over ? In silence, the princess nodded.

-It’s true there has been a lot to do lately, but things will go back to normal soon. And after all, you’ll just have to enjoy the festivities tomorrow. I’ve seen that you already had prepared everything.

-I won’t take part in the celebration tomorrow.

The determined tone of her voice sounded more cutting than she would have wanted to. Rapunzel frowned.

-Why that ?

-Raps, you perfectly know that I hate that celebration, those overflows of feelings. Those last days have been particularly tiring, I need some peace. That’s why I came here.

-Only for that ?

She knew there was something else, Cassandra could detect it on her eyes. Though she didn’t have the guts to confess to her. She promised herself she wouldn’t come between her relationship with Eugene. She willingly put herself aside for that. It was out-of-question that a single question compromise her resolutions. Sighing, she decided to go on an half-confession :

-All those hearts and silliness make me feel sick, as if one needed a specific day to love someone. I don’t need any celebration for that.

-You love someone ?

The question was so direct it destabilized her. Cassandra was confused for a few seconds, gauging the impact of that question and how to get out of it without lying. Rapunzel was staring at her with curiosity but she was lacking her usual excitement, as if she already knew the answer but was expecting that it wouldn’t be given to her. The lady-in-waiting sighed and looked away, to the lagoon.

-It’s possible that I’ve fallen in love, indeed, Raps. But I’m not ready to talk about it. I don’t know, I might have hoped that, one way or another, the lagoon would had shown me the answers.

It was difficult to admit it. Especially for her who preferred to keep things to herself. Her heart clenched at the idea to thereby admit out loud the fact that she was in love. It wasn’t just a short-lived crush, it wasn’t vague feelings. She was irremediably in love with the princess. However, she needed to override it for the well being of the person she loved. She felt the princess had understood, she had well seen what she had almost done during the dance, after all. Rapunzel laid a hand over Cassandra’s.

-I understand, she simply whispered.

Cassandra met her gaze and read a lot of compassion and tenderness into it. Rapunzel probably would have had a lot of things to say if Cassandra hadn’t make her understand that it wasn’t the moment. Cassandra tried to convince herself that it was better that things happened that way. Pulling away her hand, the princess stood up and walked towards the lagoon. Giving her friend a mischievous smile, she dived into the water, splashing her willingly. Cassandra pulled back, but it wasn’t enough to avoid the majority of the attack – she found herself soaked right away !

-Hey ! She protested.

Then, bursting out laughing, she joined the princess in the lagoon, attacking her back. They spent a long time splashing each other, catching each other under the water, playing in the lagoon in the middle of the bluish stones papering it. They explored some parts of it they hadn’t taken the time to visit, discovering some flagstones of another epoch, engraved at some spots. They didn’t have the Saporian dictionary and thus promised they would come back someday to know more about it, even though they had already discovered the main secret of that place. After a few hours romping about in the water, they finally resolved to get dry on the shore before the sun risen. The princess couldn’t go back home soaked and seventy feet long hair was rather long to dry !

Sitting side by side on the verge of the lagoon, they looked at it in silence. Some fireflies were dancing here and there above the water, diving from time to time on the surface, probably to drink. Rapunzel shivered, it wasn’t summer yet and her clothes just like her hair were soaked. There was nothing to start a fire so Cassandra resolved to wrap her arms around her to warm her up. She who came here to get away, had finally rarely been so close. Rapunzel thanked her with a smile, her eyes full of gratitude. Her eyes then turned back to the surface, suddenly more saddened.

-Cass, I’d like you to be there tomorrow.

The lady-in-waiting stiffened a bit to that request.

-Why that, Raps ? You’ll be able to enjoy the celebration with Eugene.

-It won’t be the same without you. I… I really would like to dance with you again.

Cassandra felt her heart fastened while a wave of warmth reached her cheeks. She might have been soaked, she wasn’t cold anymore for her part.

-I… I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Raps.

She wasn’t sure she could contain herself a second time. She didn’t want to ruin the celebration with an inappropriate gesture towards the princess who was already in couple with Eugene.

-The bandmaster has been amazed by your performance, Cass. According to him, no one has been able to transcribe that… alchemy.

She had hesitated to pronounce that last word and felt that Cassandra froze when hearing it. It took a few seconds to the lady-in-waiting to remember how to speak.

-Would my absence sadden you… ?

Rapunzel nodded. Cassandra gave up in front of the sadness in her eyes.

-If I join you after the celebration, would it comfort you ?

-It would be already better than not seeing you at all, yes. It’s a good compromise, I guess. Thanks, Cass.

She was hoping for more but she didn’t want to compel her friend. Cassandra looked down, blaming herself for that selfish choice, but it was for the good of the princess. Though she felt that Rapunzel really wished to share that dance with her again. She remained thoughtful for a moment, until the sun started to rise, warming them up with its first beams. Rapunzel then understood she would go back home alone this morning. Slowly getting away from the embrace of her friend, she stood up and took back Pascal on her shoulder.

-Don’t go back home too late, okay ? I doubt I’ll be the only one missing you at the kingdom today.

-Have fun, Rapunzel.

Cassandra let the princess go back home before the sun was high in the sky. Looking at her go, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge in her heart by willingly isolating herself while Rapunzel wanted to have her by her side during that day. The lagoon suddenly felt so empty, emphasizing her feeling of loneliness. But she had to hold on…

~ ☼ ~

#cassunzel #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #rta #tts #raiponce #rapunzel #cassandra #Disney #fanfic #nakouwolf

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malecsecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas, @leetje!

happy holidays leonie, have a wonderful time of love and celebration! i hope you enjoy your fic! x

Read on AO3

*****

wherever you are is the place i belong

Of all the things Magnus expected to be doing an hour before midnight on Christmas Eve, trekking through inches of dense Hungarian snow was not one that had crossed his mind. It was all that rat bastard Lorenzo Rey’s fault for antagonizing the notoriously reclusive and anal-retentive High Warlock of Budapest.

Gergo Bartos had grown perilously distrustful through the centuries and his spellwork reflected that—but it didn’t keep Lorenzo from asserting the possibility that he purposefully sabotaged the warding of the archives in the Spiral Labyrinth, leading to a security breach. Bartos was livid, and sent word to the Clave and the Warlock Council that he refused to ever again be brought to a conference, summit, or any such engagement where he had to share space with Rey.

Naturally, the solution was to send the High Warlock of Alicante and the Inquisitor to Budapest on Christmas Eve to try to smooth things over.

“I’m going to strangle that man the next time I see him,” Magnus grumbled to himself, carefully avoiding a slick glaze of black ice.

Alec’s fingers pressing into Magnus’ forearm flexed as he looked down at the mounds of wet snow below his boots. “Lorenzo? I’ll back you.”

Looking over at him, with delicate little snowflakes trapped on his eyelashes and the soft ends of his hair, Magnus felt that familiar lurching feeling in his chest, like for a second his heart stopped just to take him in. The silvery moonlight reflected off the snow and formed a backlighting that gave his angel the halo he deserved, resting on the crown of his head. The high points of his cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, as was the tip of his nose.

Maybe this turn of events wasn’t totally unfortunate.

“Are you too cold?” Magnus asked, sending a pulse of warmth to the surface of his skin and letting it bleed out to Alec.

Alec shivered at the sharp contrast in temperature, then leaned in close to press his face to Magnus’ cheek. “Ugh, that feels so good. I didn’t know it got this cold here. It’s not as bad as New York but still…”

“Your nose is ice!”

Pressing his face more enthusiastically against Magnus’ with a deep, throaty chuckle, Alec peppered kisses with cold lips against the round of his cheek. “When we get home, can we take a hot bath? Maybe add a bath bomb or two, a couple mugs of tea, some eucalyptus candles, and a Sam Cooke vinyl playing.”

“I love when you talk dirty to me,” Magnus teased, catching the tip of his nose against Alec’s in an aborted Inuit kiss. “That sounds like absolute heaven. Did you know there are some divine thermal springs here in Budapest? The Széchenyi Baths are open all year round you know. Maybe we’ll find the time to indulge.”

“You know patience isn’t a virtue of mine when it comes to you, Mr. Lightwood-Bane.” Alec nipped at Magnus’ earlobe with his teeth, a gentle sting of pleasure. A soft sigh punctuated the wistful declaration and preceded the next words out of his mouth. “How much further?”

“Not far.”

“And we can’t portal because…?”

“We can’t portal in because Gergo has perfected the enchantment that surrounds his property; it doesn’t allow portals in or out within a certain distance of his home. This is as close as I could get us without potentially risking life and limb. Believe me, getting spliced would be the least of our worries if we tried.”

As the woods grew denser, clearly capable of making a lesser person claustrophobic, the strength of Bartos’ magic signature grew. Magnus could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up and goosebumps spread across his skin.

“Do you feel that?” Alec asked, stopping suddenly in his tracks and pulling an arrow from his glamoured quiver and nocking it in his bow.

Holding out a hand to keep Alec from making a sudden move, Magnus’s magic began to probe their surroundings for a trigger, a thread lying in wait to be pulled. “Wait.”

Like a flash of lightning, a bolt of raw energy shot through the trees, and Magnus only just stopped it in its tracks before it reached them. “Látom, hogy az idő még ébersé tette Önt, Gergo,” he called out evenly, keeping his eyes on it.

“Bane? Te vagy az?” a voice responded from somewhere unidentifiable in the distance.

“Az inkvizitátor Lightwood-Bane-nél vagyok.” The concentrated energy Magnus was holding at bay suddenly dissipated, and he lowered his arm back to his side. “We’re here as representative authorities on behalf of the Warlock Council and the Clave.”

From the darkness of the vast woods, a man suddenly appeared from a glimmering portal of opalescent magic. His hair was a darker shade of blond, and his eyes were a deep brown that almost looked black from where he stood. His physique was mostly hidden under the long black robes he wore and the loose button up shirt, but what was clear was that he was very tall with softer features. “This is about that rohadék, Lorenzo. I made it clear that I will not be cooperating with him any longer. I did nothing to sabotage our people’s haven and source of community. I would hope that is something you would know about me without a shadow of a doubt, Magnus.”

Shifting away from Alec to move towards Gergo, Magnus nodded and held out one hand in a peaceful gesture. “I do. I believed you from the beginning. We didn’t come here to accuse you of anything.”

“Is that so?” Gergo looked at him, and then at Alec, with stern eyes and a set jaw. Some of the ice in his expression had thawed, however, and he looked less guarded than when they began. “To what do I owe the visit, then?”

“We can prove your innocence,” Alec stated simply, speaking up for the first time.

“Color me curious.” With a wave of his hand, a pale blue sheet of magic appeared and formed a barrier that started just behind him. Slowly, it began to peel away, allowing Gergo to step through. “A more comfortable venue seems best to continue this.”

Magnus put his hand on Alec’s lower back, steering him gently. He also used the opportunity to his advantage, pressing faint traces of protective magic onto Alec with fingers teasing just under the fabric of his coat, sweater, and t-shirt to brush tenderly across his skin.

They walked towards an old-style mansion that had just dropped its glamour—it looked like the sister establishment to the Sacelláry Mansion. Its exterior was as immaculate and pristine as the day it was built, though it almost seemed to be existing in a place where time didn’t wear down what it touched. There were large columns that barred the front, balconies off every window from the second floor up to the attic. It was painted a crisp ivory color with minimal accents of chestnut brown, still perfectly preserved. The inside was mostly cold, sterile marble in white or black, save for the doors which were large oak double panels. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, with numerous doors on either side, until Gergo stopped at one and opened in, gesturing for the two of them to go inside.

It was the apothecary, markedly different from Magnus’ own with its more chaotic atmosphere. Nearly every surface housed magical objects and items, numerous bookshelves stuffed full with tomes, journals, and volumes were pushed against the walls, and a massive cabinet of glass vials full of potions, tinctures, and salves of varying colors sat snugly in the space just inside the room beside the door. “I’m prepared to prove my innocence, no matter what effort it may require from me,” he stated bluntly, taking a thin stack of papers from the desk in the corner. “This is how I created the warding. Whoever was able to slip between the cracks would have to know even more than just how to find the back doors—they would need to understand the minutia of the mechanisms I applied.”

Magnus looked at the outstretched hand and its proffered notes written in hurried cursive. After a few moments of reading, it became clear that there were extensive adaptations in the spellwork that made it unique. Whoever had managed to hijack it would need some prior knowledge. But… “You put in a tripwire.”

“I did.”

“And?”

“I haven’t been allowed access to the Spiral Labyrinth since the breach. So I don’t know.” Gergo walked around the desk to be opposite them and opened one of the drawers. “If it was triggered, this would detect it.” A small, round stone that was milky-white and appeared to encase something living inside that swirled in ceaseless, shapeless movements. “It acts like a magnet of sorts, attracting the energy source it touched.”

Alec came up behind Magnus, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a test tube of a navy blue substance. “One of the best forensic pathologists in our Institutes managed to isolate the energy signatures that were found within the warding and then reduced it down into a concentrated form. This might be able to give us an answer.” He pulled off the stopper and held it out towards Gergo.

As soon as the stone got within a few centimeters of the substance, the swirling insides became frantic and turned a dark gray.

All three men looked up at one another.

“We’ll take this to the Summit tomorrow,” Magnus declared. “The sample Isabelle provided, and the stone.”

For a moment, Gergo just observed him with narrowed eyes.

If Alec weren’t with him, Magnus thinks, maybe he would be more inclined to have faith that he could be trusted with the responsibility. Things had changed when Magnus became Alicante’s high warlock—rumors had circled that maybe his alliance was shifting, maybe he had lost himself in the dizzy daydreams of his shadowhunter lover. He’d had to choose between his love and his people before, and he hoped never to face it again because it nearly tore him apart. But he was loyal to the people it was job, both formally and informally, to protect.

“Swear a blood oath,” Gergo finally said.

Without skipping a beat, Alec, still at Magnus’ side, pulled an adamas blade from his boot. “I’ll go first.” He glanced over at Magnus with an understanding expression that made it clear that he had gauged the situation correctly. He pressed the sharp point to his palm just hard enough to draw blood, and then clenched his hand into a fist so it dripped down onto the stone still writhing inside. “Et sanguis meus, ut accipiat fidem meam. Si fractum ita et ego.”

Magnus clenched his fist tight enough that his nails dug into his skin to break it. “Et sanguis meus, ut accipiat fidem meam. Si fractum ita et ego.” His blood fell slow in droplets, mingling with Alec’s in a way that made something in his chest go tight.

When they left, bloodied hands clasped together, Magnus felt Alec’s pulse against his in the midst of the wet warmth.

“That could have gone worse,” Alec pointed out, speaking quietly among the ambient silence of the woods.

Magnus chuckled wryly, looking over at him. “Politics are rarely ever a situation in which anyone wins.”

The soft crunching of snow beneath their boots with each step was abnormally prevalent with how quiet the city had become. The snow was still falling at a steady pace and accumulating on the ground, making a pristine and untouched layer of soft white.

“Well my love, since we won’t be getting much sleep tonight anyway, how about that bath you tantalized me with earlier?” Magnus suggested as he brought them to a stop.

Alec grinned at him like the sun rose and fell at his command, and Magnus had to look away to keep from being completely incapacitated by it. “That sounds perfect.”

Before the portal home could be summoned though, the clock tower that loomed above them began to toll midnight.

“Merry Christmas, Alexander,” Magnus murmured, putting his hands tenderly on either side of Alec’s face to bring him in for a kiss. It was soft and warm and tasted like snow.

“Merry Christmas, Magnus.”

#leetje #malecsanta19 #*fics19 #*gifts19

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jojoreadwhat · 4 years

Text

can i stay at home? i don’t want to go / honey & smoke - m.h. x OFC story

Lucy's POV.

I lied on my new mattress, staring at the freshly hung tapestry, draped with lights on the other side of the room. Waiting patiently for one of the girls to pull me along to this party that I was dreading.

I decided to get ahead of myself before I was fashionably late, rummaging through my closet, pulling out at cute little outfit. Simply a loose pullover sweater, some necklaces that danced around my neck. Hugging jeans that gave a little bit of curvature, and my docs. There was no way I was leaving without edge. Lacing them up before planting myself in front of my mirror.

Did I have to go? I just want to stay home.

I thought to myself, moving onto my hair as I separated it into a half do. Loose baby hairs hanging around my face, almost making it heart shaped.

A small town girl who was stuck in daydreams but scared for them to come true. So used to being the home body she knew for so long.

Lucy you're going. End of story. My mind commanded back, it was right.

I had to advantage of the whole idea. Take on adventures I never endured before, fulfill that crave of a new scream. Being stuck in my worry mind wasn't going to get me anywhere. It was time to introduce myself.

I smoothed the fabric down on the torso of my sweater, "Lucy! Are you ready?!" Liz had called from down the hall, startling me from my self-induced daze.

I did a double check at myself in the gold trimmed mirror before scanning my room for my hobo bag, and my phone.

"Be right there!" I replied, taking my over-abused copy of To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf from my night stand and stuffing it into the jam packed bag. Shutting off my light, and leaving the twinkle lights to dance in the dark.

What? Who knows if this party is a flop? At least I'm prepared to venture elsewhere...

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

The party was much more crowded than I had anticipated. But it was completely different than the few I could count on my hand that I had been to back home.

The flat was filled with booze smelling breath, interlaced with the odor of a musty skunk from the Mary Jane making its rounds. Hypnotic indie sounds of Pixies 'Hey' played faintly against the banter of the crowd.

They pulled me right into the action, with a little help from Liz and Abby introducing me to everyone. I swear if furniture could talk, I think they would've introduced me to them too. Talking for me like I was four, which I didn't have much of problem with because since I got here. My anxiety was preparing for take off at NASA.

They were all nice, very welcoming and so interested in what I was here for. Almost being like this new 'thing' for everyone.

Eventually though I was able to make friends with the sofa in the middle of the living room. Sipping rum and coke, observing like I always do. And nodding to whatever had played next.

But that didn't last long before two sucking faces were going at it next to me.

I found myself pondering away from the sofa. Steadying myself against a wall, observing at a higher angle of 5'3.

Laughs and loud talk still surfacing, I felt a little bit creepy as I sipped at my drink and scanned. I found myself eventually glued to the glowing screen of my phone. Jotting down things about the party for my journal. Switching apps between Tumblr, Facebook & Instagram. Reading the outpouring support from my friends and family that had gotten wind of my new journey.

In the middle of an emotional post from my brother, the tone of the room had changed. My head shot up to the unison roar that had taken over. Four new figures joining the tight space, all dressed in black from head to toe.

As much as I wanted to go back to the post, my eyes were still stuck in the direction of the new faces. Each one of them shading something intriguingly different from one another.

One was a tall, slightly lanky with an upper broad build. His hair covered under a cap, flipped back to front. A white tee, complimenting his black jeans and was the only one with a colored jacket. Almost like honey mustard. Flashing a very friendly grin as he was pulled into a hug by one of the party goers.

Two were slightly bearded men, one muscular than the other. One of them seemed to be very shy, barely making contact with anyone who had made an effort. The other a complete opposite or at least he showed off about. Wrapping his arm around a friend near, incredibly loud with his banter and talk.

All three being easy to paint pictures of as they expressed themselves immediately after walking through that front door.

But the fourth one... Not so much.

He was something else, his hair almost like dark chocolate, loosely tied up into one of those 'trendy' man buns with a black turtleneck that wrapped tightly like a non-threatening noose that was complimented by a jean jacket. Over a thin but slendered out build. Toned in all the right places. My eyes scanning down to his tight black pants with a hole torn at the knee and some vans. Topping it all off with these tiny rimmed grandpa glasses that made me gush.

He definitely caught your eye from the rest of the posse he had come in with. And everyone noticed it too, practically throwing themselves at him.All pretty, upper crest gals. He didn't seem to mind... He seemed used to it.

I couldn't pry my eyes away. Tracing him like he was etched braille on a sign, but still unable to figure out who he was.

I watched as his lavished lips curled from the attention he was receiving.

Oh my god. I thought to myself.

My eyes had widened, being caught in crossfire when his dark ones collided with mine. Timidly, I trailed down to my feet. Trying to play cool that, maybe just maybe he was looking next to me at the red head.

Nope, he caught me. I answered myself as I met his gaze again. I bit my lip, engulfing myself into my drink as I mentally tried washing out the embarrassment.

When I didn't feel his glare against me anymore, I scanned the room once more. Thinking of a way to escape and breath. Finally my eyes spotting the french doors that led to the back yard.

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

I made my way through the crowd, swaying along to the song everyone was dancing to. I opened the door, to the lightly lit backyard that surround an in ground pool. The lights in the pool reflecting off the blue water. I sighed to myself, not a person in sight. Just me, the moon and silence.

I walked around a bit, placing my bag down on a chair. The autumn breezing catching the hem of my sweater. Before I settled, sitting above the water on the diving board. My boots had barely touched the water as it danced under the moon. Turning the page where I left off, retreating to my back up plan.

"For now she need not think of anybody. She could be herself, by herself. And that was what now she often felt the need of - to think; well not even to think. To be silent; to be alone. All the being and the doing, expansive, glittering, vocal, evaporated; and one shrunk, with a sense of solemnity, to being oneself, a wedge-shaped core of darkness, something invisible to others... and this self having shed its attachments was free for the strangest adventures...."

A summit of the most true, sincere way into my homebody heart. Solitude.

Engulfed in the lines that I had read over and over many times before, feeling new everytime I needed reminding.

But the solitude and silence I was searching for out here had been misplaced. I didn't realize I wasn't alone anymore..

"Not much for parties?" The unfamiliar voice laced with a thick accent greeted, startling me from the trance I was in.

I turned to follow the voice, and I couldn't believe it.

It was him.

The pool lights reflecting off him, leaving him in a glow.

Before I could answer, I had lost my balance on board and fell into pool. The arms that had verbally pushed me in were outreached. Pulling me onto the ledge. Gasping and trying to regain my breath that was ambushed by the rush of cold hitting my skin.

He helped me to my feet, walking me to one of the chairs that had aligned the pool. He walked away for a second, scanning the yard until he had found what he was looking for. Coming back with two towels and handling me one as he placed the other over my shoulders.

"You're a bit clumsy too." He smirked, taking a seat on the chair next to me.

"You could say that." I replied, not running off my tongue so melodically like it did his.

He was staring a bit, watching as I ran one of the towels across my face.

"You're the American girl... Cindy?" He hesitantly began, I smirked at what I thought was so... mysterious. Was so scared of guessing my name wrong.

"It's Lucy." I corrected, meeting his chestnut eyes. So much more vibrant than I had seen them before.

He smiled, relieved that I didn't hit him or something. "I like that better... I'm Matty." He replied, placing his hand out to shake. His skin so soft to touch.

We were sitting in silence for a moment, I was trying to regain my thoughts after the plunge I took. He was looking at me, then back at the pool. Squinting his eyes at it before rising from his seat. My eyes followed as he bent down to grab something from the water. My book.

"Virginia Woolf... You're into classics?" He asked, walking back to where he once rose from.

I nodded, "They're my favorite..." And it was the truth. I enjoyed old proper grammar.

He smiled, handing it over to me with an apologetic look on his face. I smiled at him, reassuring that I wasn't mad. "It's seen it's better days."

"So, what brings you to London?" He began, I chuckled looking back at pool. "Didn't the whole party tell you my life story?" I remarked. Since the girls just blabbed everything but my social number.

He nodded, "But I want to hear it from you.."

His voice hitting me like wild winds during a hurricane. I gulped, finding myself intimidated and unsure on how to make myself appealing.

"I write." I replied, different visions of those two words falling from my mouth, floating in my head. And I ended up there.

But to my dismay, he didn't seem mind.

Books became a big deal, but it didn't stop there. Questions pouring from his mouth, I found myself watching it as each word fell. His lips moving around them in such perfect sync.

I was watching those words shrivel to shreds when Liz had come into view. Signaling that we were heading out soon. I retorted that I'd be there in a second, placing my eyes back onto Matty's.

He was staring a bit intently now, kind of making me nervous. "Is everything alright?" I asked, was there something in my teeth?

He nodded, "Your eyes. They're like crystals."

I felt my cheeks overflowing with shades of red, but before I could thank him. Liz was calling me again.

"I've gotta go." I insisted, rising from the metal chair. "It was really nice talking to you."

Flinging my bag over my shoulder, and turning on my heel.

"I'll see you around... Blue." He remarked after me, awaiting impatiently on our next encounter.

#the 1975 fanfiction #matty healy imagines #slutforbritdick #wattpadarchives

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a-ratt · 5 years

Text

Excelsior!

Day 2: Pre-Origins

Marinette March 2019

Paris Expo Porte de Versailles was the largest convention center in entire city. It’d hosted all kinds of huge events, ranging from summit meetings to fashion shows. For today, however, it was home to the biggest event in the entire world: Comic Con.

“Marinette!”

She jumped and nearly ran her cart of pastries into a wall. With a quick swerve, she veered it away, but nearly into her papa’s cake-topped cart. She squeaked and swerved again, this time swinging around in a wide arc before regaining her bearing of directions.

Both her parents sighed and laughed.

“You need to stop daydreaming, mon cheri,” her maman said, carrying a stack of boxes filled with goods from their patisserie.

Flushing red, she bowed her head and groaned. “Yes, maman.”

About a month ago, the convention staff had started searching for places that could cater for them. Her parents, ever the community service workers, agreed to bring their entire patisserie-worth of baked goods, confections, and pastry-foods with them. So, here they were, hauling carts and boxes down a service hall to the staff’s break room.

“Oh, Tom and Sabine’s Boulangerie Patisserie?” a man guarding the break room entrance asked, pointed a pen at them.

“That’s us,” her papa answered.

“Oh, perfect! You’re right on time!” He opened the door for them. “We’ve already got tables set up for you, but if you need anymore space, just come talk to me.”

They nodded and immediately started setting up. Trays of macarons, croissants, bonbons, and other goods were laid out along the table. A chocolate fountain was set up beside a basket of strawberries. Whatever excess they had was left out in the hall on the carts.

By the time they were finished, people were already lining up. She greeted them all with a bright smile and directed them to everything presented. Sometimes someone wanted a specific food or to know if something had a certain allergen. She knew everything by heart, so it wasn't hard to give answers.

Somewhere between almost knocking over the chocolate fountain and the second wave of staff showing up, they started running low on macarons.

“Marinette,” her maman called, “could you go grab some more macarons from outside?”

“Okay!” she answered and strode to the exit.

Walking back into the service hall, she grabbed a box from the cart. However, before she turned back around, she spied an elderly man wandering around.

He was rubbing his chin and glancing down either sides of the hall. There was a map next to him that he looked at every now and then, but it didn't seem like he was making any sense of it.

Something in her tugged and she looked back at the break room.

With a sigh, she strode over to the elderly man. “Uh, excuse me, monsieur. Do you need any help?”

He turned to look at her, a pair of sunglasses on his nose. “Oh, um, bonjour, young lady,” he greeted with a thick American accent. “Do you speak English?”

Thankfully, she did. At least, a little. “Yes, monsieur.”

His face lit up and he clapped his hands, giving a huzzah. “Oh, wonderful! Say, could you help me out?” He reached over and tapped the map. “I need to be in Auditorium 4, but I can’t make heads or tails of this map.”

She smiled fondly at his jolly tone and nodded. “Of course.”

So, turning to the map, she scanned the layout of the building. After finding the ‘you are here’ marker, she managed to track down his destination, though, it was halfway across the convention center. That didn't even include the amount of twists and turns along the way.

“Uh, well, I found where you’re going, monsieur.” She poked a finger on Auditorium 4. “But… uh….”

“Yes?” he asked curiously.

She started sweating and glanced between the back room door and the elderly man.

“Um… Well… I… am going to take you there!”

“Really?” He gave another laugh and patted her on the shoulder. “Oh, why thank you, miss.”

“Heh, yeah,” she said, shoulders slumping. “You're welcome.”

“Well, there's no time to waste! Excelsior!”

She made sure not to outpace him, keeping at the same speed he was comfortable with. They navigated gray halls lit by fluorescent lights, sometimes running into staff members who were looking for more chairs or tables to bring out. Most of them didn’t pay any mind to the elderly American man and the 12-year-old girl leading him, but a few did give them some looks.

Eventually, they made it to the service hallway behind Auditorium 4.

“Alright, we're here,” she announced, macaron box nearly crushed under one arm.

“Oh, why thank you, miss,” he said, patting her on the back. “You know, you’re a real superhero.”

She blushed. “Merci, monsieur, but I’m just a normal girl.”

“Just a normal girl? Ha!” He guffawed and put a hand over his chest, but then coughed before pointing a finger at her. “That person who helps others simply because it should or must be done, and because it is the right thing to do, is indeed without a doubt, a real superhero.”

She tilted her head and processed his words, but before she could speak, a young, American man came running over. “Mister Lee!"

“Huh?” the M. Lee turned around. “Oh, Dave! It’s so good to see you!”

“Sir, where have you been? You were supposed to be on stage five minutes ago.”

“I just got a little lost on my way back from the bathroom, that’s all,” he said with a dismissing wave, “but this amazing young lady helped me find my way back.” He patted her back again and she smiled brightly.

The American man, Dave, gave a look before awkwardly stammering, “Oh, uh, thank you, miss.”

“De rien,” she chirped.

Dave checked his watch and glanced over his shoulder. “Alright, we should get you on stage, Mr. Lee.”

M. Lee rolled his eyes and waved at her before stepping away. Then, he scolded his assistant, “Oh, stop it with the ‘mister’. It makes me feel old. Just call me Stan.”

She gave a tilt of her head before making her way back to the break room. Hopefully, her parents would cut her some slack for doing some superhero heroics.

#miraculous ladybug #marinettelove #marinettemarch #marinette dupain cheng #stan lee #marvel #marinette march #day 2: pre origins

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