#Rowan Fragrance

[boys-fashion-123]

MTJ Rowan Perfume

MTJ Rowan Perfume

MTJ ROWAN Perfume is a testament to the art of fragrance. With its remarkable blend of top, heart, and base notes, it offers a symphony of scents that captivate and endure. It’s not just a perfume; it’s an olfactory journey that encapsulates the beauty of nature and the allure of timeless fragrances. Enhance your everyday routine with the enigmatic MTJ ROWAN Perfume.

Enduring Elegance

MTJ ROWAN Perfume is a scent that masterfully balances freshness and warmth. The delightful top notes give you an energetic start, the heart notes keep you captivated, and the base notes leave a soothing and memorable trail. This fragrance is truly ageless, a bewitching choice for those who appreciate a touch of nature in their scent.

Burst of Bergamot

At the very first whiff, MTJ ROWAN Perfume makes a grand entrance. The top notes are a captivating blend of Bergamot and Mandarin Orange, a duo that conjures up an immediate sense of tang and sprightliness. This opening act is like the first rays of the morning sun, awakening your senses with a burst of freshness and vitality.

The Heart

As the scent begins to unfurl, it reveals its heart notes – Green Tea and Black Currant. These notes come together in a harmonious and invigorating dance. The Green Tea lends a touch of natural serenity, while the Black Currant adds a delightful twist of fruitiness. The combination is nothing short of enchanting, creating a captivating aura that lingers in the air.

Grand Finale

Gradually, MTJ ROWAN Perfume descends into its base notes, providing a soothing and earthy foundation. Musk, Petitgrain, Sandalwood, and Galbanum are the key players in this olfactory symphony. Musk offers a sense of warmth and sensuality, Petitgrain adds a hint of bitterness, Sandalwood contributes its woody richness, and Galbanum provides a touch of herbal depth. Together, they create a captivating crescendo of scents that leave a lasting impression.

Application Tips

To make the most of this enchanting fragrance, consider the following application tips:

Pulse Points:

Apply the perfume to your pulse points, such as behind your ears, on your wrists, and on the neck. These areas emit heat, which helps to diffuse the fragrance and make it last longer.

Layering:

For a more pronounced and long-lasting scent, you can consider layering. Use matching body lotion or shower gel from the same fragrance line. This will create a multi-layered effect and enhance the overall experience.

[smoooothoperator]

Die With A Smile

02: Believer

Bucky Barnes x mutant!OC (Astrid Rowan)

HYDRA victims, found family, strangers to lovers, emotional scars, first love

Masterlist

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a/n: How is everyone going? Right now I'm with mixed feelings. I am writing this story just because I really love this character and I have been planning this story for a while, but I feel that the feedback is so small. Still, I won't stop writing, because right now this story keeps many thoughts away from what is happening right now in my country.

🇪🇸Si eres español e incluso de Valencia y me estas leyendo, de verdad espero que estés bien. Desde Galicia mandamos muchos ánimos y estamos ayudando todo lo que podemos.

Please, help Valencia.

I ran my fingers over the fabric of the dress, feeling the material between my fingertips. It was red with subtle detailed designs knitted into the fabric. The cloth felt strange against my skin, so different from the tight dark clothing I was used to. Wearing something this bright felt like I was stepping into another identity, one far away from HYDRA’s shadows.

My gaze moved to the lavender flower on the bedside table. The scent of it had filled the room all night, lingering in the air a gentle reminder that I was far from Siberia, far from the quarters where I had been kept locked all my life. I picked it up and inhaled the calming fragrance, surprised at the way it eased the tension in my shoulders, softened the lingering edges of fear. 

I slipped into the dress, adjusting the fabric down over my body. As I fixed the dress over my shoulders, I caught sight of myself in the mirror across the room. The reflection stared back, a stranger in red with tired eyes and unfamiliar traces of peace on her face. This dress felt almost like an armor, and I found myself straightening my back and pulling back my shoulders, feeling both exposed and, oddly, protected.

There were three soft knocks at the door, a quiet and respectful sound. But even if the door didn’t open, I froze, feeling how my instincts still acted for survival.

“Astrid, are you ready?” Shuri. That made me calm down, only a little bit.

I took a deep breath while I looked at the mirror one last time and moved away from it to open the door. Shuri greeted me with a smile, her eyes bright with curiosity and something like approval. She looked me up and down, nodding as if I did something right simply by choosing to wear that red dress.

“I knew red would look good on you” she smiled. “Come on, we’re a little late. You’re about to meet some pretty important people: my brother, my mother… and a friend”

“A friend?” I frowned, feeling the anxiety grow in my blood.

“Just come” she smiled, placing her hand on my shoulder and guiding me.

I followed her through the hallway, each step feeling like a reminder that I was free, walking in a place with open doors and windows, with sunlight filtering through in bright golden beams. The cool stone beneath my feet grounded me as I passed walls adorned with patterns and art I can't understand, glimpses of technology so neat and advanced that felt like a dream.

The hallway opened up into a large, open room with high ceilings and walls that let the light of the outside bright every corner of it. I was half lost in the view of the city outside the windows when I caught sight of them, the three figures standing near the far end of the room.

A man with a powerful, steady presence, dressed in black fancy clothes, was looking at me with quiet authority. Beside him, a woman stood with her head held high, her gaze deep and confident, and at the same time she looked calm, I could feel her intensity even from across the room. And then, a third figure, a man whose face I didn’t recognize. He was blond, with a well built body, eyes that held a quiet vigilance and, maybe, a hint of concern as he looked my way.

“Who’s that?” I whispered to Shuri, my attention shifting to the blond man.

“That’s… complicated” she replied, a half smile playing on her lips. “But you don’t have to worry. I wouldn’t bring you here if you weren’t safe”

I nodded, though uncertainty pressed against my thoughts, a tension rising as I wondered what he, and any of them, could possibly want with me.

“Astrid Rowan” the man dressed in purple said, his voice cutting into my thoughts, making me feel strange hearing that name and feeling how my body reacted positively to it. His words are firm but welcoming. “Thank you for meeting with us. I’m T’Challa. This is my mother, and he is Steve Rogers” 

His eyes met mine and he extended his hand in greeting, a gesture so genuine I almost forgot to move. I reached forward, feeling a strange shift within me. I took his hand, curious with this gesture, feeling somehow foreign to this. And the moment he firmly squeezed my hand, moving it up and down, I followed the movement with an unfamiliar feeling.

“Thank you” I managed to say, my voice firm though the words felt strange in my mouth.

T'Challa gave a small nod, signaling toward a set of seats arranged around a low table.

“Please, make yourself comfortable” he said, his tone respectful.

I hesitated, watching them take their places. Every instinct urged me to remain standing, ready to escape if needed. But the woman’s gaze softened, her eyes quietly encouraging, and something in the room felt… safe. Safer than anything I knew, which wasn’t much.

I sat down slowly, smoothing the dress over my knees, the red fabric vivid against the white of the chair. My fingers clenched the hem, grounding myself as if I could anchor myself in this unfamiliar place. Shuri slipped into the seat beside me, an unreadable but encouraging expression on her face.

“Astrid, I understand this must feel strange, even overwhelming. You’ve come a long way to be here, and we don’t intend to rush you. But there are things we hope to understand about you, your experiences… and your gifts.” T’Challa’s voice was calm and steady, and somehow the way he talked to me made me feel calm and pay attention. “You were with HYDRA. We know of their… methods, and the ways they manipulate those they capture. Anything you can share may help us uncover what they did”

I shifted in my seat, glancing at Shuri, whose face gave away nothing. Then my gaze moved to the man she introduced as her friend. His eyes held mine with a gentleness that made me uneasy, a caution that set me on edge. I wasn’t used to being studied without malice behind it.

“My gifts?” I repeated, my voice barely a murmur. 

The word felt wrong, like it didn’t belong to me. I didn’t know what they were beyond uncertain flashes, instincts that had somehow kept me alive. I wasn’t even sure what my “gifts” truly were, or if they were mine at all.

“Yes” the queen spoke, her voice calm and assured. “The abilities you possess. Wakanda is familiar with powers beyond the ordinary, as well as everything that comes with them. We hope you might feel open to sharing, whenever you feel ready.”

I clenched my hands together, keeping my gaze on my fingers. What was I supposed to tell them? That I was a puzzle with pieces missing or deformed, with only fragments of half formed memories? I couldn’t even tell them what I was or what HYDRA had tried to make me become.

“Astrid, I know you don’t know me, but I’ve seen HYDRA’s work before” Steve Roger’s voice cut in, soft. He paused, a flicker of something dark in his eyes. “Whatever you’re able to tell us, we’re here to listen.”

I forced myself to meet his eyes, feeling something unexpectedly familiar sparking there, like he knew something of what I felt, though I was certain I had never seen him before. Still, there was an openness in his expression, something that made my defenses come down, just slightly.

 “I… I don’t remember much” I said, taking a deep breath and glancing down again. The words tasted foreign. “HYDRA… they erased most of it. I remember pain, machines, and voices giving commands I couldn’t ignore.” I hesitated, unwilling to go further, the memories pressing too close, too jagged. “I escaped,” I managed finally, my voice almost a whisper “but I don’t know how or why I ended up here.”

T'Challa paid attention to my words, his gaze serious and respectful. He exchanged a glance with his sister, as if some silent understanding passed between them.

“What I can tell you,” Shuri said, her voice careful while she placed her hand on my shoulder. “is that they experimented on you in ways that affected you… deeply. From the scans I ran, your abilities… they may have been manipulated or… amplified by their experiments.” She paused, her eyes changed now to a determined gaze. “But the control they had over your powers are no longer there . You might even be able to reclaim them as your own”

I tensed, feeling the weight of her words. Control? Did she think I wanted this? Or that I had a choice?

 “Astrid, HYDRA took a lot from us… but they don’t have the right to take away who you are. You’re free now” Steve said with a soft voice, and I could understand that HYDRA did something to him too.

Free. The word settled in my chest, and I clenched my fists, feeling a shiver of something moving beneath my skin. I wasn’t sure if I could ever feel free. I looked around the room again, at T’Challa’s steady calm, at the Queen’s reassuring presence, at Shuri’s quiet curiosity and Steve’s searching gaze.

The word free hung in the air, feeling almost real.

“Then… tell me more” I said, my voice quiet but firm, feeling a small spark of confidence. “About them. About me. And about these things they forced on me”

The sun was warm, casting a golden glow over the streets of Wakanda’s city. As we stepped into the noisy market, I felt my heartbeat going faster, my earlier tension fading away with each step. 

The city around me was alive, voices called out in languages I didn’t know, laughter and music blending in the air. 

I looked at Shuri and T'Challa beside me, watching the way people greeted them with a gesture I never saw before, crossing their arms over their chests and bowing their heads with a deep respect. The sight of it made me stop for a moment. I hadn’t been greeted in years, let alone with kindness or respect. But here, people didn’t just greet the royalty, they noticed me, too. A few curious glances passed over me, but they were warm, gentle, not the sharp stares I was used to from the doctors. Shuri noticed me watching, a small smile on her face as she nudged my shoulder.

"Come on, Astrid. Let us show you around" she said, pointing to a row of stands covered in fabrics of every color imaginable.

A flash of bright purple caught my eye, and I found myself drifting over to a stand that sells women's clothes. I reached out to touch one, surprised by the soft texture beneath my fingers.

"Is this… silk?" I asked, running my hand along the fabric.

The vendor nodded with a kind smile, answering me in a language I couldn’t understand. I let it slip between my fingers like water, unable to stop myself from smiling. 

I moved from stand to stand, feeling the excitement growing with every new thing I discovered. The jewelry that hung like stars, the scent of spices that made my nose tickle, fruits that were so bright they looked like they’d been painted.

At one point, I caught T'Challa’s eye, and he gave me a small nod, encouraging. I felt an unexpected thrill as I spun around, noticing even more of the market. Children ran by, laughing as they chased each other, and their energy felt like it sparked something awake inside me.

As we walked further into the streets, the sights kept unfolding before me like a dream. Artists painting on fabric, musicians playing instruments that looked like something from another world.. I reached out to touch a carved wooden figure of an animal, tracing the smooth, dark wood with my fingers, marveling at the details etched into its body.

“You like it?” T'Challa’s voice was calm, warm.

“What is it?” I asked, curious with the figure, not knowing what animal it was.

“A panther” he smiled.

 “It’s beautiful” I murmured. “Everything here is beautiful.”

A little boy ran towards us, holding out a flower he picked from a nearby store, a wide smile on his face. His mother hurried over, apologizing and scolding him gently, but T'Challa simply took the flower with a gracious nod, passing it to me while he talked with the little boy in another language.

“He said that it’s for you and only you” he said, a trace of laughter in his voice.

My fingers closed around the delicate rose while I looked at the boy, and somehow my body worked on its own, bringing my arms to my chest and crossing them, doing the same gesture I saw Shuri and T’Challa do no longer ago. And to my surprise, the little boy did the same, looking at me with big eyes before walking away with his mother.

I looked back at T'Challa and Shuri, who were both watching me with patient smiles. They weren’t rushing me, weren’t demanding anything from me. They were just… here. Walking with me, showing me this new world.

“I never knew anything like this could exist” I whispered, more to myself than to them.

 “There’s much more to see. And… much more we can show you, if you’re willing” she said, her voice gentle.

“Yes, please” I smiled, playing with a strain of my hair.

I looked around at the streets bustling with life, feeling the flower between my fingers. We kept walking around, going to the stands and exploring the streets, discovering new things, new scents, new forms.

As we drifted through the streets, a flash of movement caught my eye near the edge of the street, making my instinct go on and stand defensive.

Something small walked through a spot of sunlight, tail raised high as it moved gracefully. I stopped in my tracks, watching as it stretched and then settled into a pool of light.

Then, a pair of golden eyes met mine.

“What… what is that?” I asked, barely more than a whisper.

“That,” Shuri chuckled, pointing at the animal “is a cat.”

“A cat?” I frowned.

“Yes” she nodded, surprised, looking back at her brother. “You’ve never seen one?”

“No… it’s beautiful” I said, shaking my head slowly, unable to look away. The cat tilted its head, as if it was curious about me, and then began to clean one of its front paws, licking it delicately with a tiny pink tongue.

There was something quietly wise about the way the cat looked at me, unafraid and almost knowing. Its calmness in my presence was strangely comforting, and I found myself wanting to reach out, to touch its soft looking fur.

“Go on” Shuri smiled, her voice gentle, like she could sense my hesitation. “Cats can be curious but are often friendly, especially here in Wakanda. We believe they bring good luck.”

I took a step forward and kneeled on the ground, extending my hand slowly. The cat paused its previous activity and watched me approach, unbothered, as if allowing me the privilege of its presence. Its eyes followed my hand as I extended it a few inches away, and I held my breath.

The cat moved closer, gave my fingers a light sniff, and then, very unexpectedly, rubbed its head against my palm. The fur was even softer than I imagined. My fingers twitched, and I began to stroke along its back.

The cat let out a soft, rumbling sound, a sort of rhythmic vibration that seemed to fill the air between us. I looked back at Shuri and T’Challa, confused, and they just gave me a smile back.

“It’s purring” he said, laughing softly. “It means it likes you.”

I turned back to the cat, watching as it curled itself around my hand, still purring, the sound comforting and low. I had never known anything so small could be so gentle, so warm. The cat rubbed against me one last time, curling the tail around my wrist, and took a step away, turning around and walking slowly away.

There was something freeing about that little creature, moving through life with ease, no shackles, no fear. I stood slowly, feeling a softness settle over me as if the cat had left a quiet blessing in its wake.

“They have a way of making you feel grounded, don’t they?” Shuri smiled, placing her hand on my shoulder.

The vehicle hummed softly beneath me, a sound so gentle it was almost soothing, if it weren’t for the fact that I was sitting in an actual flying machine. My knuckles were white where I gripped the seat, my fingers pressing into the cool leather as I tried not to glance too much at the windows. Outside, the sky was a deep, endless blue, stretching on in all directions as if we were the only thing in it. My heartbeat thrummed along with the sound of the jet, a mixture of fear and something that felt a little too much like wonder.

It wasn’t like the planes HYDRA used, there was no roaring engine, no bulky metal frame. This was sleek, smooth, quiet. Too quiet. 

I swallowed, catching a glimpse of T’Challa and Shuri, both looking so at ease, as if they flew a thousand times in this thing. Shuri caught my eye and gave me a little grin.

“First time?” she asked, her voice casual, but I could see the curiosity in her eyes.

 “Feels…strange” I admitted, glancing at the controls in front of her, lights blinking softly in patterns. “I never thought… It’s like I’m floating”

“Wakandan jets are special” Shuri said, leaning toward me, her tone warm and friendly. “It’s almost like the jet does half the work. Just think of it as an extension of you, it’s not so scary once you know that.”

I nodded, though the idea of a jet being an extension of me felt almost laughable. But somehow, the way she said it made it a little easier to breathe. T’Challa, sitting across from us, gave a slow nod of approval, his calm presence anchoring me.

After a few minutes, the world outside began to shift. Green forests, mountains  against the horizon, and far below, rivers running free. I almost forgot my panic, leaning closer to the window to take it all in. It was beautiful. Wild, untouched in a way I’d never seen. Not in the cold, empty spaces of Siberia. This was alive. And then I saw it, an animal with its mouth wide open showing their teeth.

“A panther?” I asked, looking back at T’Challa, remembering the small wooden figure I saw in the market, that was now in a small bag hanging across my body.

“It’s our symbol” he nodded.

The jet began to descend toward the mountains, toward a building that seemed almost hidden in the rocks. The landing was as smooth as silk, barely a bump, but still, my breath caught. Then the doors opened, and I stepped out onto solid ground with a sense of relief that was almost embarrassing.

“This way” T’Challa said, gesturing toward the entrance of the building, his voice soft filled with a laugh.

Shuri walked ahead, looking back over her shoulder to make sure I was following, as if sensing that each step brought a new wave of unease mixed with a thrill of curiosity. I followed them down a series of hallways, filled with a kind of soft, ambient light that seemed almost calming and welcoming.

“Welcome to the Heart of Wakanda” Shuri smiled, her voice filled with enthusiasm. “This is where we conduct research, develop technology, and, well, keep an eye on the universe”

She led me past rows of tidy workstations, all of them filled with high tech things and holographic screens. Every device looked as if it belonged to another planet, not in a real laboratory. I couldn’t help but reach out to touch one of the panels, a shimmering surface that lit up under my fingers.

“Careful with that!” Shuri laughed, pulling my hand back gently. “That’s a prototype for a new energy source. We don’t want it going off unexpectedly!”

“Energy source?” I echoed, my voice almost a whisper. It was like I’d stepped into a dream where anything was possible.

“Yes! We use the energy of vibranium, and we’re working on ways to make it more efficient. This will help power our cities and protect Wakanda from external threats.” She paused, eyes bright with passion. “But there’s more. Come with me!”

T’Challa walked beside us, observing with a soft smile as Shuri led me further into the lab. She gestured to a large glass chamber filled with some type of liquid. I looked carefully at it, watching how the bubbles moved around in a hypnotic way.

 “This is where we conduct advanced medical research” she explained. “We’re developing ways to enhance the healing properties of vibranium, not just for our warriors but for everyone.”

“You can do that?” I asked surprised, looking at her like she had some type of magic in her hands.

 “Of course! Healing is as much a part of our technology as combat is. We want to protect our people, body and soul” she nodded, looking at the liquid too.

We continued down the corridor, passing by a series of doors that led to rooms filled with unfamiliar machines, tools, and what looked like training simulations. My heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety.

“Do you want to see where we develop our combat technology?” Shuri asked, noticing my curiosity.

I nodded slowly, following her movements with my eyes, looking back at T’Challa, searching for his approval.

“Here’s where we test our suits and weapons” Shuri said proudly, activating a holographic display that lit up the room. “We’re always looking to improve our gear.”

My breath caught as I watched a hologram of a suit materialize before me, the design intricate and flowing. It was completely black, with purple lines of it and a texture that made the whole suit shine.

“It’s beautiful” I whispered looking at it, looking at the silver necklace.

The hum of the lab felt like it was vibrating inside me, a strange resonance that settled deep in my chest. Shuri’s voice drifted in and out as she explained something about the vibranium, but my mind wasn’t fully there. 

Instead, something else was disturbing my senses. A voice, deep and raspy, as if someone was whispering through the wind.

“Aetheris…”

I turned my head slowly, blinking, trying to shake the feeling. The voice came again, almost impossible to hear but strangely…familiar.

“Aetheris…”

It was closer this time, like a thread pulling me forward, and I couldn't help but follow. My footsteps echoed through the lab as I moved away from the main workspace, slipping down a quiet corridor where the hum of machinery was softer.

I could feel it, like a pulse. I barely noticed T'Challa and Shuri calling after me, my attention locked on the voice that whispered in my mind.

The voice led me, guiding me down a path lined with doors and lights, each step pulling me closer to something. Or someone.

I stopped outside a large door, different from the others, feeling an inexplicable pressure in the air around it. The voice was strongest here, a murmur just out of reach, fading in and out as if whoever was calling me was barely holding on. My hand trembled as I reached for the door, only placing my fingers on it to watch it open slowly.

In the center of the room, lying in a glass capsule, was a person. I stepped forward, the pull I felt growing almost unbearable now, filling me with something I couldn’t name.

I moved closer until I could see the man lying in the chamber. He was still, his face peaceful and resting, his hair falling over his forehead in loose strands. He looked as if he were caught in some eternal dream, waiting for something.

Something in my chest tightened as I looked at him, a strange ache that felt too real to ignore. His face stirred memories I couldn't place, pieces of dreams I didn’t know I had. 

My fingers touched the glass carefully as the whisper of the voice echoed again in my mind, soft and insistent.

“Who are you” I whisper.

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@alltoomaples @jadeofspadesxp @leptitlu @deliciousfestsalad @mendes-bae

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

Family trees

The day Akai Shuuichi is born, his father plants a sapling.

A weeping willow, as is custom for his time of birth, raised from seed to sapling by the young couple while Mary was pregnant, put onto the earth at the same time as the child. While not as strong as the oak, or as regal as holly, they hope their son will grow to be just as flexible, able withstand the adversities life will surely throw at him.

.

As the child grows, he's taught to take care of his birth tree. It grows rapidly, and needs trimming each season so it stays healthy, so perhaps sooner than he should, Akai gets to hold the pruning shears, snipping away where his father tells him to.

.

He plays under it - he's too young to climb it yet, and so is his tree. It sways gently in the wind, a mosaic of light and shadow across his face as he weaves through the branches, laughing without a care in the world.

.

He gets a baby brother, and really annoys his mother that one time by hiding the both of them under his willow's branches.

.

By the time he's ten, the willow is as tall and lovely as it could be. In spring, the catkins bloom, small and hidden, without fragrance, but still buzzing with activity. The child is equally unobtrusive, unbothered by the insects. One of the branches has been allowed to grow sideways, close to the ground, and Akai is often found lazing around on it, napping or reading, shielded from the rest of the world.

.

By the time he's 15, the willow has reached full maturity.

It's only natural, then, that so has the boy of days-gone-by. He leaves his roots behind, branching out to find the one he lost.

.

Akai runs to the last place he called home when his cover is blown, to lay low and recover for a few months.

His family home has been abandoned for more than a decade now. Family friends have been checking up on the grounds to make sure there are no squatters, and a gardener came by every year to make sure it doesn't look completely abandoned up front, but the small garden behind the house is wild and overgrown.

He spends his time trying to undo the damage time and abandonment have wrought.

Some are beyond help.

His father's mighty oak has fallen, withered from within. He spends a week cutting it down into firewood for the winter, although it's likely he won't be here for it.

His brother's rowan needs pruning, having grown wild and unfocused, though there's a lovely set of wild roses that's grown beside it. He can't bear to cut them all down, so he just trims both of them down to size.

Below his willow, small white flowers that dwell in twilight have grown, their blossoms wilting in the late summer heat. It's a shame he didn't get to see them bloom. Poison ivy has started wrapping itself around the bottom of the tree. It might be poisonous to humans, but it won't hurt the willow while it's healthy, so he leaves it be.

If it's weak enough to be consumed by the ivy, then so be it.

.

He's not there to witness it, but when he's thirty-two, the willow is struck by lightning. The ivy burns with it.

.

The next time he visits, the willow is starting to wilt, itself.

Lack of care during its prime hasn't done it any favours, and it's probably really only still in shape because the ivy has wound itself around the stem quite tightly. In fact, the burnt and blackened parts, destroyed past recognition, are covered by it, making it appear healthier than it really is. But Akai has cared for his tree for years and years; he knows it will soon be time to cut it down in order to not become a hazard.

It's a bit of a shame; birds are singing in its branches, bugs and bees have made it their home, and when he kisses his lover behind a veil of leaves, for a moment, the world narrows in on just the two of them.

(He should've brought Rei sooner.)

.

They stay for a month, their first real vacation in years now, watching as the leaves turn brown and then, finally, fall.

While they wait, they tend to things - the house, the garden, themselves and each other. It's a far cry from the lives they usually lead, bringing with its own set of challenges, but they manage to weather them, together - even if it is strange and sometimes difficult for the other to be around at all times. This is the path they've chosen, the one they want to travel together. They're not backing out easily.

Which is good, because getting the necessary phytosanitary documentation for bringing a branch-turned-sapling to Japan is a bit of a pain.

They leave the old willow behind, cut up into firewood, the ivy grown in too deep to separate. One day, their ashes will be scattered together.

.

They dig a hole, together, and plant the sapling in the company of friends and family.

Just like the child it was bound to, long ago, the willow comes back from the dead in their new home. Theirs is a small house in the outskirts of Beika, much more of the grounds they purchased together dedicated to creating a garden.

For now, Akai tends to it. Eventually, his husband will retire there, too.

.

The seasons come and go, the years pass, and eventually, the willow is large and lovely, though a little lonely, standing tall and proud on its own. Flowers may grow in the meadow beneath, but all trees are kept a certain distance, to preserve its majesty.

It's Rei who makes the suggestion one evening as they're reading in the study, pointing to an illustration of 'àitason', the married vine.

For rather obvious reasons, they've never quite gotten back into drinking heavy liquor, but on occasion, they do enjoy a glass of grape juice, fermented or otherwise, and Rei's been pushing for growing some grapes of their own. He used to leave his husband free reign (leading to lots and lots of hydrangeas), but now that Rei's retired too - and hey, even a couple years early, Akai's counting it as his win - Rei's got his own ideas for what to do with their garden, nitpicking and nagging in that passionate way of his that just shows how much he cares. Akai wouldn't have it any other way.

So he agrees.

.

Despite their shared experience - Rei getting dragged in under grumbled protests many times throughout the years, though he eventually relents that it is actually quite pleasant to work side by side with Akai again - it takes them several years and just as many attempts to get the grapes to stick.

It tastes like defeat, every time they watch the vines wither and die, never even reaching the willow's tall branches. But if they've kept anything from the tumultuous days when they first started dating, it's their attitude to keep trying and trying to make things work. If a couple of years in a long-distance relationship, stationed on different sides of the globe, haven't managed to disentangle the pair of them, a streak of horticultural failures won't break them either.

They're revitalizing their life together, now that they can, and this challenge is just adding spice.

Shuukichi's twins save them, eventually, clambering up the tree to wrap the vines several times around a branch to steady it. Akai had insisted he could do it just fine, and then Rei had knocked the walking cane from his hand and caught him as he stumbled, stealing a kiss and handing the can back. While Akai prefers Rei's breathless 'yes', his cheeky 'no' is almost as good.

And when the vines still hold onto the stem in a gently curved arc after a storm, and Rei kisses him silly, well, it's just the two of them again, like so many years ago.

.

The willow turns twenty-five, and the pair of them renew their vows beneath its branches. They've taken good care of it, this time around; it will last a good twenty-five more, though the same might not be said for them.

Weeping willow is an accurate name for the occasion- they've never expected to make it this far, and now that they have, it's worth celebrating their roots.

The days are getting longer and harder, but their love is still growing softly and steadily, gently winding around them.

They've managed to produce just enough grape juice to give each of their guests a shot glass' worth.

.

The willow is growing old and rugged, despite good care.

Their gardening days are over, and so the plants are mostly left to their own devices unless family comes by to help out - which is every two weeks, when Masumi comes by and brings her kids. Grumpy teens they may be, but Akai once was one himself - he knows how to get them to open up about their interests, when to drop a spy fact to impress them.

Akai's been slowly losing his vision, leaning on his husband for support and descriptions. Rei's laughter, quiet, but true, by his side when he strings them along is his greatest joy. Maybe he did learn a thing or two from his husband's machinations.

.

They sit, one afternoon, under willow and vine, taking a nap. Akai doesn't wake up anymore, finally having found peace.

Rei keeps his husband's ashes, so when he, too, passes, they can be scattered together.

He doesn't have to wait long. Without Akai to grasp for support, there's little to hold him anymore, and soon he, too, collapses.

.

Together, they return to the earth from whence they came, under their beloved willow tree.

[pumpkinsarchives]

Terms in Witchcraft (You may encounter) A's - Part 1

Note: Not a complete list of all terms, but does include quite a few, along with their meanings.

by: @chickenroost

ACOLTYE: a beginner or "novice" as used in many magical orders and groups. Typically denotes the lowest rank in such a group.

ADEPT: one who has reached a certain level of mastery in their studies of magic. can also denote a specific level of initiation in a craft tradition.

AFFIRMATIONS: a belief that repetitive "Positive Assertive Thoughts" will influence people and reality. also known as "Power of Positive Thinking."

ALEXANDRIAN TRADITION: A Wiccan religious tradition which traces its linage to Alex Sanders of England, who died in 1988. Alex and Maxine Sanders were the founders; The Alexandrian tradition is an offshoot of Gardnerian Wicca, but also includes traces of Ceremonial Magick, Egyptian & Classical religions, Qabala, and the teachings of Aleister Crowley. This tradition has become the most popular in England because of its openness which makes it more accessible to seekers.

ALGARD TRADITION: A Wiccan religious tradition founded by Mary Nesnick, of N.Y. City, in late 70’s. Their Book of Shadows includes a combination of Gardnerian and Alexandrian components.

ALRAUN: a talismanic image made of rowan wood.

ALTAR: a table or sometimes any flat surface used to hold the symbols and tools during the performance of religious and/or magical rituals.

AMERICAN TRADITION: This Wiccan tradition is an offshoot of Gardnerian Wicca, founded by Ed Fitch and several Southern Californian Gardnerians in the late 70’s. The tradition includes Gardnerian material and additional material supplied by the founders. This tradition is sometimes known as Mohsian, after two of the founders whose last name was Mohs.

AMULET: a magically empowered object that deflects (sends away) specific, usually negative, energies. Generally, a protective object.

ANAPHRODISIAC: a substance, such as camphor, that reduces sexual desires.

ANIMA / ANIMUS: Jungarian concept that ANIMA, is the buried feminine element in a man’s psyche & that ANIMUS is the buried masculine element in the female. This then fits to the Pagan views that Self and/or Soul, is both male & female, and with the concepts of reincarnation

ANIMISTIC: the belief that all forms of Nature have a Divine Spirit within.

APHORISM: a sparsely worded, and direct little saying. Ex.: ‘As above, So below.’

APHRODISIAC: a substance that produces sexual excitement. Similar to Viagra

ARCADIAN TRADITION: A Male oriented worship of the Horned God. side note: most Arcadian groups admit women

ARCANA: 1) Secret knowledge. 2) used to denote a classification of the cards in a TAROT deck of cards. The Major Arcana being the “trumps” numbered from 0 to 21, the Minor Arcana being the 56 “court” cards

AROMATHERAPY: 1) use of various flower, herb, oil and incense fragrances and smells. 2) HOLISTIC AROMA: uses massage and smell. 3) MAGICKAL AROMA: uses smell and visualization

”AS ABOVE, SO BELOW.”: this saying means that universal & natural laws apply to inner & outer consciousness. That everything is connected and is part of everything else

ASPECTS: qualities or characteristics of something or Diety, etc. Ex.: Luna is an aspect of the Moon Goddess. Orion is an aspect of the antlered or Horned God

[faeriecinna]

Manuscript Search Tag

I was tagged twice, once by @verba-writing and once by @somethingclevermahogony So I'm gonna combine them!

My words are: Welcome / Time / Drop / Wrath / Shudder

Your words are: Alive / Disaster / Noise

I'll tag @dyrewrites @illarian-rambling and @brotrustmeicanwrite

(Project.Seraph) Reinette stepped forth, regarding Nevaeh with a gaze that lingered, burning and prickling as if it was burrowing beneath her skin. The tip of her cane lifted from the ground and halted at the soft flesh beneath the angel’s chin, a sharp point against the apex of her throat. Her Majesty grinned with a saccharine sadism, circling the seraph with predatory grace – a panther sizing up a gazelle before lunging for it’s first bite. “Welcome, Little Bird.”

(Project.Ink) As always, the dinner table was set with uninterrupted precision, the utensils arranged with meticulous care. The food, though seemingly ordinary, carried an unfamiliar taste – a subtle undercurrent of bitterness that lingered on the palate. Rowan's attempts at casual conversation were met with responses that bordered on scripted, as if the very words were rehearsed. When Rowan retired to her room, a sense of isolation settled in, smothering. The walls seemed to whisper secrets, and the floorboards creaked with the weight of unspoken truths. She glanced out of her window, a view of the dense forest beyond the village. ‘The Grey’ the townspeople called it. Her parents had warned her countless times about the dangers that lurked within those ancient trees, emphasizing that no curiosity should lead her astray. Yet, tonight, as the moon cast a gossamer glow upon the woods, an inexplicable yearning tugged at the edges of her consciousness.

(Project.Seraph) The first two projectiles missed by inches, whistling past menacingly. The third found its mark. Nevaeh shrieked, dropping substantially in mid-flight, her body folding as white-hot pain bloomed between her ribs. It was by force of sheer will power that she remained suspended in the air. Until the next two arrows impaled themselves in her plumage in quick succession. Nothing could be done as Nevaeh began to plummet towards the ground. Thick branches creaked and snapped as her body ricocheted off them, doing nothing to slow her descent to the forest floor. With her last second of consciousness, the angel hoped that her fall had taken her far enough away that it would at least take the cavalry some time before they happened upon her broken body nestled between the ancient pines. It would have been a small mercy – a kindness – if her life force slipped away before she could be dragged onto the back of a horse and carried away to face the wrath of The Queen.

Shudder became Tremble

(Project.Seraph) With a silent determination, Nevaeh made her way out of the water, pulling herself onto the shore with shaky arms and drawing away into a thicket of honeysuckle, crouching to regain her breath. The gravity of her situation weighed heavily on her shoulders and a trembling sigh mingled with the cool spring air. In her first moment of guarded peace since the chase began, she allowed her eyes to close momentarily as she inhaled deeply, taking comfort in the gourmand fragrance of the flowers. It should have occurred to her that all tranquility was fleeting in the Kingdom of Infernelle.

[yuichiroswife]

Her legs moved in their own, running at full speed once she distinguished that blond hair and crimson eyes through the distance amidst the smoke, the blood and the chaos. It clicked and ran across her spine like a mechanic action, a reflex, a primal instinct, a move so close to a need she decided to go forward with it when it was already too late to fall back.

Because he was home, he was the safest place on earth right now.

Cross jumped into his arms with enough force to tackle any other living creature, but not him. He was sturdy as pilar, inmovable as a rock, and she felt his arms around her protectively putting her together. Her head pressed against the crook of his neck, lips crashe against his shoulder, eyes shit fiercely.

❝You're alive,❞ Rowan claimed in a whimper. ❝You're alive, you're alive, you're alive.❞

✠ — THE LONG HOURS OF SCREAMS PIERCING THROUGH THE AIR WAS ENOUGH TO DISORIENTATE HIM, mind spinning round and round in circles as he tried to his best to adjust to the sudden silence that followed, ears filled with nothing but static noise — blonde strands of hair somewhat dishelmed, splattered with flecks of fresh blood (whether it was friend or foe he didn't know), crimson irises doing their best to readjust to his surroundings — peering through the lingering smoke as he continued to gather his bearings. Serving as a foot soldier often lead to many grueling battles against whoever decided they were going to be their enemy for the day, but today had been especially challenging. He hadn't expected there to be so much destruction and chaos amongst the battlefield, at least not to this extent.

✠ — Hence why the sudden sight of Crosseyra Rowan, A HUMAN WOMAN WHO HE NEVER IMAGINED HE'D GROW SO ATTACHED TO, running towards him at a full sprint does nothing but catch him off guard — small petite body colliding with his own toned body, thin arms coming to wrap themselves around his shoulders while her legs wrapped around his waist. Despite being disorientated, he doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her small frame: one arm placed around her waist with a hand against her upper back while the other was wrapped underneath her legs with a hand placed against her bottom — grasp only becoming that much firmer once he comes back to his senses. He leans his head against the top of crimson strands upon her head, taking in the sweet fragrance he's come to know her by, it's more than enough to pull a soft sigh from his lips.

✠ — "Of course I'm alive," HE STARTS IN A SOFT TONE OF VOICE WHEN HE SPEAKS, "I told you that I would come back, didn't I?" There's a moment of silence between the two after he says this, almost as if he was allowing his words to sink in for his female companion, "I'm not going to die and leave you all alone, Cross. I'll make sure to come back to you every single time. No matter how difficult it may be." There had been no truer words that he'd spoken than in that moment. He wanted to be with Crosseyra, no matter what type of situations the two of them would get into, no matter what baggage the two of them possessed. He always wanted to be by her side.

[engbergsinfinland]

Happy Tuesday, everybody!

So, I'd written down three things that I wanted to mention in today's post and then I'll get to all of the daily goings-on. So, Finland has its own professional hockey league, Liiga, which by many accounts is one of the best hockey leagues in the world. Currently, there are 49 Finns playing in the NHL. That is 5% of all NHL players. The NHL for many hockey players is the ultimate destination, the highest goal, but there are other leagues in Europe that are very competitive and very popular. Liiga is one of them. There are two teams in the top division of Liiga here in Tampere: Ilves and Tappara. So, apparently, everyone must choose a side. I am prepared to declare my side right now. I am a supporter of Tappara. Their colors are the same as the Detroit Tigers and their logo is a medieval battle axe, not a weirdly drawn lynx. Observe:

So, as you can see, the Tappara logo is superior. We were told a lot about these two teams when we were at the kids' classmates' house last Saturday. The son, Joaquim, is a big Tappara supporter and the dad, Mika, says it is a great idea to go see a game at Nokia Arena when they play each other. I am going to plan to do that.

Another thing I wanted to mention this week is that Eric collected a few apples from a bin outside of someone's house, a bin designated for passers-by to take fruit from, and when he got these few apples home, they smelled amazing! I have never smelled apples with such an amazing scent. The were lighter yellow-green than apples I typically see in the store. Not green like a Granny Smith. But the fragrance was something I wish I could include in this blog for you.

I wanted to tell you about about my visit to my unit, "Languages," in the faculty of Information Technology & Communication Science, on Monday. My colleague and host, Maija, helped me find out what my classroom would be for Wednesday, when my first class convenes. Now, she and I had to click around a lot on Sisu, their internal faculty/staff/student web area, and finally, we found where the class meets -- but what shocked me, and I never would've thought, was that over fifteen weeks, the class meets in a different room each week! So very glad she clued me in to this! We went and visited the classrooms for the first two weeks. The first is in our building (Pinni B) and the other is in the building next door, sort of the main campus building, or at least the one that says the university's name on the front. Now, there, we looked for the room (A161 or something) and we could not find it for the life of us, so we went to the information desk, and the guy said, "oh, that one is down the stairs and down a corridor to your right and actually says B6." What?? Anyway, I think I will be visiting the information desk a lot. I teach my first class tomorrow! Also, interestingly, the class is listed for 12-2 p.m. but Maija clarified that it actually starts at 12:15 and ends at 1:45. Good to know!

In other news, on Sunday, Cece and went on a lovely walk (while Eric and Rowan were mountain biking) on the shores of Pyhäjärvi and we studied all of the small boats and canoes chained up on the side of the lake. It was a pretty windy day but still so nice. We took a sharp right and headed up a very steep staircase, with very uneven stairs, and we found ourselves back in the town and near a miniature golf course! Walking back home, I saw my dream apartment building: mint green with adorably and each-very-unique little balconies. I will try to get a photo of it sometime.

Rowan had tap and both kids had skating on Sunday afternoon and late afternoon, and for skating, we were at a new rink this time! Tesoma. There are so many jäähallit! Eric found a running group, ParkRun, and he ran a very fast 5k for him! He was stoked and very glad to have found a running group. Now, he's working to find a swimming group! There are lots of organized "hobby groups" for adults and they even get funding from the government.

Today is Tuesday and Cece had her first night of gymnastics! I did not get to go because I had a meeting with my co-author and the acquisitions editor at SUNY Press -- who is contracting our book!!! Woohooo!!!! We expect to finish it in June--after which the Editorial Board can say "no thanks," based on the peer reviewers' remarks, but that rarely happens to books like ours, that have been contracted as a result of the recommendation of the series editors and the chapters we've already submitted. Better start (or rather, continue) writing ;)

[towriteloveontheirarms]

If I may ask... How about Xavier and Female reader first kiss with extra fluff on the side? Only if you're feeling it of course!!!

Thank you!

I´m sorry this took forever I was just very unhappy with everything that I wrote until now. (I also might really be in a Rowan mood rn) I hope you enjoy <3

The perfect moment for a kiss

pairing: Xavier Thorpe x fem!reader

synopsis: Xavier, your best friend, comes over during summer vacation, as he always does. During his stay, feelings that aren´t so platonic get revealed.

warnings: none

word count: 0.8k

“Alright, that was the last one.”, you turn to your friends. 

With the suitcases in the trunk of your parent's car, there was only thing to do before driving off for the summer. Hugging each of them tightly as you said your goodbyes. It would be great to not have to think about school for the next month, but you would miss the little group for sure. Letting your arms linger on Xaviers shoulders for a second longer before pulling away.  

“I can´t wait for you to come over. This summer is gonna be so awesome.”, you grin widely at him. 

“It will be for sure. Call me when you´re home?”, a half-smile played on his lips. 

“You know I will.” 

You pulled him close once more, kissing his cheek as you always did and waved to the others, who were getting ready to head back inside, before getting into the car. It was gonna be weird to spend the next weeks without him. Ever since you and Xavier had become best friends you would never go a day without each other. You were happy when he started to stay the holidays with you instead of alone and actually had something to look forward to every summer. Not that your parents didn´t care or were boring, by any means they did their best, but with Xavier it was just different. Especially this summer. There were a bunch of concerts and events happening and you managed to get tickets to almost every single one of them. 

On the drive home you concentrated on your music and texting. Your parents didn´t live particularly close to nevermore and having to drive all the way because of your father's fright of flying didn´t make it any shorter.

Once you finally did reach home it felt like forever until you saw Xavier again. Your mothers constant teasing making it even worse, but the day you wrapped your arms around him in at the airport it felt like taking a deep breath after holding it for just a bit too long.

The first days the two of you spent doing nothing, but when the weekend approached you spend most of the day in the next city, for some window shopping and a movie the both of you had been meaning to watch. 

Coming home late that afternoon you could barely feel your feet over the pain, but the energy from spending the day in the city was still buzzing through you.  

“Hey, I´m gonna go shower quick. I´ll be back out in a minute.” 

“Okay.” 

In the meantime, you started to unpack your loot to keep yourself occupied. Hearing the shower turn off, you gave Xavier some more time before knocking on the door to put away the last things. 

“Wow.”, the small containers clattered to the ground. 

It wasn´t the lack of clothing on him that made you take a surprised step back, the two of you had become comfortable with that long ago, but rather how close he stood in the now open bathroom door. Though now that you were looking at him everything just pulled you in. The way his wet hair framed his face. How his toned upper body flexed as he leaned his arm against the doorframe. The piny fragrance that always surrounded him entering your nose. You didn´t even realise how close you got to him or how your eyes locked in an intense gaze. 

"This would probably be the perfect moment for a kiss...", your eyes wander to his lips. 

"And we probably shouldn't waste it.", his rough hands cup your cheeks as if you would vanish if he touched you too hard. 

The two of you move closer and then there is no turning back anymore. Right as your lips meet in the softest of kisses, you´re pretty sure you can feel your knees buckle underneath you as butterflies soar up in your stomach. Too soon you separate again, shy smiles and deep blushes taking over your faces. Suddenly the floor had become more interesting than ever. 

“I um... I guess this also is as good of a time as any to tell you that I might... love you.”, there is a deep silence after you finish your sentence. 

It settles between you like the sinking feeling in your stomach. You go to sit down on your bed, picking at your fingers. Why wasn´t he saying anything? All of a sudden, a hand lays on top of yours, hindering you from continuing your actions. It takes all the nerves left, but you look up. 

“I love you too.”, his voice is quiet. Like he is afraid to admit his feelings out loud. 

“You do?”, you search for his eyes. 

“I think I have for a while." 

You release a breathy laugh. “So, if I asked you out to get drinks before the concert tomorrow as a date...” 

“I´d say that that sounds like a great plan.” 

He pulls you in once more to peck your lips, before you can´t hold back the wide grins anymore. 

“Dinners ready!”, your mom pulls you out of the moment. Squeezing Xaviers hand softly you let him finish getting dressed before you join your parents in the dining room.

[live-the-fangirl-life]

A Matching Set

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn

Aelin and Rowan have different approaches to Valentine's Day gift-giving

Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Valentines Collection

Warnings: Language, Allude to NSFW

1501 words

*******

Waking up to sunlight streaming in through the window, Aelin stretched, trying her best not to disturb her fiancé whose arm was slung around her midsection.

Her efforts were in vain, however, as he tightened his grip and pulled her further back into his embrace. She smiled as his sleepy voice drifted towards her. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Fireheart.”

Aelin wiggled her ass into him and huffed a laugh as his grip tightened again, before twisting around to face Rowan. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Buzzard.”

Rolling his eyes, he pulled her on top of him so her elbows rested on his chest. “Let’s stay in bed today,” he suggested.

She quirked a brow at her usually up-and-at-’em fiancé.

At her expression, he rolled them over so she was pinned beneath him. “It’s Valentine’s Day,” he began trailing kisses down her throat. “Who’s gonna fault us for spending it in bed?” he rolled his hips to emphasize his point.

Aelin wrapped her arms around his neck, but teased, “What about presents? We can’t stay in bed all day.”

He growled, his voice still husky with sleep. “Presents later.” he compromised, dragging a breathless agreement out of her as his lips found their way back to her skin.

“Presents later,” she confirmed.

***

Several hours later, she and Rowan found themselves on the floor of their living room. She had Rowan’s gift beside her and he had hers hidden around the edge of their sofa.

Sitting in her robe, Aelin sipped on a mug of sweet coffee as she kept trying to peek around the sofa to see what he was hiding.

“Since you’re obviously so impatient,” he smirked at her affronted scoff. “Close your eyes.”

She set down her coffee and eagerly squeezed her eyes shut, reaching her hands out in front of her and wiggling her fingers as she heard him pick something up and bring it closer to her.

“Okay, you can open them.” She heard the smile in Rowan’s voice as she opened her eyes and saw him holding a blooming bouquet of Kingsflame flowers. The sweet fragrance emanating from the red and gold petals intensified as she gently took the bouquet from him and brought them to her nose, beaming.

“Ow,” She jerked her head back and noticed one of the flowers appeared to be plastic. After a quick inspection, she found that all the rest were real.

“Careful,” he chuckled, reaching a hand towards her face and gently rubbing the tip of her nose that had brushed the hard plastic.

She met his eye questioningly. “Rowan, they’re beautiful,” she smiled, “but why is this one plastic?”

Her fiancé grinned softly at her. “Because, Fireheart, my gift to you is my promise to love you until the last blossom dies.”

Aelin felt her throat get tight and water pool on the lower lids of her eyes. She looked back at the bright flowers and ran a finger along the fake petals, savoring the roughness of the inanimate blossom. When she met his eyes again, his were filled with so much love that the dam within her broke and she let her tears fall.

Pushing herself forward, Aelin moved her free hand to the nape of Rowan’s neck and pulled him into a soft kiss. When they broke apart, she left one more light peck on his cheek before sitting back on her heels.

“That was so fucking corny,” she told him, wetly, as happy tears continued to fall down her cheeks.

Rowan laughed, grinning, and pretended to reach for the bouquet. “If that’s what you think then I’ll take them back.”

“No!” she twisted, holding the flowers close to her chest. “They’re mine. I love them.”

“Good.” he looked satisfied with himself. “Happy Valentine's Day.”

When his eyes darted towards the wrapped box sitting beside Aelin with his name scrawled on it, she laughed hoarsely, turning to grab the red present and shove it behind her. But Rowan’s hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her.

“Hey,” he calmly pried the package from her fingers and flashed her a crooked smile. “I gave you your present, now I want to see mine.”

Aelin blanched. She felt her cheeks heat and her usual bravado falter as she hastily reached for the gift again. “You know what? I actually made a mistake and this isn’t your gift, your gift is, uh, in my car, but—”

“Aelin?” He quirked a brow at her.

She sighed and glared down at her the present. “No. I don’t want to give it to you now.”

“What? Why?” He watched her, surely wondering why she suddenly wanted to set her gift to him on fire when just that morning she’d been teasing him about how she couldn’t wait for him to have it.

She winced, “Because yours was so sweet,” she wiped the remaining dampness from her eyes in emphasis, earning a small grin from her fiancé. “And this…isn’t.”

“You got me something salty for Valentine’s day?” He teased, hoping to pull a laugh from her and his grin widened when he succeeded.

Aelin rolled her eyes, playfully knocking his shoulder. “More like, spicy.

Rowan snorted, finally grabbing the present from her and holding it protectively in his lap. “Spicy? What does that even mean?”

She blew out a harsh breath, watching as a few strands of hair flew up from her forehead. “Okay, fine, whatever, open it.” She crossed her arms, sure her face was still wasn’t back to its natural shade.

“Such loving enthusiasm,” he deadpanned, trying not to smirk.

Aelin held up the bouquet of kingsflame and twirled it between her fingers as Rowan untied the bow and pried the lid off the box. She bit her lip, waiting, watching as he pulled out the tissue paper. He blinked down at the offending gift. Blinked again.

Then he tossed his head back and laughed. It was a loud, belly laugh that made Aelin smile. Regaining some composer, Rowan carded a hand through his hair and picked the garment up from the box, holding it up so she could see it.

Stretchy, tight, silky red shorts with pink hearts stared back at her with golden embroidery stitched across the back that read, in an elegant script, “Property of Aelin.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” She mumbled, her lips quirking into a smile at Rowan’s broad grin.

He snorted, turning the shorts around so he could look at the writing again. “I love them.”

Aelin raised a brow, giving him a flat look. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” he leaned forward and kissed her, enthusiastically enough that she broke away because she was smiling into it.

He reread the inscription again and glanced up at her. “Please tell me that you have a matching piece?” he asked hopefully.

Aelin snorted, relieved that he found it as entertaining as she had, “Why don’t you go try them on for me, and then I’ll let you know.”

Her wink got him on his feet and headed towards the bathroom. She used the moment to pull out a vase and situate the bouquet so that the singular plastic flower was in the center, surrounded by the sweet-smelling petals.

Aelin heard Rowan’s feet pad out of the bathroom and towards her before he spoke. “How do I look?”

She spun around and almost choked on air. The shorts were a stretchy spandex fabric so they clung to his muscular thighs perfectly. They also did nothing to hide the impressive, hardening bulge between said thighs. If anything, the shorts accentuated every line and curve, to the point that Rowan had to clear his throat to draw her eyes back up to his amused face.

Before she could respond, he slowly turned so that she could see the back. They clung just as wonderfully to his firm backside as they did on the front. Aelin bit her lip as she read the beautifully stretched inscription, the words only the littlest bit distorted across his ass.

“You look…” she trailed off as he turned again and met her gaze. She slowly stalked towards him until she could rest her hands on his bare chest. “perfect.”

He hummed, his arms coming around her. “Glad you think so.”

“And,” Aelin nodded, her expression turning coy. “to answer your question, yes, I do have a matching set.”

“Set?”

She smirked. “Mhm, and it’s got writing on both pieces.”

He groaned as Aelin stepped closer to him and dragged her hands down his back until they rested snugly against the embroidery on his ass.

“When will I get the privilege of reading it?” His own hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him so she could feel every inch of his arousal through the thin fabric.

With a feline smirk, Aelin pulled on the ties of her robe and let it fall to the floor. Rowan’s hands squeezed her waist again as he looked his fill upon the matching red and gold lingerie.

It was a gift for both of them.

*****

Taglist:

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[lellarps]

The terrible, relentless trap of a lustful, passionate hunter. Its prey a willing, mischievous thing.

Alexander was more than willing to oblige, his movements guided by hunger and the need that simmered within. His lips descended upon her exposed neck, kissing, sucking, leaving traces of his possession as though he meant to take a piece of her to carry always.

What a blissful, intoxicating moment—her fragrance, her warmth, her skin beneath his lips.

Delighed, he held her further in, before spinning her body and crushing their lips together in a fervant, demanding clash.

@rowan-revelry

Isobel's composure broke easily, a rough laughter pealing from her throat when his arms came around her.

She was delighted, of course, that he rose to the occasion - quite literally. Not entirely the vile, devil possessed witch, then. Something he might desire, proper. Her hands closed over his wrists as he grabbed at her, turned her face in towards him, the mirth warming into a breathy exhale of half-stoked desire. Nudged nose against nose but then angled away so that he could get to the neck more easily. To the artery proper. "Merciless," she mumbled, and seemed happy about the fact.

@lellarps

[rosachaotic]

Amortentia (Talbott x Cereza)

(sorry for my bad English and idk if i will make a part 2 but here)

"What is inside that big cauldron?" Asked Cereza, staring at the giant cauldron that was in the middle of the classroom. She couldn’t see what it was from a distance, but she could see that it had a shiny pink liquid inside.

It is Valentine's Day at Hogwarts and teachers were giving students thematic classes related to the day as a way to celebrate, but still teach their students.

Cereza is now in potions class and to everyone's surprise even Snape prepared a special class for that day. The room had a couple of ravenclaw and hufflepuff students from the fifth year who were whispering about what the potions themed class would be like.

"I don't know, I can't really see what's in the cauldron from here, but I have a feeling that we will know now." Whispered Rowan who sat next to Cereza staring at professor Snape.

As soon as Snape stopped next to the cauldron, all the students got silent, paying attention to the class.

"Today we are going to study Love Potions, brews which manufacture infatuation." With those words, some of the students, including Rowan and Penny who was also in that class, opened their eyes wide, realizing what is really inside that cauldron. "Love potions are strictly prohibited at hogwarts. Unfortunately, Valentine's Day inspires the most foolish wizards and witches to experiment with such potions ..."

The students noticed a certain irritation in Snape's voice as he talked about the use of this potion.

"Which brings me to what's in that cauldron. Amortentia." Snape then turned his gaze to the cauldron, some students tried to peek into the cauldron still sitting in their seats.

"I don't expect any of you to know, but does anyone know the exact description of the love potion?"

Penny, who is sitting close to Cereza and Rowan, is obviously the first to raise her hand and Snape looked at her direction .

"Yes, Miss Haywood?"

"Amortentia is one of the most powerful and dangerous potions in the wizarding world. As powerful as it is, it cannot create or imitate true love. The person under the effect of this potion would only create an unhealthy obsession with its provider. Amortentia also has a different smell for each person, according to what or who attracts them. " Penny replied confidently.

"5 points for Hufflepuff." Penny smiles proudly when she hears these words come out of Snape's mouth, even though he didn't seem very happy or proud of his student. Snape continued with the class.

"Amortentia is extremely powerful, dangerous and must be continuously administered in order for the effect to be maintained. And those who are conceived under the influence of amortentia are cursed with the inability to love."

Cereza then raises her hand with a confused look on her face, Snape notices the young hufflepuff raising her hand.

"Yes, Miss Gomez?"

"Professor Snape, if this potion is so dangerous, why are we going to study?" Asks Cereza.

"It is exactly because it is dangerous that you will study. So that you can study its appearance and keep it in your memory. That way, you may recognize and avoid drinking the potion if someone offers it to you." Said Snape answering Cereza's question.

Cereza lowers her hand, letting Snape continue his class. She shivers with the thought that someone might try to offer something so dangerous for her on Valentine's Day, she will certainly be more careful before drinking anything today.

"Now you can approach the cauldron, carefully." The students were nervous and some were shocked to hear Snape's request, but they all got up from their seats and walked towards the cauldron.

Upon reaching the cauldron, Cereza could see the appearance of the potion properly but she also noticed the smell. Penny said it is different from person to person so the fragrance for Cereza was ... good.

The first thing she could smell reminded her of her old home, it is the fragrance of the field that brought back memories of her childhood. The second one is strawberry, her favorite fruit. The third one...

Cereza frowns as she tries to identify it, it is not bad but is odd. It is straw, she doesn't know how she knew it, but the smell of straw it is the same one from the owlery and also from…

Cereza then realizes who this smell is from and she feels her face heat up, she shook her head trying to ignore the strong odor coming from the potion and also tries to hide her face and nose in her scarf to hide her pink cheeks. She remembers what Penny said about amortentia also being not only from things but it could be also from someone they are attracted to and Cereza knew exactly from who that scent was from.

It is from Talbott, Talbott spends a lot of time in the owlery so it's normal for him to have that smel. Talbott is the lonely Ravenclaw with whom Cereza managed to get close after he helped her not only to become an animagus but also with her self-confidence with her eyes. The two are now best friends for a year and are very close to each other but she admits that during this time she started to develop romantic feelings for Talbott, but she doesn't want to ruin this friendship by a feeling that Talbott may not reciprocate so she just ignores this feeling.

Cereza looks to her side and realized that Penny or Rowan weren't with her, but the devil himself: Talbott winger.

She realizes Talbott is staring at the cauldron lost in his thoughts, he is taking deep and slowly breaths seeming to be trying to recognize aroma like the rest of the class.

He looks really focused.

"I wonder what the amortentia smells like for him." She thought while staring at the ravenclaw that is beside her.

Cereza then notices that Talbott's expression changed to a surprised expression. The young man's eyes widened, his mouth was slightly open and it was possible to see that even his ears were so red that it looked like smoke was going to come out of it.

"Talbott?" Whispered Cereza trying to get the boy's attention.

Talbott let out a gasp in surprise when he hears Cereza's voice beside him and looks at her. Cereza smiles kindly at him but she notices that his breathing is getting faster, his hands are shaking a little and his face turned redder than before. Concerned, Cereza got a little closer to him.

"Talbott are ok-" Before she could finish her sentence, Talbott quickly backed away from her and bumps into Penny who was beside him that made her look in his direction and notice what was going on.

But before Penny could ask what was wrong, Talbott walked past the students who were around them quickly and ran out of the classroom. Not even Snape managed stop him.

"Talbott wait!" Cereza tries to go after him, but she is stopped by Snape who closed the door on her with a spell before she could leave.

"Leave it, Gomez." Snape said in his dry voice.

"But-"

"I said, leave it."

Cereza sighs in defeat. She looks at Penny, who is worried about Talbott and then at Rowan who is lost in this whole situation. She approached the cauldron again and continued in class, but she kept thinking about what just happened and is worried for her friend but she couldn't do anything about it until the class ended.

After class was over, Cereza went looking for Talbott with Penny's help, but they didn't find him. It was as if he was hiding from everyone or maybe just from Cereza. They didn’t even find him in the owlery which was very odd.

"Maybe the amortentia made him feel sick…?" Cereza thought to herself.

[indigobackfire]

HPHM OC Profile ✧

Phoenix Nobleworth

" You're like a poisonous flower, Phoenix. Beautiful and inviting with all your colors and aromas and deadly force. "

Full Name: Phoenix Lazar Nobleworth Silverwood

Nicknames: Pheny. Birdy (by some of his Hufflepuff friends). Nobleworth. Silverwood (by Snape out of spite).

Gender: Male.

Birthday: 12th of May, 1973.

Born: Deva, Transylvania, Romania.

Mother: Biological: Antonia Lazar, full Veela. Adoptive: Clarin (née Tramer) Silverwood.

Father: Biological: Emilian Nobleworth, Scottish, Half-Veela, Gryffindor. Adoptive: Palmer Silverwood.

Siblings: Jacob Silverwood (b. 1968), Indigo Silverwood (b. 1973).

Ethnicity: Romanian, Scottish.

Species: Veela.

Sexuality: Heterosexual.

MBTI Type: IN(TorF)P-T (I can't decide, so he's both).

Blood Status: Half-blood (I think.)

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff.

Appearance

Eyes: His eyes are a shade between green and blue with very light tones of lilac depending on the light. But due to his Veela powers he can change them into an shape or color he likes.

Hair: A light shade of golden blonde, wavy, usually grown below his chin. (At some point, he dyed a strand turquoise to impress his crush, I know, wild.)

Height: He's reasonably tall usually towering by little other boys, with long legs.

• He's got those handsome looks expected from a full Veela, structural face but round features give him a soft look. He's very strong despite his slim figure. His skin is pretty fair but he has a myriad of scars from past transformations.

• He's told he's a perfect mixture of his parents which gives him a friendly and suave look that easily turns authoritative and seductive when he uses his Veela powers of seduction.

Veela Form: Different from what's described in canon, I like to imagine Veelas having feathers that differ from people to people. Phoenix's feathers are fair golden with the inner side of his wing in shades of red, the feathers go up to the knees and elbows while hands and feet become bird-like with long black talons. His features and ears become sharper, and his teeth, fangs. His eyes turn silver-white when he turns by his will and bright yellow when forced to turn.

Transformation is hardly ever painless and he often hurts himself and takes longer to heal because of the Veela blood. Both spells and potions don't work as effectively, which is why he fights to control his temper, beyond the fact he can end up hurting somebody else.

Transformation occurs when he's either angry, instigated or when someone pulls out a string of his hair. Unless for the latter, he has partial control over his transformation/consciousness (nevertheless requiring practice and focus).

Magical Aspects

Wand: Pearwood with Veela hair core and an amber stone for stability, 14'' and flexibility. "Pearwood produces wands of splendid magical powers, which give of their best in the hands of the warm-hearted, the generous, and the wise, also among the most resilient." Veela's hair core is known to be temperamental — which is why Olivander had trouble making Phoenix's wand, having to insert molten amber to the torn wand for stability. The hair came from one shed by his mother which they used to keep stored for such use.

Patronus: Thunderbird. The Thunderbird is a large, magical avian beast native to North America. A close relative of the Phoenix. They can create storms as it flies and is highly sensitive to danger. They possess three pairs of powerful wings and have feathers that shimmer with cloud-like patterns.

Patronus memory: The day his wizard powers started presenting themselves — he stopped a sculpture from falling on his dad's head within a beat of his heart — and they had a real feast that night.

Veela Abilities: Beyond the popular ability to seduce - which really began when he turned 14 -, Veelas can also dwell and create fire from their hands in human form but requires training to control.

Boggart:

Penny (in specific because he hates to see her cry) holding his dead sister, hurt and bleeding, and hearing Penny say how could he have done that, because he's terribly afraid of losing his control and hurting Indigo.

Riddikulus: Penny tuns into Tonks and Indigo wakes up saying it was ketchup and makeup all along.

Amortentia: Regular burning candles, purple passionfruit, the smell of the house/apartment he lives in with his family, Peppermint tea, and the smell of fresh clay.

Once he gets over the fear of losing control somewhere around the end of his 4th year, his boggart in year 5 turns into Inferius versions of his parents after he learns about them in DADA, but even worse than described in the textbooks, with bugs crawling out of their mouths, a half-rotten dragon head on their lap and clothes stained with nearly black blood.

He has a hard time using Riddikulus on that one.

Miscellaneous

Pets: A Flama Squirrel (I made up from a real one), a magical squirrel that sets itself on fire when threatened, mostly predated by smaller breeds of dragons and Chimeras. The Flama's liver is commonly used in Erumpent potion with the intention of increasing its property but its lack doesn't spoil the potion, and their glands used to be common in perfumes for aphrodisiac fragrances until they started going extinct from excessive hunting.

Things he always carries with him: His wand, a chocolate bar, his favorite quill, a flask of water, and his class schedule cause he forgets them very often.

Lucky Amulets: A feather from his mom and another from his dad that he can wear on his hair and does on special occasions.

Best Friends

His sister, but as I did for her, I want to write their relationship in another post.

Aspen: Not only his cousin but also one of his best friends. Their personalities clash, her being outspoken and feral, and him being softer and more collected, yet they can't live without each other. He considers himself her protector, but from how savvy she is, it's her who ends up protecting him most times.

Boy!Rowan: His first Hufflepuff friend having met at the Hogwarts Express on their first ride. Rowan is his best friend and partner in crime. They usually spend time reading, walking open fields, and helping his sister with her plans of finding the cursed vault. Rowan supports him with tests and homework when his personal life gets overwhelming.

Chiara: They easily bond after he finds out her secret about being a werewolf, and they share support and help in times of instability. They like going out on picnics and to watch the creatures in the reserve. They actually enjoy dueling each other for fun, it's cute.

Penny: His first crush while still a boy in Hogwarts, he enjoys her company from her confidence and overall bright personality. Despite growing out of his affection for her, they're still good friends and enjoy each other's company. He offers a comforting shoulder when her relationship with her sister gets tricky.

Diego: He and Diego take a long time until they officially hit it off. Diego's personality being too grandiose and extroverted for Phoenix's taste. But as soon as he discovers that Aspen has a mad crush on him, goes out of his way to find out more about him, not trusting him to be a proper suitor for her. Despite his opinions, with time, their relationship evolves into a sincere friendship from Diego's good humor and adventurous heart.

Badeea: The one person he never thought he'd be friends with considering her intellectual (Ravenclaw-like) demeanor and collected attitude. But one day, when she gathers the courage to call him to pose for one of her paintings, he finds out she shared the exact same thoughts about him. Their friendship is quiet-like and profound, they share their thoughts about recent reads and go stargazing.

Orion: He first interacts with Orion when his sister joins the Gryffindor quidditch team and never he would've guessed how much Orion would mean to him. But with time he learns that Orion's presence is a suave and soothing one, and when he confronts Orion about how he can be that way, he decides to guide him into spiritual and mental balance. They meditate, chill and bond over shared experiences -- both being orphans, cool-headed, and deeply compassionate people.

Dormmates: It's him, Rowan, Diego, and two muggle-born boys, Lance and Edward, through which they learn a lot from the muggle world.

Academics

Favorite Classes:

History of Magic (when his friends are teaching)

Herbology

Ancient Runes*

Divination

Least Favorite:

Potions

Arithmancy

Favorite Professor: Minerva McGonagall. She's just so thoughtful and poise, the coolest animagus and the most powerful witch he knows.

Least Favorite: Snape for obvious reasons. He doesn't hate Snape but he also rather not be in his presence in potions class.

Quidditch: He cheers for Gryffindor when his sister is playing against the other houses, but his allegiance is to Hufflepuff. Imagine his excitement when Cedric Diggory joined the team and came down slaying with his abilities.

Yum,yum my Hufflepuffy boy, I love him. Can't wait to get into more detail about his past and romantic relationships.

[ahmuseme]

Amani's soft features contorted with a deep frown, her heart heavy as Dorian revealed the vial around his neck contained poison. The tragic irony of beauty concealing danger was not lost on her. "After all these years, your purpose for living still eludes you, beyond the pursuit of conquest," Amani lamented, her voice a mix of concern and disappointment as she began dipping the washcloth into the spring's waters.

As Dorian mentioned a flower, Amani furrowed her brow in confusion, tilting her head slightly in silent encouragement for him to elaborate. Her eyes widened, reflecting the dawning realization of what the warlord was alluding to. She stood in silence, her mind grappling for words as she absently let the excess water from the damp washcloth fall onto her arms, forming tiny rivulets that meandered down her skin.

The white flower of Bijou was a rare blossom with intricately delicate petals and a sweet, lingering fragrance that could only be found on the treacherous cliffsides of her homeland. It felt like it had been an eternity since she had last laid eyes on it, and the mere mention of this precious bloom sparked a rush of memories from her past, evoking a bittersweet ache.

"Impressive," Amani said simply, finally rewarding the praise she had withheld all those years ago. "My father gave that flower to my mother when he was courting her. She told me that of all the victories he had won for her and all the gifts, that flower was what won her over." She shared the memory quietly with a soft smile on her face, bringing to mind the cherished image of her parents, who had long since passed away but whose love lived on in her heart.

Amani allowed herself a brief moment to linger over the fading image of her parents, savoring their presence in her mind just a little while longer. As a wistful sigh escaped her lips, she shifted her gaze to Dorian, and with a gentle and beckoning motion, she pointed to the water in front of her, indicating where she wanted him to be. "Come here," she ordered. "I'm not armed unless you consider this cloth a weapon."

@rowan-revelry

"Poison."

He'd settled against the edge of the spring, his back against the smooth stone, arms spread along the edge. His shoulders hadn't quite fallen in relief yet, but he at least did his very best to pretend they had. The reply came matter of fact, and he raised the vial by lifting it by the chain, dangling it slightly. "If I get caught." Some men planned for their survival. Dorian had always been the kind to plan for his death. He dipped his hands into the steaming water, forming them into a cup, and letting the pendant drop. Took a moment or two to wash off the worst of the grime which Amani's careful tending to hadn't already removed. Rubbed at his neck. Finally, once he was sure he had himself under control, glanced at her. "..." It was painful, seeing her like this. It reminded him of other days. Maybe of that beach. Maybe of less troubles. And of course, of her cousins. Of a warm summer. "I got the flower." He suddenly said, unbidden, and without giving context at first. He chewed on something, looked out at the cave, at nothing, at a memory far away. "Never gave it to you. But I got it. The white one, on that cliffside." It had been a bet, not made by Amani, but by the other boys in that entourage. To jump off the cliffside, dare each other to get highest. Someone had asked Amani if she was impressed; she'd replied that she'd be more impressed if they did something worthwhile. Like getting her that flower. Everyone had laughed, it was a joke, the flower was tucked away so high and so remote that it was an impossible task. Dorian hadn't laughed. He'd stayed behind, and he'd climbed - and then he'd been a coward, in the way of boys. And then it had been to late, and the white, frail little thing had withered, still on his bedside table.

@ahmuseme

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #7

Orion Amari x MC

 Warning: mild swearing

 Word Count: ~ 2.800

______________________________________________________________ 

Chapter 7: Amortentia

“… which is why, to the unbeknownst, this potion is particularly hard to detect.”

Lizzie found it hard to follow Professor Snape’s lecture. Today’s class was about potions most commonly used for drugging unsuspecting people. Under normal circumstances, Lizzie enjoyed lessons like these, where they were getting to know some real-world applications of the things they were learning at school. She had been looking forward to this class for days.

Snape was currently explaining the effects of the contents of the golden cauldron in front of him. As if the class huddled around it wasn’t acutely aware of what this potion was meant to do. The bubbling, mother-of-pearl coloured liquid illuminated the stuffy classroom with a soft light, emitting the loveliest fragrances imaginable. Lizzie constantly had to reign her wandering mind in.

While Snape was droning on about the ingredients of Amortentia, all she could do was to dream about the distinct smell of a summer evening after a thunderstorm and the wax she used for grooming her broomstick. Another scent was hinted at in the bouquet, something fresh but also spicy and woody at the same time, a bit like incense. It reminded her of Quidditch matches, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

She nudged Rowan, who was standing next to her. “What does it smell like to you?”

Rowan tore herself away from her notes, staring dreamily into the distance. “Parchment and the library. Such a lovely smell…” Her voice trailed off, too enamoured with her daydreams to even ask about the scents Lizzie apparently loved the most.

Lizzie turned to Skye, standing on her other side. “What about you?”

But Skye wasn’t listening to her. She was staring at the cauldron intensely. Snape was explaining something about the procedure of sourcing the ingredients and Penny, attentive as always, was hanging onto his every word, diligently scribbling down the information given to her.

A soft, giddy laugh escaped Lizzie. The fumes emanating from the cauldron mixed with the heat of the many fires burning in the classroom were starting to get to her head.

“Earth calling Skye? You still with us?” She poked her into her ribcage.

“What is it, Jameson, I’m trying to concentrate here!” Annoyed with Lizzies constant prodding, she had raised her voice a little bit too much. Professor Snape fell silent, giving the two girls the most chiding stare, as the heads of their classmates spun around to face them.

“I take it, Jameson and Parkin object? Do you have anything to add?” His voice was freezing.

“No, Professor,” Lizzie and Skye replied in unison, both looking utterly embarrassed.

“Excellent.” He brusquely jerked his head to where Penny stood next to him. “Parkin, get over here and take a leaf out of Haywood’s book on how to be attentive. Jameson, one more word from you and it will cost you house points.”

He abruptly turned around and continued his monologue while Skye shuffled through the crowd towards the front of the class.

Rowan tapped Lizzie’s shoulder. “What was that about? Was she actually paying attention for once?”

Lizzie shrugged. All of her friends seemed to be out of their mind lately. “I don’t know. She has been in kind of a strange mood for some time now.”

Rowan opened her mouth to reply but Snape’s sharp voice cut her off, brimming with ice cold rage.

“Khanna, Jameson! Your memory seems rather short-lived. Five points from Hufflepuff each. Next time, it’ll be five points per word. Now, everyone pair up and examine the consistency of Amortentia one couple at a time. No shoving, no mindless chattering.” He directed his last words explicitly at Lizzie and Rowan. Rowan pushed her glasses up her nose, looking mortified for losing House points, as a prefect, nonetheless.

Lizzie apologetically shrugged at her flustered friend, not daring to utter another word as long a Snape was in such a foul mood.

Rowan and she were just lining up behind Merula and Barnaby when one hand fell on her and Rowan’s shoulder each. Tonks’s head appeared between the two of them, gently holding them back.

“If I were you, I would wait with lining up.” A mischievous smirk spread on her face. She snickered as Rowan grabbed her arm, obviously alarmed.

“Oh no, Tonks, what did you do? This might cost us even more points!”

“Relax, it’s nothing major,” she chuckled again. “I bewitched Snape’s scales while you were all gawking at the Amortentia. Watch!”

They turned their attention back to the front of the classroom. The silver scales they all used to weigh in their ingredients, were suddenly coming to life. Rattling its plates, it jumped off the table, hobbled over to one of the shelves and started swinging itself up on it.

Snape dived in to catch the rogue instrument, but it just hopped onto his head and from there onwards towards another shelve just above the guffawing mass of students. It started spinning on the spot as if it was dancing, before losing its footing on the wood, that had become slippery from the condensed fumes. It flailed about with its plates, but it was too late. It lost its balance and came crashing down on them, right into the bubbling cauldron full of Amortentia.

Penny, whose turn it had been to take a closer look, dived out of the way with a shriek. The splash sent up by the falling scales hit Skye, who had been standing right behind her, full in the face.

The scales were slowly clambering out of the cauldron, dripping with the mother-of-pearl-coloured liquid and shaking themselves like a wet dog. Snape seized his chance. He pointed his wand at the instrument, barking “Finite incantatum!” With a soft jingling, the once again lifeless scales fell back into the cauldron, sinking to the ground.

He spun around to his class, whose laughter had all but ceased. His face was storm and thunder.

“If I ever find out, who did this, I will have the miscreant clean all the cauldrons in this castle every day until after Christmas,” he snarled from behind his gritted teeth. He searched the faces of his intimidated students for any clue on the identity of the prankster. His murderous gaze rested particularly long on Tonks, who tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. His eyes narrowed on her for a moment, as if deciding whether to accuse her or not.

He turned his attention to Skye, who still stood in front of the cauldron, looking oddly pale. “Did you swallow any of it, Parkin?”

It took her a moment to answer him. “Yes, I think so,” she whispered, a vacant expression on her face.

“Well, Amortentia is not toxic. I know this might prove impossible for you, but try not to do anything stupid. If you start feeling faint, come see me at once.”

Then he barked an indignant “Class dismissed.”

Everyone hurriedly gathered up their things and shuffled out of the classroom.

 Skye had taken a detour to the dormitory to get changed before their next class. When she didn’t show up for Defence Against the Dark Arts though, Penny offered to go check on her. When it was time for lunch, she hadn’t returned either.

Rowan, Tonks and Lizzie were headed towards the Great Hall. Tonks was still basking in the success of her prank in Potions earlier, while Rowan was torn between amusement and sense of duty.

“That will show Tulip who is the one and only master prankster in this school. I set the bar high for her.” Satisfaction was dripping from her voice.

“But imagine if Snape finds out, he will deduct so many House points from Hufflepuff!” Rowan groaned.

“Come on, even you laughed at Skye’s face when the potion hit her,” Tonks teased. Rowan couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“Speaking of Skye, I wonder where she and Penny have gone to. It’s been ages since Penny went to check on her,” Lizzie wondered.  

“Maybe Skye didn’t feel well and Penny brought her to the Hospital Wing,” Rowan suggested.

A dirty grin had spread on Tonks’s face. “Or maybe they have a bit too much love potion between them and got all distracted.”

They had reached the end of the Hufflepuff table, where Orion and McNully sat in their usual places. McNully’s eyebrows perked up at Tonks’s last sentence as the girls sat down beside them.

“What did I miss? Who has drunk a love potion?”  

Lizzie waved her hand in dismissal. “Not like you think, McNully. Sorry to disappoint. Skye got hit by a wave of Amortentia this morning. Don’t ask,” she cut his questions off preliminary.

Orion looked puzzled. “Love comes to us in the strangest forms; time and place can never be predicted.”

He seemed to be completely oblivious to Rowan’s deeply blushing face. Lizzie noticed, however, trying not to let her grin gain the upper hand.

“Is Skye alright, tough?” Orion sounded concerned.

The girls exchanged glances, before shrugging simultaneously.

“We don’t know, really. She went off to get changed after Potions and we haven’t seen her since. Penny went to check on her, but she didn’t come back either,” Rowan explained.

Murphy spotted Penny approaching them. “Chances are at 98,4 % we’re going to find out in the next five minutes.”

Lizzie shuffled closer to Orion to make room for Penny to sit down beside her. Her face was pale and looked like something had seriously rattled her.

“Penny, are you alright? Is everything okay with Skye?” Lizzie asked tentatively.

She didn’t answer at once, busying herself with filling her plate. “Yes, I think so. I mean, she will be, I guess. Enjoy your meal.”

She avoided Lizzie’s questioning gaze. When Lizzie opened her mouth to question her further, she shook her head.

“Give it a rest, Lizzie. Let’s just eat in peace, alright?”

They sat in silence for a while, every one preoccupied with their food. Lizzie couldn’t fully enjoy it, though. Her mind was still circling around Skye’s absence and Penny’s odd behaviour. Something had happened between the two of them, and she very much intended to find out.

 When Skye neither showed up to any of their afternoon classes, nor the strategy meeting Orion had set for the evening, Lizzie’s resolve turned into actual worry. It was unlike Skye to miss a meeting or endanger her position on the team in such a way as skipping multiple classes in a row.

After conferring with Orion about what to do, Lizzie bundled herself up against the cold October winds and set out towards the Quidditch pitch. The light was fading fast and the clouds racing across the skies made her long for the cosy fire back at the Common Room.

She found Skye where she had expected her to be, huddled up on the Hufflepuff stands. She sat on one of the benches, hugging her knees and looking thoroughly miserable. The only time Lizzie could remember seeing her this downcast was in Lizzie’s first Quidditch season, when a stray bludger from Rath had prevented her from playing in the final match for the Cup.

Lizzie hesitated for a moment, hidden in the shadows of the wooden stairs leading down to the pitch. She wondered how to best approach her friend. Skye and she had been friends for a long time now, but not without their ups and downs. Skye was prone to shutting people out when dealing with her emotions and Lizzie wanted to take no chances.

Eventually she approached the wretched looking girl and silently sat down beside her. Were it not for the quick side glance Skye gave her, Lizzie couldn’t have even been there for all that Skye acknowledged her presence. For a few moments, neither of them spoke until Lizzie chose to break the silence.

“You missed the team meeting earlier.”

Skye shuffled uncomfortably next to her. “I know.”

“And class as well. We covered for you. Told the professors you were at the Hospital Wing because of adverse reactions to the Amortentia.”

Skye swallowed audibly. “Thanks.” She was still staring down at the pitch. The light was fading fast and the commentary box opposite to where they were sitting was almost indiscernible. The cold was creeping up from the damp wood they were sitting on. Lizzie shuddered.

“No need to thank me. You know what happens when we bunk off class. Can’t have you kicked off the team when the Ravenclaw match is so close.”

“I guess so.”

Again, they sat in silence. Lizzie was still trying to figure out how to go about this when Skye spoke up on her own accord.

“I really botched it this time, Lizzie,” she muttered. Her voice was agitated.

Lizzie pulled the sleeves of her Hufflepuff sweater over her increasingly freezing hands and turned slightly so as to better face her.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Skye buried her face in her hands. “I asked Penny on a date.”

Lizzie’s eyes went wide at that. “You did what?”    

Skye ran her hand through her dark hair in a distraught manner, her signature plait almost coming undone. Lizzie had never seen her so upset before.

“All this because of that bloody love potion! I swallowed quite a bit when those damn scales fell into the cauldron. Got me all funny in my head. When Penny came to check on me after I missed class, I was lying upside down on my bed, giggling like a little girl,” she snorted in contempt. “She was so sweet to me – she always is – and I just couldn’t hold my tongue. So I asked her out.”

With a groan at the memory, she buried her face into her hands once again.

Tentatively, Lizzie placed her hand on Skye’s arm. “What did she say?”

Skye’s head shot up again, an incredulous look on her face. “Why do you think I’ve been hiding up here? Of course she said no!” She started imitating the sorrowful tone Penny used when one of her friends was troubled. “’I’m so sorry Skye, I like you so much, but I’m not attracted to you in that way’.” She let her head drop onto her knees with a dull thump.

Lizzie didn’t know how to respond. She’d had no idea Skye had a thing for the blonde, bubbly girl. Thinking of Rowan for a second, Lizzie began severely doubting her attentiveness towards her friends’ emotions. It also explained the increasingly strange behaviour Skye had shown lately whenever Penny had been around.

“I’m so sorry, Skye,” Lizzy said softly. “I wish you had told me before. I knew Penny isn’t into girls.”

Anger flared up on Skye’s freckled face. “You’re telling me now? Thanks for keeping this small detail from me.”

Lizzie flinched. It was exactly as she had feared. When hurt, Skye had a tendency to lash out at the next best person she could deflect her anger upon, no matter if warranted or not. It was not the first time Lizzie had become the target of her emotions.

“Skye, calm down, I didn’t know you had any feelings for her.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! I just made myself a complete idiot in front of her. And it’s not like I can just avoid her or anything as we happen to share the same bloody dorm!”

Her mortification seemed to have completely turned into a burning rage she now directed at her helpless friend.

“Yes, I know, but this is not my fault. So please stop yelling at me.” Lizzie ran her hand over her hair, brushing away the rogue strands the wind had pulled out of her ponytail. This was not going the way she had imagined.

She sighed. “Who could have known Tonks pulling a prank could end in such drama?”

Skye shot up off the bench. “Tonks hexed the scales? And you knew and never thought to warn me? All this fuss needn’t have happened had you just opened you goddamn mouth!”

Lizzie’s felt her exasperation beginning to turn into anger as well. “There was nothing I could have done! Tonks only told us seconds before it happened, so get a grip,” she snapped impatiently.

“Whatever. I’m done with this.” Skye pushed past her and made for the exit. Without another word she hopped down the stairs and vanished into the darkness.

Her anger fading as quickly as it had come up, Lizzie let herself fall back onto the bench and pinched the bridge of her nose, suddenly feeling very exhausted.

This was going to be a problem.

[machineborne]

characterization meme: 1,3,4,5,10,16,20

1. On a scale of “is occasionally forced to bathe” to “Instagram model with sponsors to hoe for” how involved is your OC’s Skincare routine?

none of these losers have a skin care routine, so im just gonna ramble about cleanliness habits.

Sofi always appreciates showering after having finished with the actual shower, but it rly takes effort to work herself up to showering because she has so much hair, it takes forever to wash when she has to wash it. She is queen of shortcut products to avoid it as long as possible. Also, she loves bath bombs and bubble baths.

Garrot takes the longest baths. and showers, but preferably baths. He likes the water super hot and cozy and the room full of steam and he’ll stay easily an hour. He likes music and candles and yearns for a novelty rubber duck collection.

Rowan hates being wet, but the feeling of consistent access to a hot shower is near euphoric, so he has a contentious relationship with bathing. He hates being smelly, so its typically showers every other day as fast as he can make them and still be clean.

Nat showers sometimes twice a day bc they get so sweaty. They hate fragrances, so finding soaps is a struggle, and they still typically steal their soaps. They have stickers on their shower walls

3. What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC?

i also went with gross out

Sofi: mouth noises

Garrot: slime

Rowan: when people get all pissy about having their stuff touched

Nat: nail biting

4. What’s your OC’s response to being asked for money by a homeless person?

they are homeless people. (which is to say, depends on how much they like the dude and if they have any money.)

5. Does your OC get lost easily? What do they do when they do get lost?

Sofi wants to be good at navigation, but she’s not. If she doesn’t have a gps, she’s crap with directions; there’s always something that goes wrong. She has to retrace her steps and try again.

Garrot is super easily lost. His memory sucks, he’s easily confused, and he knows it; he is a strong proponent of the buddy system to help protect himself. If he does get lost on his own, he has no trouble approaching strangers to ask for help.

Rowan doesn’t get lost. He’s good about noting small details, building mental maps, and noting possible alt routes. If somehow he does, he circles out until he’s somewhere familiar again.

Nat isn’t easily lost either; their parkour gets them places fast, so they’re used to building that mental map quick. They’re not much perturbed when they do get lost either, they consider it a fun opportunity to explore.

10. On a scale of “Complete and Justified nervous breakdown” to “Conquer The Entire Galaxy and become an Immortal God-Emperor”, how well would your OC handle being abducted by Aliens?

Sofi would take over the ship.

Garrot would be pretty okay about it? The scariest thing for him is being separated from the group, so if he’s with them, he’s concerned but he can handle it.

Oh my god. Rowan would be the worst. They’d break out of their little containment unit and take over the entire got damn ship or crash it trying to figure out all the bitchin weird alien tech.

Nat just wants to do a full on proper cultural exchange with the aliens and would chat their ear off.

16. How strong or weak is your OC’s Impulse control? What’s the worst thing that happened because of their Impulsivity or inability to be so? 

none of these hedons are particularly well known for their impulse control. they all want and desire loudly and don’t much fear consequences.

Sofi has really weak impulse control when it comes to her temper specifically. Like, clinically (ODD). Controlling her temper is really, really hard for her. Her impulse control more generally is pretty middling; she is very confident in her ability to get most things she wants, and rightfully so. but the temper’s caused the most problems. The worst thing to happen is her ODD absolutely destroyed her relationship with her mother. Even the most mild request could incite a fight.

Garrot actually has pretty decent impulse control most of the time, potentially the best of the group, outside of his addiction. That said, he (normally) doesn’t take rejection that harshly (he always keeps his expectations very low), so generally he’ll still shoot his shot regardless of his chances. The worst thing that’s ever happened is he’s gotten kicked out of stores for getting caught stealing, nothing too terrible.

Rowan’s capable of impulse control, but generally chooses not to exercise it. When it counts, she can restrain herself, but there’s gotta be a reason, otherwise she’s taking what she wants and everything she wants to say is coming right out of her mouth, consequences be damned. The worst thing that’s happened, easily, is when she’s been shot at.

Nat is terribly impulsive, and their time with rowan only magnified that trait. Their impulse control sucks too. Part of why they’re always on the move is to make sure no consequences catch up to them. The worst thing to happen is, predictably, when they ran and lost all their friends.

20. What’s your OC smell like?  no, not that “Vanilla and Anxiety” evocative stuff, realistically.  Body odor? what have they been touching all day? When was their last shower? Did they put on any kind of artificial scent?

Sofi tends to smell mostly of her hair products. After Nat left, she never really got back into the habit of wearing perfume and remains a little sensitive to it herself, but she looooves nice smelling soap, lotions, and candles.

Garrot uses hair product pretty liberally too to maintain his curls, otherwise, he just smells of sunlight, maybe mildly of makeup or laundry.

Rowan dyes his hair frequently enough that the smell of dye sticks to him pretty often; it tends to last, with his shower habits. He can also be a lil smelly, since he’s so active.

Nat hates hates haaaates scents of any kind, but they’re super active too, so they tend to always smell a little sweaty and dusty. As mentioned earlier, they shower/rinse often enough that their body odor is never too bad.

[ofsacredseas]

the lady of seagard shifted slightly on the stone bench, the cool surface grounding her even as lucrezia's words settled over her like a balm. the air was sweet with lavender and orange blossom, their fragrance mingling with the warmth of honey and the faint tang of the sea breeze. ayca turned her gaze back to the fountain, watching the water ripple and cascade as if it could offer answers she couldn’t articulate herself.

“inshallah,” she responded softly, her voice steady despite the vulnerable edge in her words. “it’s... hard, sometimes, to remember that i can be more than all the pieces people expect me to play. to just live, as you say.” she glanced at her friend, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “though i suspect it’s easier for you to say that than it is for me to believe it.”

she exhaled deeply, her fingers brushing the folds of her cloak. “it’s strange, isn’t it? how we’re supposed to just keep moving forward. to pretend the pieces of us that got left behind during the war don’t still weigh us down.” her hand moved absently to her goblet, but she didn’t drink, letting the action linger as if it could stall the emotions threatening to spill over.

when she mentioned tirius rowan, ayca let out a short laugh, her eyes brightening despite the heaviness in her chest. “oh, i remember that,” she said, a glimmer of mischief flashing in her expression. “he deserved it, though, didn’t he? thinking he could talk circles around us because he had a few years on us. i wasn’t going to let him get away with it.” she shook her head, the memory drawing her closer to the younger version of herself, the girl who hadn’t yet known what it meant to lose so much.

lu’s words about living lingered, stirring something restless in her chest. you don’t have to figure it all out right now, lu had said. maybe she was right, but ayca couldn’t help feeling like the clock was ticking—like she was racing to find herself before the person she’d become swallowed her whole.

her lips parted hesitantly, as if testing the waters. “painting,” she murmured, the word sounding fragile on her tongue. “i still paint. sometimes. just… quietly. i never thought it was something i could show anyone.” a faint smile curved her lips, self-conscious but wistful. “it’s different now. like the brush doesn’t feel the same in my hand.”

she glanced at her friend when she mentioned gael hightower and the king, her skepticism evident in the arch of her brow. “you’d really help me with that?” Her voice carried a trace of disbelief, not in lucrezia’s offer, but in the idea of her own worthiness. still, something warm stirred beneath her defenses, the unyielding support of her oldest friend cracking through the walls she’d built.

“maybe,” ayca said after a beat, her tone softer now. “maybe it’s time to try again.” hands folded in her lap as her chest rose a fell with a deep breath. "i know i could certainly come upon some muse here, in the arbor, if you'll have me long enough find it." she teased.

∞

lucrezia’s lips curved into a small, fond smile as she leaned forward, her hands resting delicately on her knees. the soft scent of lavender and orange blossom wafted from the gardens around them, mingling with the sweetness of honeyed baklava. the arbor’s sun-dappled courtyard shimmered with a golden warmth, yet her heart felt heavy for her friend.

“habibti,” she began, her voice soft but steady, her hand resting upon her heart as though she were speaking nothing but the whole truth under the subjection of an oath. an absentminded movement of genuine earnestness. "do not be excusing yourself for talking. you haven't a clue how much i have needed this!" she reached forward to rub her friend's forearm, a genuine sense of relief in her words. "you can come as many times as you need. truly. you are welcome here." she reassured, dropping her hand.

“you’ve always been more than the roles you’ve worn. more than the titles or the expectations. you were always the one who saw the world not as it was but as it should be. even now, i see that spark in you, even if you can’t.” back when orange sunsets and red squirrels were what made her the happiest; back when three months of a year were the highlight of it all, when she would live for the hope of it all.

"i remember hearing you argue with the boys like it was yesterday. do you not remember the day you told tirius rowan to stop talking over us?" she asked, a slight twinkle in her hazel hues; back when it were ayca who did most of the arguing for them both. she had appreciated it then, wished to be like her then. it was only in the years that passed did lucrezia redwyne take some solace and comfort in who she was as a person.

her gaze drifted to the fountain, its rhythmic cascade soothing yet melancholic, a mirror to the conversation between them. she moved to “you’re right, the war stole so much from us,” she admitted, her voice faltering for a moment. “it took our innocence, our delusions. it left us questioning who we are, years later. i’ve felt it too, more than i care to admit. i'll admit to you tenfold, if it tells you that you are not wrong for thinking such things." she uttered, slipping the sandals from her soles and dipping her feet into the fountain.

what comes next, ayca asked. there was a strand of lucrezia's curled hair as she let out a small sigh, almost a huff. as though she were trying to think of some sort of philosophical response; it did not take long before a smile stretched across her lips. "you know...i think we just live, ayca." she responded, her tone and her voice juxtaposing the somberness of the conversation."for those who aren't, and for the will of those we will never be able to understand until we ask them in the next life, inshallah." it was in small moments like this that such short answers alluded to the influence a partner had on her, the ability to just sometimes accept things were the way they were.

"you don’t have to figure it all out right now. maybe what comes next isn’t about finding some grand purpose but rediscovering the small pieces of yourself—the ones that make you laugh, the ones that make you feel alive.” she paused, the sounds of her gold jewelry against her wrist softly ringing out alongside the sounds of a fountain. "have you been doing your painting recently? why do you not try to see if your work can be spread, network with other artists. i have connections within the reach should you wish, gael hightower works extensively on it. even the king."