#i mainly wanted to use the pattern that is the accent wall in some way

[tragicmoth]

threw together this VERY colorful room and i quite like it!! i now have 3 bedrooms though…

[ibims1seb]

A Life’s Gamble

The Sypher Trilogy

Tw: knife in the form of a playing card, beating, kidnapping, torture, blood, threatening to harm a loved one, kidnapping again but in a lot less serious way, a little bit of sadism,

Here is the Infopost for Tye Sypher Trilogy and Here you will get to the Masterlist :)

Chapter 0 || Prev || Next

Chapter 2

“I’m gonna ask this one last time, Silat, and you better answer me before I get bored and just decide that Cara will give me better answers.” The bastard had something of Azriel’s… Again. And the assassin has been letting him get away for a little too long for comfort.

The knife, looking like a playing card, with its sharp edges and the pattern of a 7 of Diamonds drawn on it delicately, moved between his fingers effortlessly, only stopping when the poor man he’s been tormenting for the last hour or so stirred. God, the guy looked pathetic. Even more so than last time.

“I-…” right, he had slit his throat a bit… not enough to kill him, but enough to make talking just that much more painful. He would feel bad if it wasn’t so damn satisfying to hear the fool scream.

“You?” The blond asked dryly. If this little shit said some nonsense like ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ or ‘I don’t have it’, he was gonna-

“I-I’ll… never…” immediately, a kick to the groin shut him the fuck up. He didn’t want the guy to talk unless it was gonna be something useful, and that didn’t sound like something useful.

“You really are a dumb bitch, huh? No wonder your boss dropped you off at my doorstep.” The sociopath grinned like a shark smelling a victim’s blood in the water. Did Silat know he was lying? Did the brunette know that it was him who sneaked into his house and sedated him? The slight flinch and the way he tried to turn away from his captor said that, no, he didn’t know what really happened. Tried, he couldn’t really move much…

“F-fuck… ya-…” Huh. Even while being tortured, the man couldn’t drop his stupid accent. Fucking dumb bitch.

“I’m getting what I want, no matter how stubborn you are. And if I don’t get it soon, I’m gonna drag your fiancé down here as well, see how that motivates you, dipshit.” Another kick followed, as well as a gurgling sound and some coughs, blood staining the already bloodied floor a new kind of crimson.

Azriel knew very well how much the threat of getting his beloved soon to be wife into this terrified the man, obvious by the way he flinched back even harder and looked up at him with dull, teary, almost pleading eyes. He loved those eyes. He fucking hated the man, but he loved those eyes.

“Oh, you don’t want that, do y-“ he got interrupted by the rude fucking person who used his doorbell, the annoying sound of ring ring ring echoing through the concrete walls of the lowest part of his house. “Fuckin’ great..” groaning, he glanced back at Silat, who seemed stupidly hopeful that he could scream his way out of this.

The shark grin reappeared, wider, as his captive’s eyes widened, the ball gag and scarf dangling before his face strangling any hope of escape. Again, he loved the terrified look in his eyes.

It took a few seconds of forcing the gag into the struggling bastard’s mouth, before he could tie the cloth around the lower parts of his face to make sure no noice could be loud enough to reach the person still ringing the fucking doorbell.

When Azriel was completely done, he gave Silat one last kick, a warning and not as hard as the first few, before walking up the stairs, locking the door behind himself and pushing the bookshelf in front of it. It was mainly to make sure no one would find out he even had a basement. There were no windows in his downstairs bedroom, so no one could watch him do this, too. Precautions, he said to himself. Definitely not paranoia.

“Hey! I’m coming! Calm the fuck down!” He screamed while taking his handgun and hiding it under his baggy, green shirt. Again, precautions, not paranoia!

“Now, just who do you-…”

Well, imagine the assassin’s surprise when he saw a… man… in front of his door. He had thought it was one of his neighbours who wanted something, or had something to rant about, but no. It was a… man. Tall, lean, muscular, definitely from the military. His black hair was cut very short and the only kind of clothing style the guy seemed to have was ‘uniform’. But it wasn’t the normal military stuff, those really were just normal clothes made to look like a uniform. Was he getting pranked by that bratty kid from down the street? No, that couldn’t be. He didn’t have a lot of friends and the dad was an obese office worker who liked letting his dog take a shit wherever the mutt pleased. Well, used to, Azriel took care of it…

“Can I… help you..?” He asked, slowly, unsure of what the hell was happening. It definitely wasn’t that he was uncomfortable with the situation, it just seemed… surreal.

“Mr Sypher? My name is Jonathan Star, I am from the International Safety Association, specifically the Branche from the United Kingdom, may I come inside.” That… that didn’t sound like a question. It was a statement that this man… Star… would come in. It was so he sounded polite, but there was no real need for an answer. Well, it’s not like that would stop Azriel from answering anyway!

“No.” He said, still confused, but his tone has gone a little bit more dry. More.. weary and irritated. International Safety Association. ISA. Anti terrorism and organised crime. Anti literally what he does for a living. Great.

Without giving ‘Jonathan’ even a second, he slammed the door shut right on his face, grinning to himself when the last look he saw on the rando’s face was irritation and shock. Delicious, in other words.

He was just about to push the bookshelf from the basement door when it came again. That stupid Ring Ring Ring sounding through the house. He had half a mind to just cut the electrical wiring and forget this happened, but the guy, who Azriel was sure this was, would probably just storm his house.

The next time he opened the door, there were four people, one being this Jonathan Star bastard, and the other three being fully geared up Soldiers with assault rifles trained on his legs, shoulder and… okay, the third guy didn’t seem to know what he was doing. Even better.

“I already said-“

“Azriel Sypher, or Zero? You are to come with us, struggle against this or make a scene, and we will use force. Please, put your hands up and slowly step out of the building.” The voice was calm. Too calm, what the hell was happening- wait-

“How the fuck- no, you can’t take me! You have no reason to-“ he argued, well, tried arguing, but that was hard when he was held at gun point and got metaphorically slapped in the face by the fact that this wannabe commanding officer knew his callsign.

“You are a wanted criminal, Zero. I can very well do this, and I will. Now Put. Your. Hands. Up.” Jonathan hissed through gritted teeth, taking a menacing step forward. However, even through all of this, he still seemed rather.. emotionless. Cold, for a lack of better words.

“I won’t- ugh, Hey!” He wanted to protest, but before he could continue his temper tantrum, Star rolled his eyes and simply grabbed him by the shirt, dragging him out of the threshold and shoving him towards one of his dogs, who grabbed Azriel not so gently and cuffed his wrists behind his back. Great! Just Great! This is-! Ugh, Great!

Only when he was pushed into the back of the Van, followed by two Soldiers and Star, did Sypher find his words again. Well, no, he had his words the entire time, but preferred to use them by throwing every insult and bad word he knew at his captors.

“Good, now let’s talk.” One of the Soldiers, a bit short but still definitely a good Soldier, removed her mask when Star, obviously the leader, said that. The man sat across from him and the unmasked woman took a place a few feet away from Azriel on the same side of the Van.

“As I said, my name is Jonathan ‘Nova’ Star, I am a Colonel in the New Zealand Army and the ISA. I am also the highest commanding officer in a Special Operations Task Force called The Crimson Spades. And as much as it pains me to say this, we need your help.”

Azriel choked on the air he was trying to inhale, finally looking up at the man and making eye contact. Okay, never mind, this was a dream. He was definitely dreaming, this is-

“We know that you have once worked with a man called ‘Malvik’, and we would like your expertise and knowledge about anything and everything regarding him. In return you will not be put before trail, for as long as you work with the Spades. As a Spade’s Soldier.”

The assassin had to admit, the guy was good at talking and explaining. That did absolutely nothing to stop him from almost vomiting at that name. Oh yes, he had experience with that guy, but-

“No. No, no, no! Not Malvik! I will help you with anything, but *not* Malvik! No! That-.. no!” He growled, earning an angry look from the woman next to him, as well as a slightly annoyed glance from Star. He had to admit, getting a wild card as a wanted criminal was something he’d take any time, even if h wouldn’t admit that, he did want to change, but not with that fuck! Not with Malvik.

“I… understand, partially. We will talk about this some more when we are at the base. Please, get comfortable, this is gonna be a long ride.” Azriel was almost content with that, until he remembered that he was basically kidnapped, stuffed into a Van, had no idea where they were going and…

Wait, he still had a captive in his basement… and he left the lights in the hallway on! Damn it! Nobody gave a shit about Silat, but his precious electrical bill!

—————

Thank you for reading. As I said, I’m in a very good mood for writing right now, even though that is a tiny bit declining. Still, here I have another treat for those who care to have it ;)

Please, if you want, also check out my Masterlist

[queenharumiura]

Making dragons bc why not

I remembered this from all the way in 2018, but I went to take another look and there are more options now- oho. [x]

Primary color is chocolate because it made the ear fins dark and the body a lighter brown color which I felt suited Haru with her hair color and the like. I feel most comfortable with giving her a more neutral down to earth color as a base. Some of the other brown options gave odd patterns and I wasn't having it.

Of the species, I chose Fae because it looks like it knows how to have a fun time just playing around. Agile and energetic. There is a breed called 'guardian' which by title would suit Haru-- but it's a lil--- too imposing for my tastes;;;;;; I considered Pearlcatcher because of the way it protectively holds a pearl but--- CUTE AND SMALL DRAGON IS JUSTICE!!!!!

Primary gene being Ribbon because I like the lil line it has going along the body, and also- gymnastics ribbon. It's also a reference to her using a ribbon in some verses. That's also why I chose butterfly as the secondary gene, a reference to her using butterflies in some verses.

Secondary color being blush because I thought the splash of pink is nice. Haru is often seen drawn in green/blue colors or pinks. I wanted a some brighter colors for her palette.

Tertiary gene is lace because-- she likes to make costumes or make little outfits, so 'Lace' made sense for her and it looks nice! It's the lil decorated edge on the wings. I chose 'Spring' for the lace pattern because I gotta put her namesake in here somewhere! It is a bit too bright of a color for my tastes for it to be the main body color, so I chose to use it for the wing accents.

So anyways element-wise I was going to go for 'Earth' because it offers a color closest to her eye color, but then I was like- I don't have any green elements yet to refer to her lightning element. I caved and gave her green eyes. Innocent eye type because- it was the cutest style lol and she has a pretty innocent flair to her.

Partially the reason why I wanted to go for a mainly brown color palette for her is because it's not a very eye catching color and it blends in well with trees and the earth. I like how the ear fins being a dark brown kinda make it feel like it represents her hair which is very fun.

The agile and compact design of the Fae is just really cute and just feels like Haru. Look at the smol, look at how cute. Look at how 'omg I will protecc' it is. The earfins KILL ME bc I LOVE THAT kinda design element.

I will take ANY chance I can to give a design element where you can cover your face when flustered. I saw my chance. (did I choose blush out of the many pink colors bc I find her cute when she blushes? Yes)

I think for a 'Spring' dragon, earthy colors work best. The pink adds the liveliness to her. The dash of green in the eyes is nice too. Brings attention to the eyes.

I like to think that she likes to fly around doing little aerial stunts, collecting tiny lil shiny things that catch the eye (like a bird, yes). She'll crawl into tiny crevices to sleep so she can be safe from bigger dragons.

She may be small and she may look like the sweetest lil thing there is, but if she wants to she will zap you with lightning. Definition of small but mighty. As a smol, she likes even smoller things, and will watch over them. It's not often you find something smaller than you, so she'll protecc!

Look at how long the tail is though, it coils behind her head and I like to think if she's annoyed, she'll use it like a whip and smack! When she's bored, she'll use it to anchor herself to a tree and just hang or swing around. Much like how Haru is practicing her balance on top of walls, this dragon likes to play around and practice her tail dexterity.

As a bonus:

LOOK AT THE HATCHLING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tell me that isn't cute, I'll suddenly go deaf and not hear your lies.

Tagged by: I tagged myself

Tagging: I don't tag but I can start if you want me to

[whosscruffylooking]

The Purest Things-A New Home

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

a/n: this is a repost considering it didn’t show up in any of the tags yesterday. have i mentioned how much i despise tumblr sometimes :) again, i want to give a special shoutout to @avengersbau for giving me a second set of eyes on this one.

word count: 2k

warnings: canon-typical violence and descriptions of injury.

The Purest Things Masterlist

gif is not mine! credit goes to @hqtchner

au! october 2007

Bookend: “It’s never too late to become who you want to be. I hope you live a life that you’re proud of, and if you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start over.” — F. Scott Fitzgerald

++++

"I am SSA Hotchner. Welcome to the team Agent Y/L/N," his voice reminds you of the transatlantic accents of Hollywood stars of old. The kind you used to hear in the old black and white movies you would watch as a child.

"It's an honor to be here sir," you stare directly into his brown, soulfully deep eyes.

"J.J., get us started, please," SSA Hotchner suggests.

Sitting down, you look to the screen that displays the frightful footage of bombs detonating in various locations.

"Yesterday, an 81-year-old woman was severely injured when a bomb exploded in the toilet of a women's restroom," J.J. informs.

"Interesting spot to hide a bomb," Agent Prentiss sneers.

Jennifer flips through the slides and shows another bombsight located in a subway station, "Last year a similar bomb that had been attached to a phone box detonated. No outstanding injuries were reported. However, the bombs' similar makeup alerted detectives to dig into other bombings throughout the years. They have positively identified attacks over the past twelve years as perpetrated by the same bomber."

Spencer adds, "His M.O. is similar to George Peter Metesky, better known as the Mad Bomber. He terrorized New York City over a period of 16 years. He planted bombs in theaters, subway stations, libraries, and offices. They were left in phone booths, storage lockers and restrooms."

"Do you think we are looking at a copycat?" Derek questions.

"If we are, we need to stop him soon," declared David.

"He's escalating-becoming bolder and more vicious," you say, scanning the report.

"Tell Boston we can be there by 9:30," Hotch notifies J.J...

++++

"It seems like he's a textbook paranoid schizophrenic. People suffering from this disorder may think that other people are regulating them or plotting against them. They tend to be reclusive, antisocial, and obsessed Hwith hatred for their presumed enemies," you twist a loose string from your shirt around your finger, unwind it, then repeat the process.

It's a nervous tick you developed over the years that has worn down numerous tops before achieving their intended lifespan. You glance at Agent Hotchner, seeking a sign of approval. His eyes meet yours, and he poignantly nods.

Did I say too much? No. Don’t overthink this. They can probably smell fear.

"In his letters left at the bombsights, he uses words like 'broad' and 'chick' to signify women," Dr. Reid chimes in.

"Do you think the unsub is motivated by hostility towards women? "

"It's possible," he continues, "These speech patterns age him significantly, however. Phrases such as these were mainly used in the 30's, 40's, and 50's."

Agent Hotchner begins to delegate tasks before the jet lands, "Morgan and Reid, I want you to head to the bombsights and see if you can't work out the motive. J.J. and Prentiss talk to the victim's families, determine our victimology. Y/L/N, Rossi, and I will head to the precinct and familiarize ourselves with the lay of the land and see if we can't formulate a geographical profile."

++++

At the precinct, you observe Agent Hotchner's ability to singlehandedly transition an entire police force's obligation to under his jurisdiction.

"Captain Moreno, this is SSA David Rossi and SSA Y/F/N Y/L/N," the Unit Chief introduces you.

The captain tilts his head at you, "Aren't you a little young to be in the FBI? How old are you anyway?"

You nail him with a you're-full-of-crap look. 

Everyone gets to be young once; your turn is over, old man.

Choosing to take the high road, you say, "I'd like to get my hands on the bombers handwritten notes. There has to be something in those letters that can give us a clue into the who, what, when, and where of this case."

Skeptical of your request, he narrows his eyes and looks to David and Agent Hotchner.

"You hear her," Dave exclaims, "Lead the way!"

Your enigmatic smirk no doubt gives away the great pleasure Dave's gibe brings you.

++++

"Agent Hotchner," you hand him your preliminary geographical profile. With his arms crossed, he intimidatingly peers into your research.

Don't burn a hole in my paperwork; I worked hard on that.

He is impressed by your work, taking in your comprehensive outline of proof that details the unsubs point of origin. For someone so young, your attention to detail puts even his most observant profilers to shame. "How did you come to this conclusion?"

"My family is from Chicago. When I was little, I used to read through my grandfather's old newspapers that he collected throughout the 1950's. On the jet, I knew some of the phrasings that Dr. Reid was using sounded familiar, so I cross-referenced it with some of the particular articles I remember from my childhood and found his wording to be exact iterations of the Chicago Crier."

Without taking his eyes off of the paperwork, he commends you, "Impressive use of your prior knowledge. Often, the information drilled into us through education is lackluster compared to that of real-world experience."

You turn to walk back to your makeshift desk when he calls out to you, "And Y/L/N, call me Hotch."

Your shoulders relax from the tension you hadn't even realized you'd been clinging onto, "Alright. Hotch."

++++

You immediately regretted your decision. In pursuit of the unsub, you had wandered off down an abandoned subway tunnel and cornered him.

"Harold Watts, FBI. Gently place the remote detonator on the ground," You shout. Grappling to keep your gun from slipping between your clammy palms, you grip the weapon tighter.

Ordinary people's first days of work are uneventful; they're given a series of mundane tasks at most. Me? Of course, my first day involves being secluded in a subway tunnel facing down a man decked from head to toe in explosives and wires.

"D-don't come any closer. I have my finger on the trigger! I'm not afraid to die, and I will not hesitate to take you up in flames with me," he stammers.

The stampede of footsteps, no doubt from your colleagues and half of the Boston police force, resonate through the echo chamber you're standing in. Watts spooks and loses his balance. You begin shouting for the people behind you to stand down.

"The tracks are live, one wrong step, and we all blow up. I repeat, stand down!"

Turning your attention back to Watts, you attempt to soothe his irrationality. You slowly return your gun to its holster, raising your hands up in surrender. Hotch yells something unintelligible from behind you, but your focus is on the unsub and trying to prevent any more casualties.

"Harold, let's just talk this through for a couple of minutes. My men behind me will leave us alone. It's you and me now. Before this, you never wanted to hurt yourself. You wanted to be heard. All of your life you felt like you were forced into the shadows, and you began to fester there in your pain and rage."

He tenses up; you have his attention now.

"Those girls who teased you and ripped your masculinity from you needed to be taught a lesson. But you didn't just stop there; you decided to do all women a favor and demonstrate to them the kind of pain they could cause, hoping to prevent them from making the same mistakes. In fact, you helped me to see what I can do better. I never want to make someone feel the way you did."

"Y-you learned that...f-from me?" Harold quietly sobs.

You nod, "Yes! Yes, Harold. And you can still be heard, but not if you die today. I could be your greatest advocate. If we walk out of here right now, think of how famous you could be. Harold, you will never be stuck in the shadows again."

It is crucial to your survival and your teams that you are brave just long enough to analyze the situation and keep your self-control. Panic won't do anyone any good right now.

Your mouth dries as you await Harold's next move. Suddenly, he hunches over, extending the hand gripping the detonator. Pausing for a moment to be sure he isn't making any drastic moves, you promptly hurry to his side and gently pull it from his clutch.

As the police officers and your colleagues rush to your aid, Harold looks up at you with hopeful eyes.

"Make me famous," he murmurs with a grin that churns your stomach.

Hotch ushers you away from the unsub, backing you up against the wall of the tunnel, "You actively defied my orders."

Searching every inch of his face for an accurate reading of his emotions, you are unsure of how to respond.

"I'd like to think it won't happen again," his eyes studying you just as intently.

You swallow hard, aware of the lump in your throat and take a deep breath, "You have my word, Agent Hotchner."

"Good," he affirms, eventually freeing his hold on your arm.

You let out a shaky sigh of relief and relax your spinning head against the wall.

Opening your eyes, you observe your new team tieing up all loose ends. They're safe. You are safe. Despite this first day not being as mundane as others, you wouldn't have it any other way. This feeling is what you signed up for, and it's already fulfilling you in ways you couldn't fathom before stepping inside the BAU office this morning.

++++

Aboard the jet, you tuck your legs underneath you and open up a book to read.

A cup of steaming hot coffee appears on the table in front of you.

Hotch sits across from you with a similar cup and offers you a subtle smile, "Impressive work out there today. I'm sorry your first day of work couldn't be more eventful."

A joke? I didn't take him as the joking kind.

Rolling your eyes, you put on a disappointed tone, "God...if you guys drag your feet like this every day, I might have to consider a transfer."

In a more serious nature, he asks, "How are you feeling?"

"Alright, I guess. You were right, you know, no amount of studying or lectures can truly prepare you for what it's like when you're staring into the eyes of a killer. I've learned the negotiation techniques and memorized the textbook 'put the gun down' speech, but all of that flies out the window when you're in the moment."

"You will find that improvisation at times is the key to success in this job. Just know that this team is a family. You will never face this alone or be at a loss for anything. Your career is in its infancy, but I can tell you have a long and triumphant journey ahead of you. We will do whatever we can to ensure that you are at home here and can use this team as an opportunity to refine your abilities. All I ask in return is that you work with us, not against us. You have nothing to prove. They see your resourcefulness. So do I. You are one of us now."

Some gazes are the promise of protection; his is all that and more. The words "at home" resonate in your mind. You've spent your whole life searching for a home, and here it is, its doors being opened to you. After a lifetime of running from place to place, perhaps this is where you can finally settle down.

"Get some rest," Hotch whispers to you. And with that, you lean your head against the chilled window and shut your eyes.

++++

Tag List 🏷

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[purple-goo-writes]

SnapShots: MariFlash One Shots

Snap 3: Barry Allen: Policeman by Eva Simmons

Hey, Mr. Policeman I don't want no trouble I just wanna drop my jiggelin' down to the floor Hey, Mr. Policeman Why you wanna holla at me?

I just wanna drop my jiggelin' down to the floor No arrest badman mind ya bizz No arrest badman mind ya bizz No arresta baddaman mind ya business Down to the floor (bring 'em down)

Barry felt like swearing as Medusa got away yet again! This was starting to piss the Scarlet Speedster off like nothing before! And what’s worse! 

It didn’t help that she was very distracting in another way...

Barry could have sworn he had her… like he had already captured her and yet he was hit with a sinking feeling of deja-vu as he goes to grab her only for Medusa to simply twirl out of his reach again and somehow manage to paralyze him (Again!) with that damn Venom Shot of hers! The hooded snake themed rogue driving him up the wall with how she constantly got the upper hand in their battles. It was like everytime he got the upper hand she was one step ahead of Barry, even when he was pretty sure he had surprised her… 

Wait…

It was like she always knew what he would do next and each time it was after Medusa touched the snake bracelet wrapped around her right wrist behind the stinger. She usually did that before hitting him with the large stinger (shaped like a snake fang) protruding from the wrist of her gauntlet. He wondered why only her right hand wore a gauntlet… What if it was because she needed to have her left hand free in order to touch the bracelet behind the stinger?

The Flash just may have a way to capture this rogue before she can rob another jewelry store. Though, he wondered what she was looking for given she hasn’t stolen anything, just broke in. Either way, next time he will be better prepared for him.

Luck seemed to be on his side, as Barry was once again called into another jewelry store break end. Seriously how many jewelry stores were there in Central City? The Flash was off like a shot as he raced to apprehend Medusa finally. This time the snake would not be getting away from him!

“We really need to stop meeting like this,” Flash quipped as he skidded into the Kay Jewelers on 15th Street, tsking as he saw the broken glass cases. “Seriously what are you so determined to find?” The snake turned to him, emerald lips pulling into a smirk showing off a slight hint of fang as her blue eyes glittered with mischief, “Oh the speedy mouse has come to play again?” Medusa purred whilst she slowly trailed a hand up the front of her skin tight body suit and armor, “Should I be flattered about all the attention you pay me, mousey?” 

It annoyed Barry that he was so distracted by such a simple action, though he had to admit that Medusa was very attractive. He blamed the fact that apparently he was attracted to strong and confident women, even if they were villains. The suit didn’t help matters with how it hugged and left nothing to the imagination without revealing any skin outside the lower half of her face where her hood and mask didn’t cover. It was mainly emerald and black with the black being the armored pieces and the emerald being patterned like diamondback scales, gold was sprinkled throughout the suit accenting certain areas. Barry wasn’t even sure what color her hair was due to it constantly being covered by the snake hood. 

“I wouldn’t be flattered. I’m going to bring you in this time, Medusa.” Barry snapped out before charging her, trading high speed blows with the villainess. He just needed to keep her from using the bracelet!

Unfortunately, Medusa was as dangerous as she was attractive. Case in point the number of times she has thrown him through a wall with surprising amounts of strength. Like just now as the snake managed to catch Barry by surprise long enough to grab his wrist and judo flip The Flash over her shoulder. 

Shit! He managed to zip away just in time to dodge her Venom Shot. 

Not this time! 

They continued to trade blows, with Barry having to continue to dodge the painful sting of her gauntlet. Finally, he managed to grapple her to the ground, holding her hands above her head. And trying rather hard not to think about the rather compromised position they were in. Barry felt a blush bloom on his cheeks as Medusa looked up at him with amusement, clearly not bothered that she was just captured and would be going to jail soon. 

“Now we just need to wait for the police to arrive,” Barry huffed whilst trying to ignore just what this would look like when the others arrived.  

Medusa chuckled, before arching up pressing close to Flash grinning when the superhero stiffened, “Oh, do you have me where you want me, mousey?”

Flash felt the blush staining his cheeks getting darker as Medusa pressed closer, one of her legs moving to let him settle between her thighs causing him to squeak, “Miss! This is highly inappropriate.”

“Awww, but flirting with you is half the fun of the battle,” the snake purred, loving the way Flash’s face was now as red as his suit whilst she pressed closer. Leg hooking over his hip, letting Medusa grind up against Barry causing him to squeak again, his hold on her wrists slacking some from the shock, “Besides, you are such a cute little mouse to play with.” “Why do you keep-” His words were cut off by Medusa pulling a hand out of his hold and using it to pull the startled blond down into a heated kiss. Barry groaned into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut before stiffening in pain as his whole body went stiff as a board. “Oh, little mouse, never assume you caught a snake,” She purred, easily rolling them over so that Barry was laying on his back with Medusa straddling his paralyzed form. He mentally groaned as the villainess slowly stood before striding out of the jewelry store after blowing him a kiss, “Until next time, Flash~”

[zevexsii]

i love your blog! i started playing idv recently and i'm in love with your writing! know that you have an avid supporter of your blog 🥰 and i would like to see more of Andrew’s little things because i need my boy’s stuff😔

awww! thank you nonnie!

i have some more ideas for andrew, i know this bit plays heavily on his behavior and what goes on in his head, but i think those are important things to start out with, i’m sorry if those parts are dense and/or hard to read.

misc. andrew kreiss headcanons || cut for length

andrew is... a lot to unpack (loving). he’s an asocial, anxious, coarse man, with an inferiority complex complemented by years of intense religious trauma, with a side order of mommy and (lack of?) daddy issues. 

most of his interactions with survivors and hunters alike are very tense and rocky, andrew’s emotions being an unpredictable swing between bending over backward to prove his usefulness or snapping when required to respond in an overly aggressive manner. 

considering the time range that the manor survivors are from, andrew would probably receive some disparaging comments and microaggressions due to his albinism- the manor is already an unsafe place. The expected response from its inhabitants is even more triggering for andrew’s poor self-esteem. 

any sort of friendship or half-honest relationship is incredibly rare, and will only happen by circumstance, or if you approach andrew in just the right way, even platonically. especially platonically. andrew is deeply immersed in the narrative of his own monstrosity, maintaining and constantly feeding into the belief that he is positively unlovable and any kindness shown to him is an attempt to use him or some subconscious pity response. pity is the last thing that andrew kreiss wants from people. 

not only are those infantilizing words blatantly insulting, but andrew’s inferiority complex is tipped off by nearly anything, so even kind statements can be perceived as disparaging jabs or send andrew into a guilt-ridden spiral, thinking that he’s tricked the other party into seeing him as something other than himself. 

now for a little break from the psychoanalyzing lmao

andrew is super illiterate. he was never given any formal education, though his mother did her best to teach him the basics of the alphabet before she passed away. since he worked closely with the church and the bible would’ve been one of the most readily available pieces of literature, it’s expected that he knows a plethora of bible verses, but they’re mainly memorized. 

poor guy has really bad blood circulation, so he’s cold all of the time- another reason for the cassock and patched-up coat he’s always wearing. this isn’t due to his albinism, mainly just because of how tall he is. i headcanon that he’s at least 188cm when his shoulders are hunched, which is pretty much always, and stands at a whopping 195cm when he straightens out. 

now, as for his interactions with the people he trusts the most (still, there’s barely any trust there), andrew is flaky at best. it’s not his fault; his primary defense mechanisms include obscene amounts of self-isolation and some behavior that could be low-key considered emotional manipulation; mainly unintentional guilt-tripping. in particularly overwhelming situations, andrew tends to mutter to himself about any assortment of topics, always in a low, frantic tone, whether he’s discussing his own unworthiness or cursing out someone else. 

contrasting heavily with the media he’s been exposed to, andrew curses quite a lot. he’s not super bad about it, but it’s part of his image that he has to maintain for his own perceived sense of safety. however, if you use the “lord’s” name in vain around him, you’re going to get at least an eye roll or a nasty look shot your way. andrew doesn’t go out of his way to fight or correct people he disagrees with, but he definitely finds ways to passive-aggressively make his opinions known. 

andrew quite enjoys gardening, specifically orchids and irises. back at Lutz Graveyard, he had his own little plot outside of the cemetery walls. 

i headcanon that andrew’s family is german, so, adding a german accent and the occasional foreign phrase, he’d be relatively difficult to understand if you’re not paying attention. not to mention andrew’s mumbl-y speech patterns.

andrew has a surprising sweet tooth! although, he does hold indulging himself in such activities to be a bit of a shameful activity. he favors raspberry pastries or any time of glazed item- cake doughnuts are his weakness. also a big fan of hard candies! he still has some vague memories of sharing small caramels with his mother as a young boy; hence, he keeps it as one of his nostalgic favorites. 

really likes art. he’s always been around artistic depictions of his faith, and, lacking the vocabulary to express himself otherwise, andrew picked up whatever he could and scribbled things out. small pieces of smudged paper (andrew is left-handed), ripped and torn around the edges, can be found around seldom-visited corners of the manor, scrawled over with graphite and ink.  

also tagging @rintares because of their andrew fixation /pos

[artificialqueens]

A Series Of Mutual Feelings, 1/3 (Scarjah) - Pazinae

chapter 1: i hate u (and the feelings mutual)

Chapter Summary: Ra'jah is determined to have a fresh start and be a better person, now enrolled as a first year fashion school student- but Scarlet has a way of always making her newfound plans falter. With a rocky high school history, the (not so) fortuitous pair endure some mutual hatred

A/N: enemies 2 luvers scarjah everyone xoxo meant to be a oneshot, but got a little carried away n my doc for this is currently 19 pages long ahaha so to be more palatable it will be a 4 chapter story (its says 3, but you'll see). this one is mainly the intro for the story to understand where they're at emotionally in the present, and is mostly ra'jah centric on her growth + kylie friendship fluff bc theyre the cutest, and a bit of scarlet pov. feedback super super welcome, enjoy !!! 

***

Scarlet strode down the hall with a sway in her hips, her heels clacking on the laminate floor. What kind of tacky ass bitch wears heels to school anyways? Ra'jah scoffed internally, watched the girl saunter like she's on a tightrope, each tantalizing step brought her foot exactly in front of the other. Her body fell into a rhythm, stomping the fucking campus like a lion stalking the jungle for the sheer fun of watching it’s prey scamper. Scarlet's bouncing skirt, her signature grin and luscious ginger curls sprouting out her scalp made her gag. And not in the stunning way. Just as quickly as she came she was gone, and, to be fair, she was just another girl sandwiched in the masses just getting to where she’s going. But she could pluck that arrogant little redhead bitch out of any crowd. Not a conscious choice of course, hell, being reminded of her sheer presence causes a battle of trying not to roll her eyes behind her skull. She can't help that she sees her. Not when Scarlet's lips are painted the same shade of bold crimson as the tight, sleeveless top she's wearing, like a fresh drop of blood in a sea of grey clad bodies swimming around in their hoodies.

This isn't high school anymore Ra'jah. A repetitive reminder that needs to be said evermore until it's understood at her core. Because It's different now, she knows that- it has to be. No fucking way are her dreams going to get caught up in everything again, they're too big to be put at stake. She can't live just to be like that again, and this time she's too grown to waste her time on useless people. High school was a bubble, a 4 year trance that she's left and is more than ready to forget about. 

"Hey, Ra'jah!" That southern, velvety voice could only belong to one stunning woman. She turned around to spot her speed walking to catch up. 

"Aye! Kylie!" Ra'jah stopped and gave a little wave as Kylie approached, her highlight shining even in the shitty indoor light. The two moved over to the side of the hall, and leaned against the wall. "If it isn't Miss Kylie Sonique Love," With such a pleasing name, Ra'jah doesn't think she will, or, really can ever get tired of saying the other girl's name. "What's up?"

"Nothin', just tired as fuck," It's kinda cute, the way her accent gets stronger when she's grumpy. "I'mma pass out at some point, I did not get enough sleep." Even as a grumble her voice is so soft and angelic, Ra'jah could probably fall asleep to the blonde reading true crime murder stories. 

"Goddamn, it sure as hell doesn't show!" Which is true, Kylie was as effervescent as always, any visible messy hair from under her beanie looked intentional. Even in her oversized t-shirt and shorts, there was an undeniable, captivating charm about her that made it impossible for her to look bad "You look gorgeous girl" 

"Awh, thanks honey," She smiles a soft, hazy smile. "You don't look too bad yourself." She hums, eyeing her up with a grin. Before she could even argue a response, the country girl quickly perks up and slaps her hand on Ra'jah's shoulder in excitement. "Oh also! I want your opinion- I'm thinking about dying my hair pink." She can see the visible sparkle in the pair of eyes looking at hers. "Thoughts?" She asks, voice becoming giddy "Oooh bitch! You better, that'd be so fierce!" The (mostly) purple haired girl exclaimed, delight evident in her voice "For real, you'd look so good. And you know, ba-BY" she claps her hands together just for added emphasis, "I support ALL the impulsive hair decisions".

"Yess, obviously I want input only from bad bitches with the best hair"

"I told you I did these myself right?" she asked, running her shoulder length hair through her twirling fingers. "I've been really into doing hair recently"

"Wait, really? It looks so pretty, the fade to purple is so good"

"What'd you mean 'wait really' hoe, what you implying 'bout my hair skills?" 

"Just that a talented woman like you should share your expertise!" Even when she was loud her voice was just as comforting, the tone reminiscent of a silk blanket on her skin

"All it took for me was bleach, a bottle of violet Arctic Fox dye, and the holy spirit of Brad Mondo"

"First of all I'm not trusting no mans named Brad," Ra'jah cackled a little because, yeah that's fair. "And secondly, if you're free, come an' help a girl out then!

"You're inviting me over? Wow we're moving kinda fast Kylie" 

"Oh shut up bitch" but the undying twinkle in her eye confirmed the unsaid agreement that Ra'jah would be doing Kylie's hair, at some point.

"I'm free on Thursday, can I visit then?"

"Yea that works" She smiled, and the closeness between the two wasn't something the taller girl ever planned, or really felt before. But she had it now, a friend she really cares about, and she never wanted to lose it.

"Shit what time is it?" Even in her Shitty Human era she was still a timely gal, her mother didn't raise no late hoe. "Don't stress it Raj, we have like 15 minutes. Introduction to drafting and sewing, right?"

"Yes ma'am. Wanna start going?" "Sure thing" This year is for a new start, making new friends, and getting a chance to create new first impressions. Rebrand herself y'know, and the hindrance that is Scarlet's existence, wrapped in all the ancient things she'd rather not think about, won't stop her.

The walk to class was a pleasant blur. With Kylie yawning and walking essentially shoulder to shoulder with Ra'jah had they been the same height, they slipped into both  comfortable conversation, and silence. With all the noise around them, their presence brought an ease without any awkwardness. 

 A trek opted through the outdoor route that was albeit a tad longer, provided some well needed greenery and fresh air.

"You excited for class?" Ra'jah asked, only half aware of where she was walking to. Her body was on autopilot, and Kylie knows the way, probably.  

"You're amazing if you can get excited by class"

"It's fun!"

"Only 'cause you're good at it"

"You're good at it"

"You know what I mean. Isn't this one your favorite?" 

"It's not my favorite" 

"Uh huh"

"I just like it a lot. Maybee essentially jus' cause I don't hafta try" It was a mandatory course, but Ra'jah's not complaining. Perhaps it's a little vain to enjoy something just to remind everyone you can do it, but it was an easy break from the rest of the courses. And a nice little egoboost.

"So I'm right!" 

"C'mon it's October and we're still on basic techniques"

"It's called introductory," She remarked. "Do you even pay attention half the time?"

"No but bitch neither do you"

"True" Kylie grinned in agreement.

"The way you're coming for me but it's easy for you too!" She hasn't been sewing as long as Ra'jah, but she has great taste so it really balanced out. "And let it be known that I use that class time to think about incredibly productive things"

"Oh that's her name?"

"What?" She didn't mean for her tone to drop. Didn't mean for her legs to stop walking, planting themselves into the cement. Didn't mean for the smile on her face to plummet at the implication. Her visceral reaction was louder than the cluelessness she gave off.  

"Calm down" She giggled, as if Ra'jah's reaction woke her up from her grogginess, her breathlessness equivalent to a shot of espresso for Kylie. "You just seem really occupied sometimes is what I meant"

"Me? No I'm not" She couldn't convince herself.

"Okay babe. The models of your fashion sketches just look a little reminiscent"  

"You know Scarlet isn't the only person with ginger hair right?" Ra'jah bites back, the condescending tone not her intention, but not exactly unwanted in the moment. Scarlet is insufferable, she doesn't want her own name slandered is all, being associated with the arrogant shit.

"Baby, I ain't mention Scarlet. That's all you.'' She had a shit eating smirk and maybe Ra'jah takes everything back about how nice friends are. IF there was inspiration, Scarlet is objectively nice looking so it's not a big deal there might be similarities if you squint.  

"She was implied" 

"If you want her to be"

They get inside and take a seat at one of the large tables, divided into stations with a sewing machine and some material at each one. Ra'jah takes a spot at the edge, with Kylie seated to her right. 

 On paper, it's all been planned out for Ra'jah; during her strolls between classes she'll take in all her surroundings and actively look for inspiration, pondering all the natural shapes and patterns of the world in a way she can manipulate into clothing. On paper, she'll make the most out of the introductory class, sketching designs between the minimal notes and sewing practices. On paper, she'll finish the mornings class with ease and have extra time to practice some new things. 

In reality? Paper is flimsy, especially when its accountability is held by a fleeting mind. It's hard to bask in the world when unwanted questions plague her head. Mostly revolving around a certain redhead. God, fuck her. Fuck her pretty eyes and fuck her sculpted face and fuck her euphonious voice. Does everyone who sees Ra'jah see her patheticness? How she allowed some cunt to infiltrate her mind, set up home in her head and take up all the space? Let her infect every cell in the brain like a parasite until her skull is nothing but an infiltrated shell for an infestation caught up with infatuation?

"Ra'jah, you good?"  The girl sat across from her, Trinity, piped up, and Ra'jah had to bite back a smile. The icy, timid girl she met just a few weeks ago was starting the conversation.

"Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"You just looked a little spaced out" 

"Nah, it's just that this class is a breeze an' I'm just thinking about a project for another class" 

"Mmm"

"Plus it's hard to just think of designs when there's no inspiration"

"I mean, we're supposed to practice gathering and making ruffles right now"

"Oh shit! We are?"

"Yeah girl!" Ra'jah, shaking her head at herself, finally picked up some of the fabric around her and got to work. "You'll be alright?"

"Oh don't worry about me! I'm all good"

"Okayyy if you need anything just yell" Ra'jah replied with a hum and a nod. Watching the girl running the fabric under the machine, memories of the first time they'd talked flashed, days of the nearly silent girl feeling so distant.

  "I really like your earrings" The girl raised her head, looking left and right a little as if making sure it was directed at her. 

"Thanks." She mumbled, vaguely looking at Ra'jah's direction. 

"If you don't mind, where'd you get them?"

"Uh, I thrifted it."

"Oh, cool" Ra'jah smiled, before quickly adding "Thanks". The raven haired girl didn't reply. The start of the intriguing game of 'does she hate me, is she shy, or both?' 

   After all the awkward attempts made for the quiet girl to be comfortable and maybe make a friend, a sense of pride rang through her. She met Kylie and Trinity here a mere month ago, and yeah, maybe she could be nice. She could walk the fineline of warm socialization without being annoying. The new Ra'jah doesn't do unnecessary mean quips just for the sake of a little power rush. She can be authentically her while being polite. New Ra'jah makes friends- not enemies. 

"Oh by the way" Ra'jah snapped her head up at Trinity's voice 

"Yeah, what's up?"

"I know it's a little random but do you know what you're gonna be for Halloween?"

"Huh. Well, I haven't really thought about it" Ra'jah remarked, "I just don't care for Halloween and all that"

"Really? Girl, you're not gonna do anything, dress up, go out, nothing?"

"Baby all that work and money for some costume I'll wear once? No ma'am- and the fuck will I do, I barely have ideas for school!"

"Hey, you could wear anything and it's a costume. Wear a black dress, you're a cat"

"You think I'm that basic?"

"Yeah?"

 "Fuck you" She snorted, and Trinity had a goofy smile, looking at Ra'jah with a sense of familiar fondness. "And thanks, really, but I don't care for all that spooky shit anyways"

"Damn, alright!" Teeth out and all, she laughed. The blonde on the right leaned in a little, a pleasant opposition of Trinity's hesitation is Kylie's eagerness

"Jesus Ra'jah, what did Halloween do to you?" The southern girl butts in. "You could dress as the grinch of Halloween, steal children's candy" 

"You know what, yeah, I'll be a sluttified grinch"

"You're kinda built the same already" Trinity joins with a grin

"Hey!"

"Sluttified? Are you implying the grinch isn't sexy enough?" Ra'jah choked a little at that, found herself smiling with some dopey content, at what exactly she's not sure. 

"Do ya'll think being the grinch would count as like, being a furry?" Trinity asked, voice dripping in an odd amount of seriousness. 

"What? Baby no" Kylie jumped in. "Yes! absolutely, how would it NOT?" Trinity argues, and maybe it's the easiness of everything.  Of how nice it is to just fall into banter when you let people in. Bouncing off the two girls, she doesn't need to think of how to be funny, how to one up herself, remind everyone of why she's worthy. She can just, be. And that warrants a smile. 

With Ra'jah's elbow propped on the table, she rested her cheek against her palm to face forward, before turning a little to face Trinity

"But why do ya ask Trin? About Halloween"

"Oh, kinda last minute but I just want some ideas to figure mine out" She shrugs, and Kylie leans over once more. It's a little heartwarming, how physically close she always instinctively wants to be. 

"Oh! Are you going to the Halloween party this weekend?"

"Nah parties aren't really my thing"

"Awh, but it'll be fun!"

"Yeah standing in a mass of people I won't talk to will be so fun"

"Fine- Ra'jah, are you goin'?" Rajah turns her head to follow the voices like a cat keeping up with a beam of light. 

"Uh..."

"RIGHT, forgot, Halloween's not your thing". A party where she can have a disguise, let loose and have fun. It feels almost embarrassing to admit to her newfound friends that she's never been to a party, and the thought of a Halloween party didn't even cross her mind. Maybe Halloween isn't not her thing, it's just not something she'd indulge in. For reasons. Like, schoolwork. 

"Welllllll…" Ra'jah hummed, dragging on with a small grin

"OH the prospect of partying changes things huh?" 

"You know, me an' Halloween, we complicated okay!" They laugh, but Ra'jah's left thinking. New or old Ra'jah both, spends a little too much time in the internal realm of the brain. 

The class falls silent except the murmurs of the buzzing machines, and the three chatter in whispers. Although usually it's mostly her and Kylie with occasional injections of confirmation from Trinity

"You're insane if you think spaghettini is better than fettuccine" Kylie protested "Spaghettini is literally the objective worst"

"Says who?!" Ra'jah paused sewing to look up at Kylie in defiance

"Me!"

"Trinity which is better" 

"Huh? Ya'll It's too early for this." Trinity complained.

"Oh, says the bitch who asked if the grinch was a furry" Ra'jah retorted, but Trinity brushed her off to look at Kylie "Oh wait! Also, Kylie, what're you gonna be for Halloween?" She gave a little snicker before answering 

"Don't come for me but honestly? Was thinking about being a cat" 

"AAAAAH!" Ra'jah and Trinity erupted laughing.

"But like, a hot one okay!" Ra'jah quickly tried to redeem herself.

"You'll be the hottest ass cat around" Plus, worse comes to worst, Ra'jah will be a witch or something, and they can be hot and basic together. 

When the class ended, they packed their things, and exchanged their goodbyes

"I'll see y'all around!"

"See you! Good luck on your textile project Trin" 

"Thanks!" She waved, yelling a final "Bye!" 

"Bye!" The three part, and Ra'jah makes her way to her second class. History of costume and design was next, and quickly weighing it out, she decided to take a quicker path through the halls. Suddenly, the weight of a body knocked at her side, the two stumbling around for a few seconds. A gust of papers had fallen from both parties' arms, and landed on the floor.

"Oh shit! I'm so-" Scarlet cuts herself off when she looks up at whom she's bumped into.

"Maybe watch where you're going" Ra'jah snorts out of sheer instinct, squatting down to gather her papers where Scarlet follows suit, just a little too close. The vague, sweet scent of strawberries she gives off is suffocating.

"Maybe if you weren't such a stuck up cunt taking up half the hallway I wouldn't hit you" The attention sends a masochistic jolt down her spine

"Uh oh someone's in a bad mood. Stuck up cunt that's a new one! Love the creativity. You should drop out of this school and be a writer" As much as she screamed internally to just shut the fuck up and get your things, it was so easy to slip back to this.

"Thanks but I'm good! When you fail out this year you can give it a try"

"Baby, me? Fail out?" Please don't imply that. Please don't make me doubt that I can and deserve to be here. I don't want to seek approval from others, but I can't help but be hurt at disapproval. Of course, her thoughts don't verbalize as the words that come out of her mouth. "That's a lot of talk for a girl who probably spends more hours getting fucked than studying" Before she can think it through, process the flash of hurt on her face and the way her fingers tense around the last piece of paper, before Ra'jah can really understand the weight of her own words she continues. "But I guess that's how you get yo' A's right?"

Their exchanges were in aggressive whispers, hushed to anyone above them. To most people, they'd find a sight of two girls muttering to one another while they pick up some things they've dropped.

"You're so much prettier when you're quiet" Scarlet huffed, standing up in one swift motion. Those words aren't a compliment. Like, at all. So why does Ra'jah's dumb, twisted heart stop for a second? The implied connection of herself and 'pretty' slows her body and slurs her mind until she's pushing herself up off the ground in slow motion. It's been so many months of mundanity, the small interaction felt all so familiar and foreign and exciting at the same time.But the haziness of her words and their little games makes her forget for a second of what the fuck just happened, and a wave of patheticness washed over her as she started to walk, eyes focused at the cream walls. For all her hemming and hawing, Ra'jah hasn't. Fucking. Changed. 

A rush of everything dives into her guts, a sick adrenaline coated in dread, self loathing and the slight urge to cry, nestling in her stomach like a bird claiming a branch as it's home. Her skin was electric, and she hated to admit she loved it, the thrill of interacting with her, cattiness and all. Imagine feeling this much from fucking bumping into someone? Fingers clenched, nails digging in her own palms at how much she hates her. Intense emotions are a high of their own, and Ra'jah can't help but indulge. The piercing sting of her flesh being pressed in with her nails is intensified as she listens for the faint voice of that lanky girl always accompanying Scarlet. 

"You good Scarlet?"

"Yeah, thanks" She can't look back, but she can't help but wonder- are they hugging? Holding hands? It doesn't- it shouldn't matter to her. The fun amusement pales in comparison to the misery settling in. The realization that she's fighting with Scarlet like they're 16 at the back of English class.

Of all the schools, why'd that girl have to come here? Of all the things to pursue, why the same as herself? Of all the people, why'd it have to be her? Ra'jah didn't have the audacity to explore the last question. What she means, she's not too sure. The only thing in the world she's sure of is that she can't be both New Ra'jah™ and Old Ra'jah™ to different people. The line between the two existences isn't so bold anymore, and painting over the bumps isn't as effective as she'd hoped. 

  ***

  Truth be told, watching herself move around in skirts was one of her favorite things- just about tied with watching others watch her. Maybe that's why she joined cheer in highschool. Especially with the support from (or, lack of thereof) a certain grimacing purple haired girl, a runaway model from a fashion show who wound up wandering this school. She never needed to turn and look, didn't need sight to know there's a burn at her back, nor who it's radiating from. Scarlet always walked with just a bit of a straighter back, just a bit more purpose, and just a bit more stride in her step when her favorite pair of wandering eyes were around. A small part of her always wants to turn around, catch her gaze and watch her frantically look away and pretend she's talking to someone. Or maybe she'll hold it, stare back with just as much intensity. But her wistful attention is enough of an ego boost. The scowl ridden bitch, smile washed away just for her, and yet that's where her attention lied. It made her bite back a smile. 

Scarlet is a pretty thing, and she didn't need constant confirmation to remind her that she's beautiful. She's hot, she knows it, Ra'jah knows it, and Scarlet knows that's all she is to her. A pretty thing. Whatever. She's not important. 

In fear of her brain melting, and/or being fried to a crisp, Scarlet doesn't bother having two classes back to back. Her mental capacity is full, and a nice salad will probably help with that. She's on her way to meet with Yvie for lunch, thinking about their weekend plans, when she takes a misstep and stumbles, all her weight focused in her shoulder which slams against someone else's side.

"Oh shit! I'm so-" the universe is an asshole. May the odds never be in my favor. 

"Maybe watch where you're going" Her sneer is venomous, and the universe has suddenly become just the second biggest asshole. 

"Maybe if you weren't such a stuck up cunt taking up half the hallway I wouldn't hit you" Ra'jah didn't do anything, a rational voice lectures, but she ignores it the way she's ignoring the taller girls face. Scarlet's grabbing at her papers, avoiding eye contact because that selfish pile of shit on her right takes up enough space as is, and if she looks into her eyes, sees that stupid fucking face this close she might do something bad. Like, in the sense of, punching her. Yeah, she can't look at her or she'll beat her up. Because that's a fight she'd win.  

"Uh oh someone's in a bad mood. Stuck up cunt that's a new one! Love the creativity. You should drop out of this school and be a writer" Ra'jah snides, and she needs to drop out before Scarlet gets grey hair from her. 

"Thanks but I'm good! When you fail out this year you can give it a try" Her words are about as empty as her own stomach, because she hasn't eaten since last night, and Ra'jah will quit fashion school and become a science engineer before she fails out. 

"Baby, me? Fail out?" Yeah, with the flawless outfit you're wearing that you sure as hell made just because you were bored one night. Your pants could literally be sold as a luxury brand. The girl who started sewing when she a embryo in the womb, you'll fucking fail out.  "That's a lot of talk for a girl who probably spends more hours getting fucked than studying- But I guess that's how you get yo' A's right?" Scarlet looks up, not at Ra'jah but away from the ground, and the urge to yell, hit her, and cry come up at the same time. She wants to scream, get everyone in hearing range to know that Ra'jah is a loser who will amount to nothing. She wants to reach out and choke her. But articulating her anger into words is too much, and she ends up just whispering whatever words are willing to come out as she gets up, not caring if she left any papers behind. 

"You're so much prettier when you're quiet" And that's the closest thing to honest Scarlet's said all day. 

In the distance, she sees Yvie walking towards her, so she waits until the freshly dyed green haired girl is caught up beside her. 

"You good Scarlet?" 

"Yeah, thanks" The two walk together, side by side, and Scarlet loops her arm through Yvie's, linking the pair. 

"You know, Scarlie, you should stop wearing heels before you break your ankles"

"Hey!" She giggled, slapping the taller girl's arm in response. "I never fall, people just get in my way" Yvie scoffs, unable to stop the corners of her lips turning up and giving her away, forever endeared by the shorter girl. Scarlet's affection makes her forget that they've only known each other for a month. They reach a set of blue doors, and Yvie opens it, holding it for Scarlet to come through. Her face seems puzzled 

"Are you down to go to Mika's Cafe? I want to get some coffee" 

"Sure, they have nice breakfast sandwiches and omelettes, I'm down" It's only a few minutes away from campus 

"What's on your mind"

"Just like, school stuff. I have to make a dress for creative fashion design, and I'm just thinking about it, and what I wanna do" Would it be tmi to blurt that Ra'jah is insufferable? 

"Cool," Yvie hummed, and spiteful words cycled through Scarlet's head, deciding on what exactly to say, before Yvie beats her to it, whipping her head in some seeming urgency

 "OH by the way, I know you're busy with your project and you're determined on getting in the top 5 and all," 

"Uh huh" 

"Buuuuut, there's a Halloween party this weekend, and I was gonna go with Brooke and her friends but they're not going anymore," Scarlet knows how Yvie feels about Brooke, and to be fair she's only met her a few times in passing, but how someone like Yvie could fall for someone as uptight as the boring blonde is beyond her. She doesn't dare bring up another possibility of why her dorm mate would be avoiding the stoic girl, a possibility involving a particularly hot headed latina glued to the Canadians side. "They decided clubbing downtown would be more fun or whatever," They're outside on the pavement now, and the afternoon breeze graces their skin. It's a welcome environment, and Scarlet slows down her pace to enjoy the air, with Yvie quickly matching her pace. 

"Wouldn't you rather go clubbing though? Like not with Brooke and them but with others," Scarlet is friendly and all, but she swears Yvie is somehow friends with half the school. She sure as hell can find a group to go with.

"I guess, but I want to go to the party," she quiets a little as she continues, "There are some people I want to see there, for fun and stuff"

"Mmmm!" Scarlet widens her eyes, looking at the taller girl with a knowing glare, sprinkled with a teeny bit of judgement. 

"It's kinda lame to go there alone!" 

"No it's not!" 

"Scarls, yeah it is"

"Why do you even care? Wanna impress some girls?" In response, Yvie rolled her eyes so hard Scarlet could practically feel it. 

"'Cause you want me to go to a fun Halloween party by myself? 

"Yes! You could walk up to anyone and there's like an 80% chance you already know them, and a 100% chance you'll become friends anyways" The quirky girl's charm is undeniable, she'll be fine without Scarlet. Yvie gives a defeated sigh

"Seems kinda homophobic" 

"Ugh you know what's actually homophobic? The fact that more people aren't madly in love with me. I'm LITERALLY perfect" The prospect of love feels like it's been dangled infront of her, her whole life. Imagine looking like Scarlet, and never dated before?

"You're right girl, you are" Yvie laughed her deep, hearty cackle and Scarlet wanted to melt a little. 

"Thank you, finally someone with taste" Looking at her outfit, she remembers that the tall girl's taste is kind of debatable, and Scarlet almost wants to say she takes it back

"You think Ra'jah has good taste then?" 

"What?" 

"Also a party seems like the best way to meet more people y'know?" She brushes over her last question, and it's much better that way.

"You know what, whatever 'll go with you" Scarlet agrees so she'll shut up. If she hears her roommate bring up she-who-shall-not-be-named-because-shes-a-stick-in-the-ass anymore she might lose her mind. And, she really doesn't have any other plans for the night so might as well.

 ***

AN: going to be a while for the next chapter bc im busy so here's a lil thing lol xo

***

They weren't supposed to meet here. Weren't supposed to see each other. At least, that's what Scarlet tries to tell herself.

"You are such a fucking pain, oh my god" Scarlet seethed because everything is hazy except the impassive girl standing before her and she can't think straight. Her cold eyes are apathetic and Scarlet wants to implode, like a glass thermostat engulfed in a burning heat where it's not a question of if, but an inevitable when? "Maybe I am arrogant" Her voice was coated in a sickly sweet frustration. She pushed further into Ra'jah's space, the taller girl stiffening at the ever decreasing space between the two. How can she be so still, so unreactive? This is all so amusing to her? Is she having fun, so fucking detached from everything and watching Scarlet crumble? Pretending like she cares about Scarlet past her pretty face? Enjoying her sadistic game? Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her. 

"Maybe I am narcissistic" Their faces were inches apart, and Ra'jah could feel the angry womans hot breathe on her cheek, the pungent smell of alcohol intruding her nose.

"But I'd rather be a confident, arrogant narcissist than whatever kind of sad fuck you are" 

Scarlet growled, and she wanted to breathe fire, burn Ra'jah's existence out of her mind and scream at everything she felt because of her. Except that she sees her, and wants her, wants to hurt her and touch her and without thinking her hands are digging around Ra'jah's waist.

"You are such-" Scarlet was interrupted as the other girl leaned in, framed the shorter girl's face with both her hands, and pressed her lips against Scarlets. Any thoughts or mental functionality she had were put to an abrupt stop. This wasn't supposed to happen. It's been so long, but no time has passed since they were last like this. The plug to her brain was pulled, and it's all static and her bodys done a full 180. Ra'jah's piercing lips are numbing, and her overheated body feels like it's been dunked in ice where all her nerves are all in shock. They weren't supposed to do this anymore, it's the only thing they've ever been able to agree on. She was frozen, unable to move, or think, far too busy being hyper focused on the familiar sugary lips on hers, sending waves of nostalgia through her body. Time has only heighted the intoxication. She gains some composure and surges forward, but Ra'jah's pulling away, opening her mouth to finally say something.

"You're so much prettier when you're quiet"

[ask-those-dumbasses]

Lore Post About The Gods

There are many gods in this universe, we are only going to be talking about the relevant ones. Otherwise this is gonna turn into the Greek God family tree very fast and trust me we don’t want that. So, let’s talk about some gods!

The God of Time - Avus Tempus (Grandpa Time)

General information: 

The oldest god and the god that interacts with people the most, Avus Tempus is the most well known. He is the keeper of time, making sure it passes normally with no great disturbances. He watches as time passes, but does not interfere with mortal disagreements, even if he disapproves. He says that it is not his job to interfere.

Avus is older than time itself, and is the creator of the other gods. Avus was also the creator of the first Time Demons - which he calls his children with great glee. He has been given many nicknames over the years, with the most common being “Grandpa Time.” The limits to his powers are unknown, but is it commonly known that he can control the flow of time, and can open portals to different dimensions or various periods throughout time by roaring. People also know that he, with the help of his two direct children, Moíra and Apeiro, killed the Titan of War during his rampage.

(Bonus: Grandfather clocks were named after him)

Appearance: 

Avus appears as a long serpent like dragon with no arms or legs, green scales, golden horns and eyes, with long white hair down his spine and on his chin, making a beard of sorts. Legends say that his body extends forever, able to loop around the earth. Avus himself jokes that he has not ever seen his own tail. His fur is said to be as soft as clouds, and his scales are so tough that no spear could pierce it. However, despite being immortal, Avus himself is not completely immune to the effects of time. His eyes are pale and milky, showing that with age his sight has gotten very poor. Today he would be considered almost legally blind.

Where they live:

Avus lives in a huge palace on the top of the largest mountain on Earth. The mountain is called “Mortum Manga,” and is on the “Multi Ossa” mountain range. Inside his palace are intricate carvings on the walls that tell the history of the world, from Avus’ creaton on to current day. There is also a fountain which is called the “Fountain of Youth.” Contrary to popular belief, this fountain does not make you immortal or young, but instead heals all sicknesses. It was named the Fountain of Youth because it was used to cure a large plague that was mostly killing children. 

Along the side of the mountain is a small village called “The Village Of Lights.“ These people often interact with Avus directly. In fact, every 5 years they hold a festival where they light various sky lanterns and send them into the sky. Afterwards, Avus comes down to the village and talks to them. He specifically likes to meet with all of the children - who he likes to call his grandkids. 

Personality: 

He is an extremely friendly and passive god, often inviting people to come and have tea with him in his palace. Overall, Avus is very polite and is more than willing to shelter anyone if they ask. However that is difficult for most - since not only does he live atop the highest mountain, he also does look very intimidating. In reality he just wants to talk about how your day has been going. Avus is most certainly the kindest god that mortals can talk to. 

He tries his best to keep up with new terms, words, controversial topics, etc. Because of his old age it can be hard for him to keep up. He ends up coming across as that overly supportive and sweet grandparent that doesn't understand but is trying to. (Ex: “Are you a boy or a girl? I cannot tell. My vision isn’t what it used to be. Oh wait - are you one of those non-berries? Not binaries? So sorry I don’t remember.”). Because of his age he is also considered very knowledgeable and wise, and people will sometimes come to him or pray to him for advice and counsel. 

Avus is mostly considered to be extremely patient and calm, however there have been reports of him being fiercely protective of his “little village.” Those who have dared to harm those living or seeking refuge there have mysteriously ended up turned to stone. 

The God of Life, Death, and Fate - Apeiro

General Information:

Apeiro is the god of life and death, which means it’s their job to make sure life is balanced. Apeiro can keep populations down through plagues, famine, natural disasters, or other means. Aperio can also bless certain times with good crops, more births, or other means to make sure populations stay up if need be. It is important to remember that Aperio’s job is NOT to make life/death fair.  Apeiro also makes sure that spirits end up in their proper afterlife. Apeiro can also tug on the strings of fate, not manipulating them completely, but pushing them where they want it to go.

They stand against large acts of necromancy, however, they made a deal with Alita long ago. In this deal, Totems Of Undying were allowed to be created and sealed deep inside Jungle Temples. It is unknown exactly what Apeiro got in exchange for allowing this to happen but people have speculated that it has something to do with the existence of Wither Skeletons, which guard Nether Fortresses, and Withers, which can be made with a combination of three Wither Skulls and Soul Sand. 

Apeiro also assisted Avus and Moíra in taking down the Titan of War. 

Appearance:

They have a dark gray cloak/robe that wraps around them and flows dramatically to the floor. It drifts behind them, rippling and waving like there’s constantly a breeze. At the edges of the cloak there are dozens of tiny white stars. They don’t have a face, just a black shadow that flickers around the edges when you look directly at it (which is something you should never do). They do have hands that look like skeleton talons that float separately from their body since they do not have arms. They also have horns that used to merge as a sort of crown above their head. Now, from previous battles, those horns have been splintered and broken in two.

Where they live: 

Apeiro lives inside a castle, which has the foundation of the skeleton of an ancient colossal dragon. They live with their younger sister, Moíra. Apeiro specifically lives in the head - which has been remade into a massive throne room mixed with a fancy ballroom. The neck leading up to this room is a very long hallway that has many statues of many different people. These people are referred to as “Champions,” and they are previous winners of the Champion’s Cup. 

This skeleton castle is called the “Fossa Palace” and it can be found in the middle of the “Decaying Wastelands” desert. It is unknown what killed the colossal dragon, but rumors have spread that Aperio did it themselves and decided to make it their home. Regardless, when the wind blows in the cold of night, people say they can still hear soft roars and hums of the dead dragon. 

Other than living with Moíra, Apeiro lives completely alone and does not normally travel outside of their castle. They only do so in big emergencies such as universal threats or large acts of necromancy. 

Personality: 

Apeiro is very dramatic and adores big and grand theatrics. The Champions Cup itself was created out of boredom since messing with mortal lives from the sidelines can only entertain a god for so long. Speaking of which, Apeiro finds great entertainment in watching mortal lives, and loves to play with them. Whether this is good playing or bad playing, depends on their mood. Apeiro finds it amusing to poke and prod at people’s lives from time to time, and is considered a being of madness from a few of their victims. Apeiro laughs as a witness to human wars, and sees all mortal conflict as beneath them. They will sometimes even find glee in watching other gods squabble over petty things. 

The Goddess of Karma, Justice, and Fortune - Moíra

General Information:

Moíra is the goddess of karma, justice, and fortune. This means she mainly watches over humanity and tries to keep people’s lives fair, even, and balanced. She gets very angered when there are big atrocities happening in the world, or even just when excessively unfair things happen to good or bad people. She is often the judge and jury and innacts justice as she sees fit. Moíra is a very patient force as well, and ensures that eventually, in one way or another, that good things happen to good people and bad things happen to bad people. karma is a patient force. 

She also blesses those she sees fit with various fortunes (whether this be money, something more spiritual, or something emotional will depend), or will take away from those who have committed horrendous crimes, 

Moíra also helped Avus and Apeiro kill the titan of war, and was the main one leading the charge against him. 

Appearance:

Moíra wears an extravagant white robe with golden patterns of leaves as an accent. She appears as a youthful human woman with dark skin and curly hair, but is very unnerving to look at. Her eyes are pure gold, dripping liquid gold down her cheeks. She has large curling goat horns which are decorated with various gems. Moíra also wears a laurel headpiece as a crown, with a bright red ruby in the center. She constantly floats just above the ground in order to keep herself clean. 

Where they live: 

Moíra lives inside a castle, which has the foundation of the skeleton of an ancient colossal dragon. She lives with her older sibling, Aperio. Moíra specifically lives near the top of the rib cage - which has been remade into a large fighting stadium. This stadium is where a tournament called the “Champion’s Cup” is held once a decade. There is an observatory hanging from the top of the dome ceiling, this is where Moíra resides. However she can also commonly be found with Aperio, or in the castle's library. Moíra does travel outside the castle for business purposes and works with people a lot.  

Personality: 

Moíra is much more careful about keeping balance then Apeiro is, and is much more responsible with her powers. Moíra also tends to scold her older sibling very often and is not very trusting of them. People think that the only reason Moíra lives with Apeiro is because she wants to keep a close eye on them.

By and large, Moíra is a very patient and slow god. She takes her time and thinks her actions through for a long time before acting. She thinks, a lot, and makes very calculated decisions like some sort of gamemaster. Moíra is willing to play the long game and waits for the pieces to fall into place so she can enact her plan properly. 

Moíra is also very vengeful, and remembers all of the little wrongdoings people have done. However she is very fair with her punishments, at least, she sees what she has done as fair. 

The Goddess of The End and the Keeper of The Void - The Enderdragon 

General Information 

History says that long ago there were Colossal Dragons; dragons that were born small and slowly grew throughout their lives until they were bigger than mountains. They have largely gone extinct because food became scarce and they were unable to eat enough to maintain their size. Some of their skeletons can still be seen to this day.

People know whispers of an old tale, about a dragon larger than mountains who rules The End as queen, and controls the Endermen as slaves to her will. That long ago she attempted to wipe out all life on this planet, but failed due to an intervention from Moíra, along with Avus who both banished her away from the Overworld. They say that one day, The Enderdragon will return, and have her revenge on everyone who dared forget her name. 

The majority of people don’t even believe she’s real, and some have never even heard of her. Most people believe The Enderdraon is a made-up myth tale that was made by man to explain the unknown creation of Endermen. Some people see The Enderdragon as a sort of boogeyman figure, a tale Dragon Riders will tell their children to get them to behave; Others believe she’s just some rumor made to prevent people from exploring The Stronghold. The only thing people know for certain, is that people who have dared to enter The End have either been never seen again, or come back with horrifying stories and with their children being cursed and becoming Endermen hybrids.

Appearance:

In stories she is illustrated as a large black dragon, bigger than mountains, with large grey horns and wings. The wings are usually torn, along with many scars from various battles decorating her body. The most prominent feature is her bright purple eyes. It is said that she breathes hot purple fire. 

Where they live:

In the End, one of the many different dimensions in this universe. It is mostly illustrated as many floating islands made of pale yellow sand. There are various crumbling purple buildings, along with purple plants that grow an odd fruit with teleportation abilities called “chorus fruit.” Endermen in the overworld are sometimes seen holding these. In the center of these islands are 10 tall obsidian pillars- each with an odd crystal that contains healing abilities, but only for The Enderdragon. 

Underneath the islands of the end is an endless void of darkness. It is unknown what could possibly be down there. Those who have tried to find out have never returned. 

Personality: 

In the legends, The Enderdragon is painted as an angry, vindictive, and spiteful dragon who wants nothing more than to watch humanity burn.

The Goddess of Magic - Alita 

General Information:

Alita is the keeper of all the different types of magic. There is Protection Magic, Elemental Magic, Combat Magic, Enchantments, and Necromancy. Alita is the higher power that can control all of these types of magic over others, and because of this is considered very dangerous. She can grant magic to people if they sacrifice something of great value. If she gives you magic then your spells will always appear as pure black.

Alita can also freely travel through the different dimensions - The Overworld, The Nether, and The End. She also creates permanent portals that are scattered all throughout the world. One of these portals is The Stronghold - which is a permanent portal to The End. It is unknown where others may be.

Alita is also the mother to all Kitsune, each born under a different type of magic. Kitsune are made to help Alita watch over the Overworld since she lives deep underground in The Nether. However, it is not uncommon for Kitsune to diverge from this purpose and instead do their own thing. Alita does not see a problem with this, since not only can she freely make new ones, but if she really needs to she can force her will onto the Kitsune that rebel against her wishes. 

Appearance:

Alita appears to be wearing an elegant masquerade mask that looks like a peacock. You can barely see one white eye and a small beak peeking out from the mask. Nobody, except for a few other gods, knows what she looks like under the mask. Anyone who has seen does not remember. Alita generally appears to be avian-like, being part Peacock. She has peacock tail feathers that fan up whenever she gets angry. However, the eyes seem a little too real, and people have reported getting headaches from looking at them for too long. Over her body is a beautiful silk purple dress with silver accents on the ends. She also wears many different rings and necklaces that have been given to her. 

Floating around her are five multichromatic flaming orbs that flash different colors. Each one stands for a different type of magic. Protection magic is represented by an icy blue, Elemental Magic flashes between red, dark blue, and light green depending on the element, Combat Magic is represented by royal purple, Enchantments is represented by orange, and Necromancy is represented by a dark green.

Where they live: 

Alita lives very deep underground in the nether, in the darkest caves surrounded by bubbling lava. Various bones decorate the entrance to her cave and she has a massive throne made of gold.  

Personality: 

Alita is described as the cruelest of the gods. While Aperio may mess with fate, that is their job and they ultimately keep some semblance of balance. Alita will play games with the mortals who dare to visit her simply for the fun of it. She is very playful and likes to toy with people, forcing them to make extremely difficult decisions and pay the price for their hubris. 

Alita can be won over with attention and praise however. She adores it when people grovel and give her positive attention just for a silly favor. While she may not often go out into the world, Alita is always open to visitors of any kind. After all, the visitors are often very entertaining. 

The Titan of War, also known as The Blood God - Sanguineous 

General Information:

Not much is known about the Blood God. He has mostly been lost to ancient legend. They say he was an old titan that became more powerful the more he killed. So, he became power hungry and so full of bloodlust that he attempted to wipe out all life on Earth. Because of this, he was killed by Moíra, Avus and Apeiro. His name is only known from old tapestries and ancient texts; Sanguineous.

Some say that he is not dead, but is simply resting for the right time to strike again. Some say his bones are what made the Multi Ossa mountain range. Some say that his presence can still be felt to this day. Some people do know that those who have been touched by his presence have pure red eyes. Other rumours tell of pockets of underground lakes that still hold the old Titan’s own blood. There are whispers that those pockets hold unimaginable power, if only someone could find and harness them. 

Appearance:

Old paintings and tapestries depict the Blood God as a creature made purely of bone - but only an upper body up. His chest is shown to be a human skeleton, with the hands mutated into large claws. His head, however, is depicted as a large ram skull, with humongus black horns and glowing red eyes. Sometimes, he is depicted holding a large netherite axe which he attempted to split the earth with.

Where they live: 

Since the Blood God is dead, he does not live anywhere. When he was alive he did not live in any particular place. He simply wandered the Overworld.

Personality: 

The only thing known is that he wanted nothing but for blood to be spilt from each end of the earth. 

[idrewbedraggledbreaths]

Sorting Eve Polastri and Villanelle using the Sortinghatchats system

So, I had been thinking that I for once didn’t have a hyperfixation but nope, I do. It’s the personality system developed by @sortinghatchats, which is based on the 4 Harry Potter houses, but instead of simplistic, reductionist stereotypes, this system goes deep into you and sorts you in two houses: primary and secondary. Your primary is your WHY, your reason to view the world or life your life and your secondary is your HOW, how you approach life’s problems and issues. I will be using @wisteria-lodge’s terminology because it’s pretty neat, but you don’t need much to connect the names to the houses.

Here’s a tl;dr of what each of the primaries and secondaries are: 

Lion primaries are intuitive and guided by their moral compass, which is very strong (doesn’t mean what they believe in is in fact good or correct) and Lion secondaries are the people who charge straight at something, regardless of whether they will come out of it unscathed or not. 

Snake (hey look, that’s me!) primaries value people. Not any person, their people. They will go to hell and earth for their people to be safe and happy, which can get kind of self destructive. Snake secondaries improvise much like Lion secondaries, but they tend to adapt to situation and shapeshift their way out of problems. 

Bird (also me!) primaries also value right and wrong like Lion primaries, but they build their systems with external information and observation, not from their gut feelings. That means Bird primaries change a lot with time, because their ‘rights’ and ‘wrongs’ change. Bird secondaries collect. Skills, tools, random knowledge, they delve deep and acquire as much of them as they can, not because things are useful, but because it’s fun. 

Finally, Badger primaries are also people-persons, but their communities are much broader than a Snake primary’s. They value people, tradition, cultures and so (but not every Badger sees everyone as people, so there’s that). Badger secondaries are the hardworking types in the sense that they cultivate things, they invest in them and even become them.

You can develop models of each house according to what you find useful or what society has instilled in you, but when push come to shove, the models aren’t the real you. All of these houses can burn, meaning their essence is somehow scared away from them due to trauma, depression, societal pressures, etc. That means a Lion stops trusting their instincts, a Snake no longer feels like they’re able to protect their people or their people are better off without them (been there done that don’t recommend), a Bird loses faith in their systems and a Badger closes themselves off from their communities and adopts a smaller circle of people. Burnt houses can look a lot like each other, but I can’t really explain. i suggest you go to @paint-the-ravenclaw or @wisteria-lodge for more info. 

Ok, here we go: 

Villanelle

Oh boy, V is one hell of a Bird secondary. It’s just so loud. Her Snake primary is pretty obvious to me as well, but her Bird stands out because it’s odd. She is a great planner ad really thrives off of planning. Her spectacular kills in s1-s2 are almost always planned inch by inch. She has collected a wide and very impressive variety of skills she uses to complete her missions, from disguising herself to faking accents to disembowelling men. You could argue that she has some Snake model built into her because she does adapt to some degree, but whenever she cannot plan at all and has to improvise, her mask ends up slipping. Think ‘the hole’, the doll guy, killing the Romanian guy in s3. When she and her recruit are assigned the mission to kill the guy at the birthday party, she loses her shit when he doesn’t follow plans. Homegirl is a planner all the way, but at the same time it feels like she doesn’t give two fucks about the consequences of her plans, as long as she gets the job done. Sometimes she is a bird of prey, all precision and carefulness, and sometimes she is a...birb. happy go lucky birb with her clothes and her shoes and her Eve and the things she likes (mainly Eve, though). To me, that’s because of her Snake primary. 

Villanelle values herself more than whatever Konstantin is trying to do, so she is self indulgent. You can clearly see that alongside that, she is desperately trying to belong somewhere, to choose someone who also chooses her. That’s where most of her conflict with Konstantin comes from: she has chosen him but he hasn’t chosen her. Same thing for her family: she is deeply wounded by the fact that the people she initially chose haven’t chosen her, but that’s why she kills her mother and the husband and not her younger brothers: they are her people still. You could say her primary is somewhat burned with the way she had to protect herself from choosing people due to how they have treated her, but it then unburns when she meets her one true person, Eve. She will do anything to get Eve’s attention, including, uh... murdering her best friend. She chooses to go back to Eve in Rome and shoots Eve because her reaction to V sort of revealing she forced Eve to kill Raymond reads as ‘I chose you and tried to show you my way but you denied me so now I’m MAD *angry emoji*’ but she’s not really mad. She’s still thinking about Eve, she’s still hurting because of Eve. To me, she is in a constant state of burning and unburning and I really want to see where s4 leads her.

Eve

Eve is a bit harder or me, mostly because her character was relegated to a supporting role even though she is the title character and should get more development but I think I got a decent shot at her. If Villanelle is a planner who can improvise, Eve is an improviser who can plan (if not plan, at least collect diverse information and skillsets). To me, she is a very loud Lion secondary who throws herself at things and challenges. Think about how she reacts in the bus scene, how she takes that axe and murders Raymond, how she follows V and Bill into the club almost madly. She isn’t really planning anything, she’s just charging. Niko wants plans and stability and a future, but Eve doesn’t, she likes the unknown, the thrill of the chase, the ‘headbutting a wall until you either break it or break you skull.’ I think she has a Bird secondary model, though. She is very knowledgeable (a little too knowledgeable) when it comes to serial killers, she can pick up on patterns and clues very quickly and she can eventually prepare herself before charging, namely in the flat scene in s1. Eve thrashes V’s flat in impulsive Lion fashion, but she remembers to take the gun and the knife in case things turn sour, which means she had planed ahead. The plan turns out to be... a complete failure. If Eve was a true Bird, she would not stab Villanelle the way she did, she would have waited and evaluated. Her reaction is to immediately regret what she’s done because she knows she’s fucked up massively, and that reaction is something I’ve seen on some Lion friends, bless their hearts. She is blunt, earnest and often says the hilarious but slightly inappropriate thing and that’s very Lion to me.

As for Eve’s primary, from the very beginning it seemed to me like she was trying very hard to be a double Lion but... she’s not. She’s a Snake like V, with a Lion model she is definitely not comfortable with. It does look like she sometimes is acting on something because it is the right thing, but the way she obsesses over V makes her shed her previous morals away. She gets distressed when her team focuses on the Ghost more than Villanelle, she gets jealous of V, she leaves Hugo to die so that she can get to Villanelle. It’s clear she tries to hold on to her normal life with a husband, a job and a chicken but in the end she kind of accepts she was never meant to ave any of those things, and that’s why she turns at the bridge. Because Villanelle is Eve’s person, and Eve’s person comes first.

So, for me Villaneve are a couple of Snake primaries, with Eve trying to hide hers with a ‘society-approved’ Lion model that slips away under V’s strong Snake primary. So gay.

 I could go into more detail on my sortings, but i’s late as hell and I’m tired. I might try to sort other characters later, specially Carolyn. I’m struggling with her right now. Anyway,this is just my take on these characters using a system I love.

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Where Time Takes Us

Hey all! I’m almost done with Chapter One of a fic I’m working on, so in the mean time, why not have a quick teaser?

Eventually I’m gonna also post the full thing on AO3 so the format is better, and it’s also gonna have zelink and some revali stuff in the future...although I’m mainly gonna focus on character growth and arcs than the romance. All in all, when I’m done you’ll have to read it for yourself. In the mean time..

Enjoy!

Where Time Takes Us 6905 words (of like...15k it’s a teaser ok)

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

Watch the home while she is off to war

The Slumber King versus the rearing boar

Awake, arise, do not be blind

To tales and destinies entwined

In the world we said that we would leave behind

- - - - - - - - - - 

6 months, 3 weeks, and 3 days before the Hyrule Castle Slaughter, the Akkala Citadel Massacre, the slaying of the Champions, the death of the hero, and the rise of Calamity Ganon

She was supposed to work until whenever doomsday struck, and truly she wanted to, but circumstances led her to walk towards the echoing laughter.

Already trying to prepare the quip she would throw back at them (as undoubtedly they’d complain about her being late again) the researcher weaved through the familiar roads of West Castle Town. Most of the houses were dark, with the only light source coming from the occasional flickering lantern, and the pale complexion of the midnight moon. Needless to say, it made the warm glow of The Adequate’s Tavern stand out all the more as she approached. 

Another roar of laughter and shouts escaped from an open window on the south side of the pub. The bags under her eyes curved with her smile as she recognized one of the voices. She absentmindedly traced her fingers along the outer walls of the tavern as she walked, loose chips of faded blue paint falling to the pavement below. The wooden sign above the door creaked with its askew weight. “The Adequate’s Tavern” was printed in bold, blue letters atop a faded yellow outline. The missing e’s and t’s gave evidence to the building’s true quality. 

Pushing open the door, the researcher was met with a swirl of familiar scents, ranging from alcohol, apples, bread, and leather, along with a smokiness coming from the fireplace near the back of the bar. 

Closing the door behind her, she walked through the entrance, passing under a wooden overhang, and alongside a long, stone-slated bar counter. She overheard a conversation between the barkeep and a waiter.

“Yes, they’re here again, so get out there already!”

“The scientists?” the waiter asked.

The man started shoving her towards the storage door behind the bar. “Yes, yes, now hurry up and stock up on that apple cider. I’ve already turned four full pitchers from the three of them, and the fourth is no doubt on the way. We can turn a bigger profit from those kids than any random alcoholic that stumbles in here tonight!”

The waiter disappeared into the back and the barkeep was left muttering by the counter. Chuckling to herself, the researcher moved away, starting to search for the scientists in question. Other than a single, beige wall that separated the edge of the bar with a support beam in the middle of the room, the pub was very open and lively. Square and circular tables were littered across the floor in mismatched patterns, ranging from oak brown to birch white. Clearly, aesthetic was not the centerpoint of the place. 

She walked about the pub, scanning the faces of the men and women alike who crowded by the booths and tables. The tavern mainly housed a sea of Hylians, who let out the occasional drunken laugh, or hearty chuckle. It was a miracle she could hear her thoughts at all, as the air was rich with the sound of clattering dishware and the patter of dancing feet, as in a small corner to the left was a semi-circle stage housing a small band. A Hylian man with umber dark skin, much like her own, blew away at a Lurelin-made, seashell harmonica. To his left, a blonde woman extended her arm in quick and elegant strokes with a bow and fiddle. Two others struck away on small drums and bells, and the playful gig they performed had gotten several people up from their feet to dance for Hylia knows how long. The music wasn’t terrible, but she had heard better, from a certain Sheikah in particular...

As if fate had read her thoughts, she finally caught sight of her friends.

It hindsight, it was easy enough to expect the bard to be at the table closest to the stage. Yet, it was probably the three heads of cloud white, Sheikah hair that gave them away the quickest. A young teenage boy sat across a square table from two other Sheikah, a boy and a girl. He was looking at nothing in particular, as he plucked away at his lute, presumably tuning it. Wrapped around his head was a small cluster of green wooden beads, woven with brown string. They dotted like a line of stars in his fluffy, white hair, alternating between pine and sage shades. The knot tying the strings and beads around his head hung loosely like vines just by his right ear. He was just asking to look like a starstruck, homeless traveler, if it weren’t for the bright red cape pinned across his shoulders. The golden, Hyrulean emblem holding the crimson cloth together signified his status as an important worker of the palace. Although, no one would be surprised that this thin, skinny teenager was a bard and court poet, and not a royal knight. 

Suddenly, the bard looked up and met her gaze, a pair of warm, red eyes catching the light of familiarity. He patted the empty seat next to him and said something to the other two Sheikah in front of him. One of them looked back, a young man with storm wild hair that seemed to part like lightning. He had a beige, long sleeve coat over a red tunic, as was the classic Sheikah style. However, the style of his white jacket told of his rank as a scientist. With chocolate eyes and a contagious grin, he nudged the girl next to him and fake coughed.

The young woman wore roughly the same outfit, although she had a navy blue skirt and boots compared to the other guy’s black pants and shoes. Her eyes were also red, albeit, with a more striking scarlet color, compared to the other boy’s warmer wine shade. Looking back, she adjusted her bright, Sheikah red, round, sparkly, diamond decorated glasses, complete with white accents that matched her hair. It was pulled in a messy bun, a hairstyle that her close friends knew was less for looks, and more for practical purposes, as supposedly “the stupid strands always find ways to bother my eyes. No, stop, I don’t need a comb! My eyeballs are just sensitive, OK?”

Pivoting past a waiter, the researcher finally moved closer to the trio, brushing her curly dark hair above her shoulders as she prepared for the sarcasm to begin.

The stormy eyed scientist spoke first.

“Purah, Purah! Is that...a ghost I see? It looks like Adello, but I feel like I haven’t seen her in a century, I surely thought her dead! Am I being…haunted?”

Purah turned in her seat and gave a fake gasp. She adjusted her red rimmed glasses at the sight of her. “You’re right, Robbie! I’ve heard about these spirits. They only come at midnight under a full moon, and they appear when you have friends that don’t know how to time manage and haunt you by coming to your birthday party with their terrible fashion sense 45 minutes late!” She clapped her hands along with the syllables of “45 minutes” to let her point be known.

Robbie awed at Adello in sarcastic wonder, and the boy across from him exhaled out of his nose with a smile. 

Adello put a hand on her hip. “Save your breath, I was just working a bit overtime on the Divine Beast sketches. You know, work? For the jobs that we all have? So we can pay our taxes and shit? Unfortunately, not all of us have fancy salaries Mrs. Royal Scientist.”  

Purah turned to Robbie, pulling down her glasses and looking at him sternly. “See, this is another trait of these kinds of spirits. They’re cursed to only say excuses for eternity.”

He shook his head. “Coupled with the fact that their fashion only ever consists of one color? Truly, a terrible fate for a ghost indeed.”

Adello narrowed her eyes. Smoothing out her juniper colored tunic, she said, “Ok first off, green is a great color on me, it pairs well with my skin tone. You’re both just blind, no wonder you need glasses.” Purah put a hand on her chest dramatically, but she continued. “Plus, I’d really rather not get fired since that ceremony thing with those Champions is tomorrow and, as you all know, I just got that promotion.”

The researcher propped a black leather boot up on the empty chair by the table, flipping her jet black hair dramatically. “How does it feel to be in the presence of someone with an actual on-the-field career?”

Purah stuck out her tongue, and Robbie cupped his hands and booed. However, the boy sitting on the other side of the fourseated table gave a celebratory strum of his lute, giving Adello’s pose a bright background flourish with a few upbeat chords.

She winked. “Thank you Zimiri, at least someone can recognize skill.” The bard gave a little bow with his head, grinning. “A few chords is all it takes to enhance a dramatic, late night entrance.”

Adello chuckled, finally sitting down in the empty seat beside him. The old oaken chair and floor creaked under the new weight. Robbie let out a huff.

“You kids need to learn to respect your elders.” He announced the word “respect” with the tip of his tongue. The researcher rolled her eyes. 

“Ah yes, a whole one year gap between us. What astounding age and experience that these elders emit.” She gestured at Robbie and Purah with a sweep of her arm. 

“Uh excuse me, but I believe in my case it’s now double that. A whole two years, my dear, naive child. For as of 4 hours ago, I now emit the knowledge of an existence spanning two decades!” Now it was his turn to pose dramatically, pointing towards the ceiling. 

Everyone at the table groaned, turning to occupy themselves with something else. Purah started writing in her journal which she pulled out from her satchel, and Adello started to become very interested with the ceiling. Zimiri continued to pluck nothings on his lute.

Robbies crossed his arms, his white long sleeves folding across the Sheikah red shirt underneath. “Oh I see! So when Adello brags, she gets a musical accompaniment, but when I do it, it’s suddenly annoying and embarrassing?”

Adello smirked to herself, and answered, “Yep, that’s how it goes!”

“Alright you don’t get to speak Miss I-don’t-know-how-to-be-punctuation!” 

Purah promptly smacked Robbie over the head with a pen. 

“Hey! W—”

“The word is punctual you idiot.” 

Robbie slumped his shoulders and made a face. He tapped his thumb and fingers together, mimicking the opening and closing of a mouth while he muttered mockingly in Purah’s tone under his breath. 

Purah finished off a note in her journal before turning to the rest of the table. “Alright Adello, time to catch up. We’ve been playing ‘Till You Spill and I’ve already got some juicy stuff in here!”

Turning the pages of her journal towards Adello, she gave a chaotic grin. “Last round, Zimiri revealed that he once got teary eyed in front of the King himself after reading a poem about clouds.”

Zimiri raised his hands in defense. “Look, the clouds were an analogy for lost childhood innocence and I got choked up with that author’s amazing choice of imagery and descriptions, OK?”

Purah pointed her pen at him to hush, and continued. “Of course, him being a sentimental dork isn’t anything new, so he lost that round to Robbie who revealed the identity of his first crush.”  

Zimiri muttered something about the game being rigged towards the birthday boy, but Adello talked over him, excitedly.

“Ooohhhh? Robbie?? Who are they?” She propped up her elbows and cradled her chin in her hands, excited at the prospect of more embarrassing information she could hang over his head.

He mumbled, looking to Purah for assistance, but she only cupped a hand over her ear, waiting for him to respond. “You all fuckin—” he sighed, “it’s…she’s...c-ch…” he avoided everyone’s gaze, “her name is...Cherry…”

Adello gasped, gleefully. “That girl from your old university?? The writer you hung out with!?”

Purah beamed, shaking Robbie’s shoulders excitedly. “I know right???” She loosened her grip and allowed him to wiggle out of her grasp for a moment. “Oh sweetie, campus days may be long gone for all of us prodigies and geniuses,” she flipped a few strands of her white hair with a turn of her head, “but I’m sure you’ll get her someday. You just gotta turn up the charm, find a way to woo with words. I’m sure writers’ love that.” Purah pulled down her glasses and gave a forced wink at him.

Adello tried to hold her tongue to no avail. “Pffft. Yeah, you can try wooing her with your punctuation.” This got a snicker out of Purah, and caused the birthday boy to blush furiously and slump further in his seat. Zimiri finally spoke up.

“Now, now, let’s all play nice. We don’t need to pester him further about it, he did win the round after all.” 

“Uh, yeah. Speaking of the game, you still need to drink up mister.” Purah slid a tan brown cup of apple cider towards him, the translucent contents sloshing around like muck in a gutter.

He leaned on the back two legs of his chair. “Isn’t it punishment enough to smell it? The cider isn’t even near my face and my mouth is already burning.”

She shrugged. “Them's the rules of ‘Till You Spill. Your secret sucked, so swig!”

The poet groaned, but complied. Tipping the cup towards his lips, Zimiri took a hearty slurp of the cider, much to everyone’s amusement. It felt like hot, molten copper mixed with old apple skins. How could something both burn and freeze your throat at the same time? He let out a gag, to which Adello patted him on the back with a short laugh.

Raising his posture, Robbie crowed, “When we finally have Zimiri’s birthday maybe then we’ll actually upgrade to the alcohol.”

Adello raised an eyebrow. “Uh, right, because the upgrade from disorientingly strong, smelly apple cider, is you two being flat out drunk. Right...” 

Purah slammed both her fists down with pride, letting the cups and pitchers slosh a few, amber colored drops onto the worn wooden table. “Bold of you to assume I’d drink at all, considering I’ve never lost a round! Mwahaha!” She blew a raspberry at her. “This tongue is apple free, baby.”

She gestured with her pinky and index finger at Zimiri and Adello. “Now, you two! The late combatant and the latest loser shall spill next. Give us your juicy gossip!!”

The bard, still reeling from his drink, leaned back in his chair and gave a nod toward Adello. “Ladies first?”

While she wasn’t undefeated in this drinking game, she sure as hell was playing to win. Especially since somebody needed to knock that smug expression off of Purah’s face. Adello thought to herself quickly. 

Zimiri, no doubt, is probably gonna say something self-deprecating again, as he’s too nice to actually reveal anything embarrassing about anyone else. So...I just need to say something unexpected and interesting...perhaps something embarrassing about...hmm, I’ve already exhausted all my info about those cushy nobles and guards in past rounds…

Suddenly, she snapped her fingers. “The princess has a secret stuffed animal collection.” Seeing the light in her co-workers’ eyes twinkle, Adello knew she had chosen her words well. Purah leaned in. “OOoh? And how did you come across this juicy piece of information?” She rested her chin on an arm with an innocent smile.

“When I sent my application for the new job a few weeks ago, I gave it to the princess directly. It was late at night, and I bumped into her as she just left her room. The door was cracked open for a few seconds, before some royal, pompous guard slammed it right in my face. Yet, it wasn’t before I saw the pile of,” she counted on her fingers,  “cow, sheep, bird, dog, and several horse stuffed animals piled high by her big, blue bed. I bet if I peaked for just a few more moments I could have found enough to pin her as a true horse girl.”

Robbie shrugged his shoulders, unconsciously rapping the table with his finger. “Well, speaking as a horse guy myself, I can attest to the fact that the childhood horse obsession phase never leaves, so I find Princess Zelda’s collection quite admirable.” He gave a nod towards Zimiri. “Either way, it’ll be tough to top that, Zim. Cute, yet slightly concerning, fact about our future queen? Quite the competition. Shall I signal the waiter for a refill now?”

Zimiri plucked a few more strings from his lute, before finally setting it down on the floor. He tilted his head, playfully. The string with sage green beads seemed to sway with the tavern’s music, and he spoke with a glint in his eyes. “Well, I might be faced with impending failure and ultimate defeat, but hells if I’m not one to try instead of mope.”

He combed his fingers through his messy, white hair, pondering his next choice of words. Fiddling with the beads and strings wrapped around it, he thought out loud.

“Let’s see...to top out on an embarrassing fact about a respected princess...it's natural to combat it with something...personal? That always seems to be the more valuable information in this game…” Adello shook her head. He was playing right into her hand.

“Well...Robbie won last round with the identity of Cherry...so, how about I dish out something similar. See, I’ve...uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Oh! Well. Court poet, shrine researcher, the job gets you close with the princess...kinda...I’d like to think we’re close anyhow…” He mumbled the last part of his sentence and let out a short cough. Then, he went back to fiddling with his short, messy hair.

“So… ever since I moved into the castle. When did my mom come here�� five years now? I’ve, uh… had a crush on... Zelda…” He gave an uncertain grin, and raised the palm of his hands as if to ask, “well?”

At first he was met with silence. In his head, he started to celebrate the victory of his first ‘Till You Spill round in literal months. That was until he was met with groans and pitiful mutters. 

“Oh Zimiri,” Purah sighed, “I was rooting for you too.” Seeing the bewilderment creep onto the poet’s face, Robbie answered the question before it even escaped his lips. “Literally everyone here knew that bud, it’s not a secret.”

The bard started to sputter, moving his hands in wild, questioning motions.

“But? Wha— I? You!? Didn’t you— I… W-well I mean, I know Adello knew, I told her years ago, but you guys—”

“Oh my gods. Zimiri, you literally talk about her all the time, you’re totally in love. Given that we’re also the recipients of your long spiels and ballads about how ‘intelligent and thoughtful and amazing Zelda is,’” Purah said the words to mimic the tone of Zimiri’s honey sweet voice, “it’s exceptionally, extremely, very, very obvious.”

“R-recognizing a person’s positive traits doesn’t instantly mean in love!”

The royal scientist leaned across the table and patted his head. “Right, but you also started attempting love songs a coincidental 2 weeks after starting your job of shrine research with her. Your eyes are already red, so whenever she passes by it’s like your pupils magically form into adoring hearts. Try to stay away from poker, it’s for your own good.” 

Zimri continued to sputter, his cheeks becoming roser by the second. Robbie turned to Purah. “So, all in favour of finding Adello’s spill better than Zimri’s?” The two of them raised their hands in unison. “Alright buddy, secret sucked, so swig! WAITER PLEASE!”

Adello watched as the same woman she had seen near the bar earlier made her way to the table. Picking up a pitcher, she poured out a fresh cup of Adequate’s Apple Cider. The four of them had been here so many times, they didn’t even need to verbally ask for the order.

Before he could even start to reach for the cup, Adello snatched it out of the way. “Nah, it’s ok. I’ll do one for you, Zimiri. These two monsters have already tore you to shreds, and I’m sure I need a punishment anyway for coming in so late.” 

He started to protest, but after catching the look in her dark, iron eyes, he relented. “Well, I thank you for your generosity.” The other two, however, were not as compliant.

Purah cupped her hands around her mouth, yelling, “Booooo... Boo to pity! Boo to generosity!” Robbie mimicked her. 

“Yeah you have to respect your elders’ wishes. We demand blood! Suffering!” 

Adello cracked her neck for show, before downing her glass of cider in a few gulps. The stench and tingling sensation seemed to stick to the sides of her throat. It would take more than water to clear that out. “Adequate” was being very generous when describing its quality.

“Mmmm. The cider’s weirdly salty tonight, I think your attitudes got mixed in here.”

Purah blew another rasberry at her.

They played for a few more rounds, the clatter of cups and breaths of laughter decorating the hours. Much to everyone’s distaste, Purah continued her winning streak, getting by with unbeatable information about the King, royal guards, and one embarrassing anecdote about how her little sister, Impa, had caught her writing an interesting letter to the “local archery hunk.”

Yet, Purah laughed along with the rest of them, the eyes behind her red rimmed glasses held no shame, which Adello envied. Of course that sort of attitude would make you a master at this game. Robbie and Adello attempted to team up and be biased towards Purah in an effort to get her to lose, but either Zimiri didn’t take the hint, or he just really liked playing fair which wasn’t exactly out of character, even if it meant more drinks for him. 

Suddenly, a bell towards the back of the pub rang, signifying the end of the band’s gig. The dancing paused, as people gave their thanks, varying from politie applause to drunken yelps. Robbie then rapped the table with his hands, excitedly.

“You know what else tonight needs? Some amazing music, eh Zimiri?” He bounced his eyebrows up and down at him, and gestured towards the lute leaning on one of the table legs.

“I don’t know,” Zimiri replied, “I’ve only a part-time hire for the weekend rush hours, and I wouldn’t want to blindly get on stage and sing without being given permission.” 

Adello scoffed. “Uh, are you kidding? The owner would love for you to play without paying you. Haven’t you heard the talk around town? The Adequate’s Tavern: Home of alright food and acceptable ale, but an outstanding, white-haired bard!”

He fiddled with the string in his hair again. “Oh yeah? I’d love to meet him someday.” At this, Adello clicked her tongue and promptly shoved him out of his chair with her hip. 

He laughed to himself as he stumbled aback. “Alright, alright, but only because the birthday tyrant requested it.” Robbie clapped his hands in a “chop-chop” fashion, to truly signify his role as the newly dubbed tyrant.

Suddenly, Zimiri perked his head. Stepping back towards the table, he reached for his cup. “Oh wait, I just lost that round. I still need to drink my—”

Adello grabbed the cup right out of his hands. She tipped it 180 degrees and let the cider spill completely onto the wooden floor. He hopped back, and Purah let out a surprised yelp, saying something about letting the stench seep into the floorboards. Robbie just started to laugh, wildly. Noticing the small commotion, a few other guests looked back at them and started to snicker to themselves.

Setting the cup back on the table, the researcher said, “Great, now you don’t need to ruin your voice any longer. Now get up there and one-up the last band.” 

The bard pushed his chair under the table. Picking up his lute as he stood and faced Adello, a charming smile on his face. “Heh, well. My singing voice is grateful. I suppose now I’m in debt to comply.” He gave a curt bow.

Robbie clapped his hands again. “Great, great. Now quit the manners and let’s go already! I still have to order the cake pie!”

Both of the girls rolled their eyes in unison. Zimiri shrugged and started to walk through the small crowd of standing Hylians, and towards the small stage. 

A few of the regulars who recognized him let out whoops and whistles, yelling out “Bard!” or “More music!” in support. It seemed that no one really knew his name, but it was nice enough to know that even working here part time would grant you the honor of being recognized by a bunch of random folk. One confused patron, who only associated him with “z” yelled out “Yeah, Zelda!” before promptly slumping under the table. Looking around, a blonde girl caught his eye, as it seemed she was staring at him. He waved, and her cheeks, much to Zimiri’s confusion, turned pink at his gaze and she turned to her friends who started giggling. 

Moving past the last of the Hylians with an, “excuse me, sorry!” he finally stepped on the stage. The bard pulled up a small stool to the stage, leaning against it. Most of the folks continued to whoop in approval, seemingly eager for another chance to start dancing. Even the barkeep clapped his hands, probably excited at the thought of a free gig.

I guess, if no one is stopping me…

It was a rowdy bunch, but not a new one. Zimiri had played for these kinds of audiences before. 

“I see that quite a few people are itching for a new tune. So, uh, any requests?” he announced as he strum a chord on his lute. 

A mass of different voices bounced around the tavern, requests ranging from The Babbler’s Jig, Misko’s Tale, The Eldin Bluffs, and Can I Get More Ale? Although, Zimiri wasn’t quite familiar with the chords of that last song. 

He couldn’t stop himself from being biased towards the request of a certain dark skinned girl to his left.

“The World Behind!” Adello said. “Enough with those new ballads, I demand a classic!” 

Robbie pumped an arm in the air. “Yes!” he shouted. “I second that! So is my decree as birthday tyrant!”

The bard smiled, preparing the fingering on the neck of his lute. He turned towards the audience. “Well, I’m afraid I have no choice but to heed to such authority.” He began to pluck the beginning notes, tapping a tempo with his boot against the stage. “Now then, a beat, if you all would be so kind?”

The tavern chattered in approval, before piping down. There probably weren't more than 30 people, but the beat they made was definitely sufficient. The sound of stomping, banging mugs, and clapping filled the room. The tempo didn’t even need much adjusting, as The World Behind was pretty familiar around Castle Town. The beat was like a child pretending to be a marching soldier, unconcerned and playful.

Zimiri’s smile widened. A lively crowd indeed, this will do nicely. 

With that, he started to sing. His silvery voice echoed across the tavern, as he closed his eyes and began to play.

The boys have gone out to the wishing well

Will they come back? Oh only time will tell

A rupee for a life refined

But time and dreams never align

So tell the world we’ll leave it all behind

Many of the guests had started to dance again, while the rest continued the beat of the song. As Zimiri plucked rapid notes on his lute, he heard a supporting holler from Purah. Next to her, Robbie was slamming his fist to the beat, clearly enjoying himself.

Have you seen the soldiers’ drinking ale?

They wish to sing along with nightingales

To dance on home with songs and rhymes

To banish all the fears from mind

Yes tell the world we’ll leave it all behind

Another pause between the verses, and the bard played the “decorative” rapid notes in between. He didn’t mean to seem like he was showing off, but Adello would attest to the fact that this happened whenever he got too into the music. Looking towards her, Zimiri saw her give a double thumbs up. 

Of beasts and men and all atrocities

The damn-ed fate, she owns all that you see

To a better day of new design

Forgot about the gods divine

Oh tell the world we’ll leave it all behind 

At this point, some of the guests were singing along, though not to the point of overpowering his own alluring voice. Laughter rang out around the warmly lit room once again. Zimiri looked out at the dancing patrons and smiling guests, grinning at the feeling in his chest this brought. He continued the last verse.

Watch the home while—

“HEY!”

The sudden gruff voice startled the bard to the point where he nearly slipped off the stage.

Lumbering through the double doors, three guards entered the tavern. The one in front, who had interrupted the music, wore a typical knight’s outfit, the same as his male and female coworkers behind him. However, the black hooded cape he wore atop his metal armour swayed with every step he took across the floor, his supposed rank silencing the room. 

Well, mostly, silenced the room. A few ticked off guests were booing, groaning, and mocking him for ruining the entertainment. 

“Oh would you lot shut up for 2 seconds?!” he said, his voice booming across the tavern. “Listen, I’ll be blunt. I gotta give two messages for this establishment.”

The guests shook their heads, mumbling. Their booing and insults continued, but their volume quieted, it was too early to be getting cross with a couple of knights. Even Zimiri quietly slipped off the stage back towards his friends so as not to be at the end of the knight’s intimidating voice.  

The female guard behind the knight handed him a slip of parchment. Unfolding it, the guard cleared his throat.

“Firstly, you’re music and pounding is disturbing the noblemen next door. He’s staying at the inn or something and wants you to quote,” he read from the paper, “quit the mindless thumping, for Castle Town is a place of serenity and peace, not of nonsense jigs and banging.”

The groaning and insults started up again, the man gave a shrug, stating something about how he was just following orders. 

Adello couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “HA! Well, with an attitude like that, this’ll probably be the first and only time he’s been banged, he should be grateful.”

The room exploded into a mess of laughter and whoops. Even the guard smirked to himself, but attempted to hide it with a shake of his head, saying “Watch the mouth girl.” Although, his stern tone wasn’t in it.

After a second, he cleared his throat again. With a stomp of his boot regained the pub's attention, the laughter suffocated out.

“Now, we’re also here looking for a Dr. Robbie Kimura? I received word they might be around here?”

With the attention now towards a single table, most of the guests went back to their idle banter. A few waiters nodded their head towards the table in the back, and the man caught sight of three, white haired teenagers, who were sitting with the dark haired girl who had quipped out earlier. 

The scientists turned around too late, in an effort to avoid the knight’s gaze. “Gee, what a bunch of snitches,” Robbie mumbled. The three guards started to walk over to the table. 

“Dr...Robbie?”

“Who’s asking?” Robbie squinted with his dark brown eyes.

“Is this some kind of prank? You and your friends don’t even look old enough to drink.”

He scoffed. “Ok, first, yes I am a doctor! I didn’t fly through all those courses over four years just to be called, ‘Mr.’ And secondly, I’ll have you know that I am a ripe 20 years of age today, and I’m here drinking expired apple juice with my associates. So take that, pal!”

Beside him, Purah gave a proud nod in agreement. Zimiri started to wave at the guards, but Adello grabbed his arm before he could finish the movement. The guard was a bit unsettled with the way that girl was glaring at him. What was some random Hylian doing hanging out with a bunch of Sheikah anyway?

“Right, well look here son. Some curious aristo-brat snuck into the courtyard and caused one of those flying, metal Sheikah things to fall apart. My boss said that it was your prototype so you should come back and clean it up before something explodes, and possibly give a sincere apology to the meddling kid who got a few scratches.”

Robbie threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “You’re really gonna pull me out of a birthday just so I can go apologize to a spoiled kid for breaking in and ruining my Guardian?”

“If it let’s me keep my job, then yeah.”

Robbie mumbled something about not getting a slice of the apple cake pie. 

Suddenly, Adello got up and pushed her chair in, smoothing out the belt around her tunic as she walked towards them. 

“Ah yes, well thank you my dear assistant for the assessment but I’m capable of taking it from here.”

The guard raised a bushy, black eyebrow. “Sorry wha-”

“You said you only wanted Dr. Robbie? Well great job, you found them. Now let’s get going, I need to finish up a new design anyway.”

“You’re...Robbie? You’re a... clearly not—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should have had my mother consult you for your opinion before I was given my name.”

This time, the guard didn’t smile along with her quip. “This is not the time for—”

She held up a finger to silence him, and glared at the three guards with her iron eyes.

“Look, I’m not a nobody. I’m more than capable of fixing up the guardian and any other disasters you might have left lying around the castle grounds. If I’m feeling generous, maybe I’ll even lick the kid’s boots, it’s not my first time dealing with this, alrighty?”

The knights looked at each other, quizzically. The researcher crossed her arms. 

“You’re still following your precious orders, aren't you? How would you know what Dr. Robbie looks like? You can’t be faulted for not knowing someone you never met. So, you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

The blonde man behind the gruff, black caped guard, whispered something to his female coworker. Her gaze switched between the girl and the man. Still seeing the uncertainty in their eyes, Adello leaned closer to the knight and lowered her voice. “Come on, have a little heart, it’s his birthday.”

A beat of silence sat, only filled by the mild mumbling and chatter of the tavern. Finally, the guard let out a sigh. 

“Alrighty Dr. Kimura. I’ll help escort you to the site.”

Robbie started to protest, but Adello quickly silenced him with a wink. The guard turned towards the rest of the room, yelling, “The rest of you, the sun is gonna rise in a few hours so save your rioting for then! Am I clear?”

The patrons just responded with stupid groans, and half-hearted agreements. They started walking towards the door. The female guard started to put a hand on Adello’s shoulder, but she brushed it off, saying something along the lines of “I can walk on my own two feet, thank you very much.”

Purah turned in her seat. “I’ll save a slice of cake pie for you!” Adello turned her head and responded with a two fingered salute, before disappearing out the door with the guards. 

The tension in the tavern was almost immediately cleared, the moment the knights left. Most of the people went back to their normal conversational volume, and the waiters began to patter about with more confidence. However, Zimiri slumped in his seat, letting out a sigh. 

“Why does she always do things like that?”

Robbie fiddled with the edge of his cup, tracing his finger around the rim. “Well, you know her. Undermining authority? Check. Insults and quips? Check.”

Robbie continued to list off more traits, but it faded out of Zimiri’s ear. Always jumping onto other’s burdens. Ah, that idiot. I bet she hasn’t slept for the last two days. 

Purah suddenly piped up, taking out her pen and rapping it against the table. “Alright you too, let’s not let the sacrifice be in vain. Pool your rupees, we’re getting Robbie the fancy cake pie.” 

The clatter of a few red and blue rupees echoed on the wooden table, although Zimri knocked Robbie’s share aside, saying how the birthday tyrant shouldn’t have to pitch in. Purah turned in her chair and started to wave her hand, in order to get the attention of a waiter. The bard watched as a woman with a tray started to walk over to the table. Then, he turned to Robbie. 

“So what should we do while we wait?” Zimiri asked. Robbie stroked his chin, looking around the room. 

“I think...the people could still use some music.”

Looking out at the crowd, Zimiri noticed how the guards' interference had really dampened the atmosphere. The warm and lively laughter that was present just a few moments earlier was now replaced with more monotone chatter.

He nodded his head in agreement, putting on a charming smile. The place needed a new pick-me-up, did it?

Well, what else is a musician for?

Stepping back onto the stage, he strummed an open chord, double checking the tuning. The whooping and clapping started to return, much to his delight. Plucking a familiar melody, the warm feeling in his stomach returned as he watched the new smiles that started to fill the room. However, before he began to sing, Zimiri first focused on craning his neck to look out a window, trying to catch a glimpse of a certain girl in the night. 

It seemed the moon and sun were balanced on the edge of the world. The night had started to submerge behind the walls of West Castle Town, with only the brightest stars still perched upon the ink of the navy blue sky. The silver lining of greying clouds just barely glowed from the faint light of the day, still trying to break out of the eastern waters. 

Adello’s footsteps echoed through the cobblestone streets, but she could barely hear it against the shifting of metal plates from the guards in front of her. 

The gruff man looked back, scratching his peach fuzzed chin as he spoke. “Listen, if you finish your work quick I might be able to escort you back here.”

Adello shook her head. She turned to retrieve a journal from the pouch on her belt, opening its pages as an excuse to avoid his gaze. “No, it’s fine. I still have some more work I should be finishing up at home anyhow.”

“You...live at the castle?”

“Mmm.”

The guard took her blunt response as a sign to not continue with the niceties, much to Adello’s relief. Looking up, she gazed at the looming castle. Its towers were like mountain peaks, sitting above the blurred silhouettes of the buildings of Castle Town. 

Taking out a bit of charcoal, she started to sketch its outline on a fresh page in her journal. While she only had one color, she tried to capture the shadows and lighting that cascaded on one side of the castle to the other. 

The female guard slowed her step, starting to walk alongside the researcher. 

“Already working?”

Adello didn’t look up from her journal. “Uh… you could say that.”

She laughed. “Well you best hope you know what you’re doing. This kid’s father has been yelling at her highness all night. Supposedly because she’s helping to lead Sheikah research, so everyone associated with guardians is at fault.”

Adello finished up the tower of Princess Zelda’s study in her sketch. She smiled to herself at the finished work. It was one of her better pieces. Putting the journal away, she turned back to the guard and scoffed. “Is that so?”

The guard hummed a yes. “Apparently, the kid is the son of some visiting nobleman from the East Post. It’d be in your best interest to apologize profusely if you still wanna walk around alive.” 

Adello shook her head. She didn’t know it then, but looking back, many moons from now, she would laugh at the irony of her response.

“I’d rather die.”

[medusas-side-snake]

Scarred - Chapter 5

Hi guys, thanks for all the love on the series!!! Just send an ask if you want to be added to the tag list. Also, just wanted to let you guys know that I am currently taking requests for all sorts of fandoms, so if that’s something that you’re looking for, just let me know and I’ll see if I’m part of that fandom to write it!!!!!!!

Megan works for the Order, she has been on a mission for them for over a year. A mission that was only supposed to last two weeks. Heritage means that she is on thin ice with the rest of the Order, mix that with some heartbreak by the dragon-loving Weasley boy and a certain Black family member with a vendetta and you have the following story.

I decided that I needed some time after having to relive everything. I was sitting next to the bushes that are placed under the lounge window, which was open. This meant that I could hear all that was said in there. I couldn’t see who was in the lounge but I could clearly hear Sirius and Remus talking, perhaps the moral thing would’ve been to move or, at least, make myself known to the pair.

And I was going to, honest.

“...letting personal feelings cloud your judgement.” I only caught the tail end of Remus’ sentence as they moved closer to the window.

“Memories can be altered, Remus. You know that.” Sirius’ voice piped up and it didn’t take a genius to work out what they were talking about.

“And that means that I know what an altered memory looks like and it’s not that.” Remus ws trying his best to placate Sirius.

“It could’ve been set up.” I didn’t stick around to hear Remus’ response, instead I stood up directly in front of the window and stalked off to the small lake a bit aways from the Weasley home.

Once there, I performed a waterproof spell on the clothes that I was wearing and entered the lake. I didn’t want to swim, I wanted to be weightless for a minute. To not be dragged down by the weight of carrying everything around, just for a short while.

I didn’t know how long I was floating in the water but at some point I closed my eyes, my mind completely blank as I was.

It was Fleur who came out to fetch me. She called my name softly and I knew that my time was up, I had to go back and face everyone.

We ate our tea in silence, only the radio playing, nobody spoke about what they had seen and I certainly was not going to be the one to bring it up.

When the sun was just beginning to go down, I asked Fleur to help me to put some more cream on my wounds.

“Yes, of course. I will be up in a moment.”

I went up to Charlie and Bill’s room to get the cream that Charlie sent and then I went into the bathroom. While I was in there, I began to freshen up as I had every intention of going to sleep after the fresh cream had been applied.

Fleur didn’t take long and she got to it as soon as she entered the room. She didn’t say much beyond small talk, ‘the weather was nice today, no?’ and a little bit of wedding talk. It seemed like something was on her mind and I couldn’t help but feel like she disapproved of me after witnessing everything that had gone on.

I didn’t make much small talk as I was mainly in my head about the Sirius thing. In truth, we had never really got on since he escaped from prison and I wasn’t really filled with a passion for his approval, but how could he argue after what I had shown them?

Fleur finished up and we bid each other goodnight and I went into the room.

It felt like I had only just gone to sleep when I was woken up by shouting downstairs, a quick look out of the window, however, showed the pitch black night sky and I knew that I had to have been asleep for at least a few hours.

The shouting was too muffled for me to properly make out words but I could definitely distinguish voices. I could hear Molly’s as it got higher and higher the more she shouted, I could hear Moody’s booming over everyone else’s, I could hear Kingsley’s accent drifting upstairs and I could hear Sirius’ too. From the pattern that I could hear the voices in, it seemed like Sirius was arguing with the other three and I remained completely still on the bed in the hopes of making out some of what was being said.

Booming footsteps on the stairs, however, ruined that plan.

I sat bolt upright in bed when I heard them and I held my breath when I heard them stop for a second on the landing to this floor.

Moody crashed through the door.

“Get dressed.” In my time with Moody, I had noticed that he really only spoke in short sentences, and that the short sentences left no room for argument.

He turned around but still stayed in the doorway. I stayed where I was sitting in the bed.

“Now.” I did as he asked, quickly getting dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a green t-shirt from the pile of Ginny and Hermione’s clothes that they had lent me until I could get some that fit me. I put on my black trainers and grabbed Charlie’s camo jacket from the back of the door. Once I was ready, Moody moved away from the door and began to walk down the stairs, I followed, pulling the jacket on as we descended.

The shouting from downstairs continued the entire time that Moody was upstairs, but when I entered the kitchen, it stopped.

Sirius looked away with disbelief on his face.

Milling around the kitchen were Kingsley, Molly, Hagrid, Arthur, Fred, Bill, Fleur, George, Tonks, Remus, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Sirius (obviously) and a stout, balding man.

“Right, that’s everyone. Let’s go.” Remus seemed eager to get everyone out of the door and was out of the back door and into the yard before anyone had a chance to argue.

We all followed, except Hermione, Ginny, Molly and Sirius, who all lingered in the doorway. In the yard there was a pile of broom sticks, Hagrid’s motorcycle and two Thestrals tied to the gate.

“Right, partners.” Arthur said as he moved to stand in front of everyone and was met with groans from all of his children.

“We know, Dad. We have gone over this three times a day for a week.” A rare, stern look from his father shut George up.

“Partners. Tonks and Ron.” He gestured over to the empty space by his side and the pair took it after Tonks picked up a broomstick. “Bill and Fleur.” They followed his command and went to stand by the Thestrals. “George and Remus.” Remus picked up a broom stick and they both went to stand next to Tonks and Ron. “Mundungus and Alastor.” Moody picked up his own broomstick from the pile and went to stand by Bill and Fleur, all while keeping hold of Mundungus' (the stout, balding man) upper arm. “Hagrid, you’ll be travelling with Harry.” So that’s what we were doing, nice of someone to let me know. Hagrid went to stand by his motorcycle. “Fred, you’re with me.” Fred picked up the final broom and went to stand behind his father. That left me and Kingsley and one Thestral, Arthur confirmed that we both moved over to stand with them.

“Everybody get ready.” Moody called out and we began to mount our brooms or Thestrals (and, in Hagrid’s case, a motorcycle). Kingsley got onto the Thestral first and I figured that I was supposed to mount behind him.

“5! 4! 3! 2!” Moody counted down. “Kick off!” We flew into the air as one.

We moved into the typical ‘V’ formation as we flew to Surrey.

***

A few hours later, we landed in the back garden of No.4 Privet Drive.

Harry was quite surprised when he saw all of us and pleasantries were exchanged. Harry was a little bit off with me which is something that I expected based on his relationship with Sirius and my relationship with Sirius. Harry would never trust me as long as Sirius didn’t, which sucked because I was doing all of this for him and I had gone through a lot for him.

When Moody got everyone corralled into the lounge and in some sort of order, I was next to Harry.

“What happened to your face?” It was the first time that he had addressed me directly and I heard some of the talking in the room die down, everyone (apart from Mundungus who was expressing his indignation to Moody) well aware of Harry’s opinion of me.

“It’s a long story.” Harry had a habit of internalising things, if I just came out and told him everything that happened and the questions that they asked, he would use it as fuel for the fire burning him alive in his mind. That, or he wouldn’t believe me. Both would suck.

I was almost as surprised as he was when the plan for transporting him this evening was revealed.

But shortly after, we were all in the back garden once again, only this time half of us looked like Harry. I could feel the small bundle of my shrunken clothes in my pocket, I wanted to keep hold of them so that I didn’t lose Charlie’s jacket. It was still important to him, and him to me, no matter what state our relationship was in.

We were ambushed almost as soon as we were in the air, curses and hexes flying at us and we did our best to fight back.

I was sending curses and blocking those that were coming for Kingsley and I while also trying to make sure that I could block some of the ones that were coming for the others that they hadn’t seen. There were instances where I couldn’t block a curse in time or the curse was too powerful to block, in those cases I manipulated their broom and pulled them backwards out of the way.

I sent a blocking spell towards George and Arthur, but I was too slow and I saw it hit him on his left side. There was no time to help as more spells flew towards us and through the air and the Thestral began to sink through the clouds.

We kept fighting until Kingsley landed us in the middle of nowhere.

“What are we doing here? They are still-!” I began to question before there were, at least, ten Death Eaters shooting spells at us, we both do our best to incapacitate them.

In the time that it took to neutralise them all, we had missed the Port Key.

“Come on!” Kingsley shouted and we began to run.

I wasn’t sure how long we ran for, it wasn’t long any way, before we came to a church. Kingsley strode in, the door banging against the walls as he pushed them open.

“Sallaes!” He shouted and a tall, thin woman came rushing from a back room.

“We were ambushed. The Port Key’s gone.” He explained simply. By this time, the Polyjuice potion was beginning to wear off and I could feel myself shrinking slightly, Harry only being a few inches taller than me. I felt my hair growing at a rapid pace and when I inspected a strand near the front of my face, it had gone back to it’s natural red colour.

I could hear the woman murmuring to Kingsley but I couldn’t hear what was being said.

“No, all Floos are being watched.” Kingsley was keeping his normal volume so I could only assume that the woman was naturally soft spoken and not that they were still keeping me in the dark about everything.

I spun around as I looked around the church, high ceiling, small room, nicely decorated yet modest. I had just turned to inspect the doors when I saw the lights coming from the hill Kingsley and I had just left.

“Kingsley!” I said in a hushed but stressed voice. I didn’t want to raise my voice to shout and risk them hearing us. He turned to face me and I could see his face drop when he saw that they were making their way towards us and there seemed to be more of them too.

“We need to leave. Now!” He turned back to Sellaes who hurried us into the back room that she came out of.

“This is the only time I’m offering this up Kingsley, don’t ask again.”

“I won’t, thank you Sellaes”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waved his thanks away and summoned a very large cauldron from a storage cupboard. “Get in.” She said as a small set of stairs flew across the floor to rest against the side of the cauldron and we did as she asked.

She picked up a pot of red powder, not unlike Floo powder, and blew it in our faces. Before I even knew what was happening, the cauldron was spinning and we came to a stop just before the gate to the Weasley garden.

“Whoa!” I was holding my head as Kingsley climbed out of the cauldron.

I followed him and we both made our way to the door that led to the Weasley kitchen

Before we could get too close, however, Remus came storming out to meet us. He held his wand out in front of him and pointed it at us as Kingsley did the same and asked, “The last words Albus Dumbledore spoke to the pair of us?”

“Harry is the best hope we have. Trust him.” Kingsley seemed satisfied with this answer as he lowered his wand and turned to Harry.

“What gave you away?” He and Harry continued talking as I made my way into the kitchen to look for the others and, more importantly, George.

When I entered the kitchen, I saw everyone crowded around the sofa, where George was lying. Molly was trying to staunch the bleeding coming from his ear, with little success.

“I’ve got it.” I rushed over to the arm of the sofa by George’s head and Molly quickly moved out of the way.

I summoned over a bowl, a cloth and a pillow. Then, I placed the pillow under George’s shoulders so that his head was more level and filled the bowl with water with a swish of my hands.

Everyone was looking at where I was knelt at the top of George’s head as I began to swirl my pointer finger above his ear.

When the green liquid came swirling out a few minutes later, they all took a step back as it began to jump from the spiral before I got it back under control.

Once I felt that the spiral had almost become too big for me to handle, I used my other hand to begin to curl it into a ball. I pressed and pressed on the curse until my fingers could link together while my hands formed a ball. I created a small fire inside my hands and lit the curse on fire, the only way to make sure that it was gone and would not cause any more infection. I then wiped away any fluid around George’s ear that may have leaked out, rinsed the cloth and cleaned it away.

I repeated this process a few times until less and less curse fluid came out each time.

“This will have to be completed a few times a day for the next week or so.” I heard Alastor telling Arthur, Molly being too busy holding George’s hand, once I summoned the bandages from the kitchen and began to wrap George’s ear to keep it clean.

I could faintly hear the conversation going on to my left.

“No, I think you’re like James, who would have regarded it as the height of dishonour to mistrust his friends.” I heard Remus say.

“Wouldn’t have trusted a Death Eater though.” I clearly heard Sirius’ snide remark.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” I bit back before I could stop myself.

“It means, how convenient is it that we have a Death Eater mutt and they just happen to find out about his moving day.”

“I didn’t even know that he was being moved.” I defended myself. “You’re doing, I presume, planting seeds of doubt with your nasty ideas.”

“Oh, don’t try to fool everyone into thinking that you can’t find things out with your dark magic.” I looked at him like he had a second head.

“Dark magic. You really have lost the plot. What are you going on about?”

“That stuff you can do without a wand. It’s not natural.”

“Now, Sirius, that’s not dark magic. It’s talent.” Remus attempted to placate Sirius before anything escalated.

“Come off it, Remus! You said yourself that it’s strange how good she is at it. Don’t rule out dark magic. And… she got a letter last year from her parents so don’t let her fool you into thinking that she has completely repented.” It did hurt to hear that Remus considered me some kind of freak for what I could do, we had always got on well.

“Repented! What have I got to repent for? And if you’re going to go snooping at my post, Sirius, at least read it. The letter was from Dumbledore, my parents are dead.” There was silence in the room for a couple for about thirty seconds before Sirius piped up again.

“Well you seemed pretty broken up about it. Why was that, sad you couldn’t pass information to them anymore? Moved onto their friends, have you?” Sirius continued to push the same narrative he had been preaching since we were re-united.

“No! How did you feel when you learned that your brother had died. When you’re mum! Your dad! I wasn’t really sure how I was supposed to feel!”

Sirius smirked as though I had just handed him the loaded gun that he would need to take me out. “Doesn’t excuse the fact that you still wrote letters to them.”

Once again, silence filled the room for a beat too long.

“What?” Remus asked Sirius, but his eyes had not left me.

“Yeah, while they were in Azkaban.” He nodded, he knew he had the entire room's attention now. “She wrote letters to them for a year.”

“No, that can’t be Sirius, you can’t get mail in Azkaban.” Molly tried to defend.

“I was given special circumstances from Dumbldore and the Minister.” I spoke for the first time since this revelation had been made.

Silence took over the room again, so I continued to explain while I had the chance.

“When they were taken away, I was 8. I didn’t know what had happened, why they weren’t coming home or why I had to go and live with a lady I had never met before. So yeah… I wrote to them. It took them a year to reply and do you want to know what they said?” I looked around the room, some were looking at me, while others looked away. Alastor had both eyes trained on me, as did Sirius, Remus and Kingsley.

“They said that I wasn’t their daughter so long as I lived with a Muggle. They said that about the woman who had been kinder to me in a year than they had in eight. The woman who I loved.” I took a step back, away from him and spread out my arms.

“So, please, tell me and everyone else how one simple sentence could make me forget everything my Nana had taught me and would make me disregard everything that Molly and Arthur ever could.” I waited a beat and he had no answer.

“You know what? I’m done. With you, with this. I’m over it, I’m out.” I held my hands up in front of my chest.

“What? Megan, no.” Remus spoke up.

“No, I’m being serious. I’m tapping out, I’m saying Uncle. Whatever you want me to say, this is it. I’m going back to my flat and I don’t want to hear from anyone whose last name isn’t Weasley.” I began to walk to the stairs, ready to pack up my things and move on.

“What about the Order?” Alastor spoke as I reached the bottom step.

“I’ll go on missions and tell you everything I know.” I sighed, “Don’t tell me anything, clearly nobody trusts me and I’m not so dumb as to think that you would actually tell me any truth with what you just heard anyway.” With that, I walked up the stairs and into Charlie and Bill’s room.

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[warofshadowstheorder]

Chapter 04

The flow of the Atlantic Ocean was calm and steady.  Airplanes flew overhead as different boats and ships floated by on their way to various destinations.  Underneath the waves, the various marine life forms that populated it went about their daily lives and saw to their needs.  In the sky, a Peregrine Falcon gracefully and swiftly soared through the air.  It flew through the sky and away from the populous nations that surrounded it.

The bird’s path instead led it far away from the nearest logical established landing place and far into the Atlantic in a region very seldom traveled.  An island measuring five miles around, located approximately 100 miles northwest of Ireland, shrouded in mist was the bird’s final destination.

The falcon flew directly into a mist off the coast of the island and perched on a high tower.  The tower was a parapet that was part of a 20-foot high wall encircling the island like a giant snake protectively coiling around its eggs beginning approximately 20 yards inland with the Atlantic Ocean forming a natural moat.  The island varied in elevation, the lowest points being by the ocean, the rest of it was mainly rises that rose into hills and back down again.  The highest part took up most of the northwestern, northern, and northeastern sectors of the island.  It was a mountain rising up to 3,000 feet with a prominent ridge at 1,200 feet.  The locals called the mountain Mount Titus, the ridge they called Gideon Ridge.  Together, they formed an impenetrable barrier from the part of the island.

There was a large quarry not much farther inland from Mount Titus.  Several teenage boys were inside hard at work harvesting ore, under the supervision of a few older men.   Not far beyond that was a mine shaft with more teenage boys occasionally entering and emerging from it.  On the western coast of the island, there was a small hydroelectric plant set up that used the flow of the ocean to generate electricity.  Further inland, various structures dotted the landscape.  Several homes ranging in size so that the human inhabitants could see over the wall surrounding the island were the most numerous.  In the midst of the homes were a few other buildings dedicated to various tasks.  All of the homes and buildings branched out from a prominent hill, whose peak was dominated by a large breathtaking church built after the manner of a Gothic Cathedral.

The soil on the island was the most fertile imaginable.  Over parts of the island not taken up by man made structures corn, potatoes, turnips, spinach, lettuce, carrots, apples, oranges, and various other forms of vegetation thrived alongside cattle, horses, chickens, pigs, and other animals grazing freely over seemingly endless fields of grass.  On another part of the island falcons, pigeons, doves, and numerous kinds of birds flew through the air; sailing on the winds before perching on some of the various trees in the dense woodland that began just after where Mount Titus ended.

The island was a hive of activity.  Little children ran around playing in the warm open air.  Elsewhere, activities ranging from boxing training to lessons on Renaissance art and how to cultivate the various kinds of plants found all over the island were in progress.

One of the buildings inside the Monastery was a dormitory with various bedrooms on multiple floors.  Nearby was a dining facility with a kitchen and an adjoining area for people to eat.  A few different gymnasiums were close by as well.

The Cathedral was the focal point of the island, with the chapel at the center.  The chapel consisted of pews for a congregation, an organ, and a podium for a speaker with an elaborately carved symbol consisting of a red background with a dark colored circle on top with four white beams inside of it in a plush shape extending from the center to the edges.  Another part of the Cathedral housed the chambers of the one they called the Apostle, who oversaw everything, and was also used for some specific rituals.  Another room was something unique to the monastery.

At the top of a high tower was an empty room except for several large cauldrons placed all along the floor.  The cauldrons were black with large handles on either side and filled with water.  Besides the handles there was nothing particularly unique about them other than their mere presence.

The room was still and quiet, with a black duffel bag resting on the ground near the front.  By the duffel bag was a small table where two young women dressed in dark gowns resembling Habits without Wimples sat.

The woman sitting closest to the cauldrons had long red hair and beautiful blue eyes.  The other woman had long light blonde hair and big chocolate brown eyes.  The brunette, Alicia Bruce, waited with barely contained patient anticipation.  The blonde was her friend Sara.

“How much longer do you think you’ll be here?” Sara asked slightly concerned with a Dutch accent.

“Until he gets back,” Alicia answered in a Scottish brogue with a tone reflecting the fact that she’d been in that room for several hours, “I have Gifted McAllister looking after the boys and I don’t want to be relieved until my Odin gets back.”

“You sure do love him, don’t you?” Sara asked with a hint of admiration.

“He’s the man of my dreams,” Alicia answered “I hope that someday you can find the man of yours.”

“Some of us aren’t as fortunate as you,” Sara said, “the perfect man isn’t just brought into the Order and then given a love-struck girl to show him around the place.”

“Oh please,” Alicia said, “I completely loathed him when he first got here.  I didn’t like how he was cocky and arrogant and such a smart-aleck.  But,” she got a far-off wistful look on her face, “in time I got to see that he had dedication, persistence, and charm as well, and that when taken together…he was everything a girl could ask for.”

“Hmm,” Sara said, “if the first step to having the man of your dreams is to loathe him, then I should say that I have a good start with about half the Knights here.”

The two of them laughed heartily and were almost at the point of tears when they heard a sound like a rock splashing into a pond emanate from the nearest cauldron.  They both paused and looked at the cauldron, ripples forming in the water.

“You take it,” Sara said, “we both know that you would rather get the news than me.”

Alicia smiled and walked over to the cauldron.  She pulled back the sleeve on her robe and put her arm into the water.  She felt around at the bottom of the cauldron until feeling a rock resting there.  A watertight bag with a note inside was wrapped around the rock.  She undid the rope and read the note:

Dieter and Olcán in USA, convenience.

Alicia’s heart sank enough that it was visible to Sara as she read the note.  She walked up and gently took the note from Alicia.

“Do we have any higher priorities right now?” Sara asked.

“Not at the moment,” Alicia answered, “we should have time to bring them back.”

“Okay,” Sara said, “I’ll prepare the cauldron.”

Sara walked to the cauldron.  She then put the tip of her finger into the water, closed her eyes, and concentrated.  After a few moments, she slowly moved her finger in a crisscross pattern before stirring it in the center.

After removing her finger, she opened her eyes.  She looked into the water and saw it begin to swirl in a whirlpool motion before stopping and moving back and forth.  In a moment, the reflection of the water began to change and distort until the image in the water was of a tiled ceiling and what appeared to be a storage area in someone’s basement.

In a moment, she saw Dieter’s face in the water.  He looked into her face and a smile made its way across his features.

“Guten tag Sara,” Dieter said into the water, “you’re just looking for any excuse to see me naked aren’t you?”

“Just keep telling yourself that spierkop,” Sara answered, “Alicia and I are here and right now you two are our top priority.”

“Olcán’s right here,” Dieter said, “und we are on our way over.”

“Fine,” Sara said slightly annoyed, “we have your Brussels package here, and tell Olcán we’ll have a towel and clothes for him.”

“Well stand back,” Dieter said with a smile, “because you know that I am too much of a man to not cause an overflow.”

“Yeah,” Sara said rolling her eyes, “your ego takes up too much space.”  She then stepped back from the cauldron before Dieter could say anything else.

A moment later Dieter rose out of the cauldron, with a significant amount of water splashing out as he did so.  He came up with a gasp and shook some of the water off his head before rubbing his eyes, the water dripping off his immensely muscled body as he stepped out of the cauldron.

Many of the people at the Monastery, including Sara much to her chagrin, were so impressed with Dieter’s physique that they thought he looked like a comic book character or some kind of Hellenic deity.  Every inch of his body was solid muscle and looked like he had been sculpted out of pure Granite.  His body was so chiseled that it seemed as though someone had made a conscious effort to organize each muscle so that they weren’t crowded together.

His body was adorned with ten geometric symbols on his shoulders, chest, back, and abdomen.  He also had a tattoo on his left forearm that read:

124872

לעולם לא

The most prominent mark was a large black circle over the left side of his chest.  It had been burned onto his skin, the borders of the dark circle surrounded his flesh.  Within the circle, four beams extended from a smaller circle to the borders of the larger one.

He was completely naked with the exception of a metal Star of David medallion with each corner fashioned into a razor-sharp blade around his neck.  It was three inches high, an inch and a half wide, and an inch thick.  It had a silver color, with the exception of red beams that rose above the middles of the beams that made up the Star with a prominent rise and point at the center of the symbol.

“Like what you see,” Dieter said confidently to Sara, who threw the duffel bag at him.

“Just hang tight,” she said, “you have to join Duncan in Brussels for your assignment as soon as Olcán gets back and I can get the water prepared.”

“I love how you are able to mask your feelings for me,” Dieter said confidently as he walked forward to take the duffel bag, not bothering to dry off.

“Whatever,” Sara said, “Nigel says not to bother cleaning Bathsheba or Solomon since he took care of that for you.”

“Ah,” Dieter sighed wistfully, “I will have to thank him personally when I get back.”

“In the meantime,” Sara said trying to sound disgusted, “do us all a favor and cover up.”

Just as she said that, Olcán came out of the cauldron in a similar fashion to how Dieter had earlier.  Olcán also had a muscular build, but it was more trim and toned compared to Dieter’s large and chiseled form.

He had the same marks on his body that Dieter did, in addition to nine more.  His medallion was in the shape of a Celtic Cross with red beams and bladed corners similar to Dieter’s.

Several scars also adorned his body, including a long jagged one up his right side, and a smaller one over his heart.  He also had a Japanese character burned onto the base of his neck and wore Odin’s crucifix next to his own.  Olcán climbed out of the cauldron as Sara tossed him a towel.

“Go raibth maith agat Sara,” Olcán said as he dried off his face and ran his hands through his flat hair to put it back up into a flattop.

“I’m not surprised to see you here,” Olcán said when his eyes found Alicia, “don’t worry, Odin should be fine.”

“Oh thank God,” Alicia breathed out, “when the note said that it was just you and Dieter I thought that…”

“He is just going to be a little late,” Dieter chimed in, “he volunteered to stay behind and distract the authorities who were there while Olcán und I slipped out.”

“Do you have any idea how long he’ll be?” Alicia asked concerned as she took the crucifix Olcán handed her into her hand and held it tight.

“We told him that the longer he was away, the more worried he would make you,” Dieter responded, “but you know as well as I do that how long he stays locked up is his decision.”

“He’s in jail?!” Alicia shrieked out catching Dieter and Sara completely off-guard.

“Jah,” Dieter replied after a moment, “but we got the message out that he will need legal counsel, so he will be fine.”

“I’m sure he will,” Alicia said getting a smile on her face, “he always finds a way to get back here.”

Olcán smirked as he thought of his old friend and comrade and remembered some of the many missions the two of them had undertaken.  One particular event that he remembered with fondness was when they went on a mission to rural Mexico and had to go on the run afterwards.  They wound up in the desert eating whatever Rattlesnakes and other animals they could catch as they moved to where they could get back to the Monastery.

At about that time, Sara had again placed her finger into the water and gotten it back to normal.  She then put her finger back in and concentrated until the image in the water changed from a reflection of the room known as the Cauldron Chamber, to a cellar somewhere in Brussels.

“It’s ready now,” Sara called out, “now get out of here Dieter.”

“Auf wiedersehen,” Dieter said grabbing the bag, “try not to miss me too much fraulein.”

“I will manage,” Sara replied callously.  Dieter then jumped into the cauldron feet first holding the bag above his head.  He fell into the cauldron and didn’t stop dropping, and he didn’t come up in the monastery.  Sara looked into the water inside the cauldron and saw Dieter’s face in it looking back at her.

Once she saw that he had made it there, she put her finger back in the water and cleared it.  Olcán had already dried off and dressed in a black undershirt and shorts along with the dark Cossack that had been provided for him.

“Why’d you cut him off like that,” he asked, “you’re supposed to wait for him to confirm his safe arrival?”

“I probably should,” Sara answered, “but I don’t want to give him a chance to talk more than he already does.”

“Hmpf,” Olcán lightly grunted, “I imagine the Apostle wants to see me?”

“You imagine right,” Sara answered, “you should probably tell Chloe and the boys that Odin will be delayed.”

“I’ll do that,” Olcán replied as he walked up to Alicia and gently put his hand on her shoulder, “I’ll see you around Alicia.”

“Thanks Olcán,” she said as she softly put her hand on top of his, “I’m glad that my Odin has a friend like you.”

He then left the room and made his way down a stone staircase a short distance from the door.  He walked down the staircase slowly, knowing that he didn’t need to hurry.  He got to the bottom of the stairs and walked through the back end of the chapel to a staircase leading to the Apostle’s chambers, stopping for a moment to look into the chapel.

The chapel was very simple, but it was all that the residents of the Monastery needed.  The floor was made of stone, as were all the floors in the Monastery that weren’t earth, and the pews were simple wooden hand-carved benches.  An organ rested behind the makeshift pulpit, and stands for a choir were on either side of it.  Despite its simple nature, the atmosphere inside the chapel instilled feelings of reverence, humility, and solemnity in the hearts of anyone inside.

The only somewhat elaborate decoration similar to something that would be in a similar structure was a large circle carved out of a thick block of wood with the center removed.  Four beams forming the shape of a plus sign extended from the edge of the circrcle, they converged on a solid dark circle in the middle of the larger one.forming the emblem of the Order.

Olcán looked to the front of it and paused for a moment to let the feeling of the place sink in.  He thought for a while about what he had done, and what he would continue to do, in the service of the organization he belonged to and the ones he served.  After a while, Olcán genuflected and walked across the chapel to ascend the stairs to the other tower.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he saw a familiar face coming out of the only door.  It was a man about his age and height, with long brown hair down to just past his shoulder blades.  He was very handsome, and had a dashing appearance akin to figures depicted in swashbuckling films and books.  He also had alluring grey eyes.

“Dang it Tadeas,” Olcán said, “when are you going to get a real haircut?”

“I’ll get a ‘real’ haircut,” Tadeas answered with a sly smile and accent-free voice while making quotation marks with his fingers, “about the same time that you fail a mission.”

“If that’s true,” Olcán retorted, “then your hair will be tickling your heels before you know it.”  The two of them laughed and then hugged.

“It’s great to see you again,” Olcán said after they came apart, “how did your assignment in London go?”

“Jolly good,” Tadeas answered with a perfect English accent, “it was difficult to find the targets,” he reverted to his real voice, “but after Jamuike and I found their hideout the rest was pretty easy.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Olcán responded, “is Jamuike in there now?” he asked gesturing to the door.

“Yeah,” Tadeas answered, “the Apostle wanted to go over a few things with him before we left.  You caught me on my way out.”

Tadeas and Olcán had gone on several missions and a few holidays together.  They both had pictures together from various parts of the world they had visited.  One favorite of theirs was them standing on the Great Wall of China wearing old-time Chinese hats.  They were disappointed that they didn’t get to see as much of each other as they would have liked, but they did their best to make up for it whenever they got an opportunity.

“Are you planning on staying here for your next holiday,” Olcán asked, “or are you going somewhere off the island?”

“Olcán,” Tadeas said calmly as he patted his old friend on the back, “when have you ever known me to stay around here when I have holiday time?”

“Touché brother,” Olcán answered, “where do you think you’ll go this time?”

“I’ve wanted to go back to Monte Carlo for a while now,” Tadeas said, “I figure that now’s as good a time as any.  Are you up for a little Monte Carlo adventure?”

“Thanks,” Olcán said, “but I really don’t feel like traveling.  Besides, Odin got arrested on our last mission and…”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Tadeas asked rhetorically while rolling his eyes, “He’s got to learn to be less reckless and more focused.”

“Hey,” Olcán answered, “we all have our shortcomings.  Odin’s happens to be discretion.”

“We can both agree on that,” Tadeas said, “but I’m sorry for interrupting you, what were you saying?”

“I was just saying that while Odin’s gone I should really stick around and help Chloe with the boys while Alicia’s waiting for him.  Plus, I should check up on Declan and see how much he’s progressing.”

“All work and no play Olcán,” Tadeas said “you shouldn’t take yourself so seriously.”

“I don’t,” Olcán answered as the door to the Apostle’s office opened, “but I take this work very seriously.  Jamuike.”

Olcán greeted a large black man with a shaved head and muscular build who came out of the office.  Jamuike had had a serious look on his face when he came out, but at the sight of Olcán and his greeting, he immediately brightened up.

“Olcán,” he said in a Nigerian accent as the two of them shook hands and patted each other on the back with their free hands, “I take it the American assignment went well.”

“It did,” Olcán replied, “the only damper is that Odin got arrested when we were trying to get out of the hot zone.”

“Really,” Jamuike asked surprised, “does he have an escape plan?”

“We took some precautionary measures when we loaded up for it,” Olcán replied, “so I have every confidence that he’ll get out fine.”

“Let’s hope so,” Jamuike answered, “if he’s away too long Alicia will kill him when he finally does get back.  Worst case scenario, she’ll have the kids take her name.”

“I doubt it will come to that,” Olcán said, “but he should be getting back soon enough.”

“Olcán,” a voice came from behind Jamuike, “coe in here please.”

“I guess you’d better get in there,” Jamuike said, “the Apostle has been expecting you.”

“Right,” Olcán turned to face Tadeas and patted his shoulder, “I’ll see you when you get back.  Have fun in Monte Carlo.”

“Thanks,” Tadeas said as he patted Olcán on the back, “I hope you have fun hanging out around the island.”  Olcán smirked and then turned to Jamuike.

“Always nice to see you Jamuike.”

“Same to you Olcán,” Jamuike answered.

Olcán walked through the door Jamuike had been holding open and heard it close behind him.  The chambers of the Apostle, unlike the chapel, were adorned with various decorations.  The most prominent features were three large paintings and two other wall decorations.  One of the paintings was a depiction of Da Vinci’s “The Last Supper” in a condition that appeared as though it was fresh from the artist’s canvas.  Another was a depiction of a man dressed in Roman armor with a shield and long spear, and a black man almost as large as Dieter holding a sword with a flaming blade facing some kind of huge monster in a barricaded area near a small village.

The third painting depicted a man kneeling on top of a high cliff overlooking a vast ocean.  The man on his knees had the sword from the other picture resting on top of his hands while a majestic celestial being standing before him reaching forward to take it.

The other wall decorations were two large plaques with an elaborate collection of symbols engraved on the top portions.  Several nameplates were underneath the symbols, along with more adjoining plaques with additional nameplates.  One of the plaques had considerably more names than the other.

A dazzling array of different artifacts from every region of the world, most of them priceless, decorated the walls and rested on several shelves around the Apostle’s chambers.

A man sat behind a desk set up at the far end of the room.  The man looked to be in his late forties or early fifties and had a full head of brown hair that reached down to the base of his neck, along with a short beard that matched the color of his hair.

His eyes were green and had a constant look of compassion and nurturing.  He spoke with a voice that was simultaneously calm and comforting but also strong.  He was sitting comfortably and smiled as Olcán entered.

“Olcán,” the man said standing up and pointing to a chair in front of the desk, “please have a seat.”

“Yes sir,” Olcán said as he gave a respectful half bow and sat down in front of the desk as the Apostle did the same.

“I was expecting Odin,” the Apostle said calmly with a strong voice, “but I’m sure that you will let me know why I have the pleasure of addressing you.  Now, you know what I want to hear, so let’s have it and we can both move on.”

“The mission was a complete success,” Olcán said in his usual tone, “the target was taken out and no one else.”

“Good,” the Apostle answered simply, “I have to commend you and the others on the execution of this mission.  When I first heard of it, I was worried about our chances of success.  The mission itself must have been difficult.”

“This is what I do sir,” Olcán answered with his usual tone, “and that man had to be taken out.  Anyone who makes a deal with the Devil has forfeited his right to share this world with those who follow God.”

“Do you hate them Olcán,” the Apostle asked in a strong voice mingled with mild concern.

Olcán was silent.  He sat still in his chair staring forward, never breaking eye contact with the man across from him.  The Apostle mirrored Olcán’s stare, knowing that eventually Olcán would answer his question.

“Sir,” Olcán answered still maintaining his usual tone, “you know that the mission is always my first priority.  I will never let any ill feelings I might have interfere with that.”

“I understand that,” the Apostle answered, “but I need to know that those ill feelings will not overpower you.  If we harbor anything apart from pure feelings, then we are no better than what we are called upon to fight.  It’s…”

“The price we pay for doing the work of God,” Olcán finished, “I know that sir, you’ve told me many times.  You know that I’m focused.”

“It’s not your focus that concerns me Olcán,” the Apostle answered, “but your motives.”

“They are pure sir,” Olcán said.

“And what of the other group that bears your disdain,” the Apostle asked in a strong voice with a hint of concern, “do you harbor ill feelings toward them as well?”

“I’ve come to terms with the past.” Olcán answered.

“Have you?” the Apostle asked making a slight gesture to Olcán’s right side earning a slight wince.

“I have enough,” Olcán answered quickly and spitefully.

“I couldn’t help but overhear you talking outside,” the Apostle said inwardly deciding to move on with the interview, “and your presence here rather than the man who was in charge of the operation prompts me to ask what happened to Odin.”

“Everything went as planned up to the escape,” Olcán said inwardly grateful to be moving on and returning to his usual tone, “Dieter was in his seat and made sure that there was validity in the voice recordings that we used.  But when we met up with him after the mission,” Olcán paused, obviously a little embarrassed at admitting what happened next,  “our exit route was blocked and we realized that there was no way we were going to be able to walk out without leaving the rifle or some innocent bodies behind.”

“I see,” the Apostle said, “and what was the result?”

“We realized,” Olcán continued, “that one of us was going to have to distract the security at least long enough for the rest of us to get out.  We knew that Dieter needed to be back here as soon as possible and couldn’t risk being caught.  Then Odin volunteered to go and I didn’t have time to argue with him.”

“I take it that Odin did the best he could at being a distraction,” the Apostle said already knowing the answer.

“And I ‘m sure that he is continuing to be a distraction in the penal system,” Olcán said, “I’m sure I’m not alone in hoping he gets back soon.”

“We all feel the same way,” the Apostle said, “but I am glad to know that the mission was successful.  I can only imagine what would have happened if he had become President.  I don’t know if we would have been able to stop him had he reached that point.”

“We would have found a way,” Olcán answered, “but it would have been a lot more difficult and probably with a larger body count.”

“That,” the Apostle replied, “is one of the many reasons why our Watchers are so invaluable to this organization.”

“They have their uses,” Olcán replied with a hint of resentment, “few though they may be.”

“Olcán,” the Apostle said firmly but doing his best to convey honest concern, “you can’t let what happened in the past forever control how you feel and act.  The past is gone, and it is essential that we learn from it., but you must live in the present.”

“My past,” Olcán responded, “is what has made my present.  I act the way I do because I have learned from the past.  I can’t help it if the results are somewhat undesirable.”

“Very well,” the Apostle said knowing full well from previous conversations that this issue wouldn’t be resolved any time soon, “you have two weeks of holiday starting tomorrow.”

“I will only take one,” Olcán answered in his usual strong voice.

“Do you want to spend it off the island?” the Apostle asked.

“No,” Olcán answered, “I’m fine here.”

“You concern me Olcán,” the Apostle said, “it’s been years since you’ve left the island for any reason other than a mission.  I encourage everyone here to use the resources we have to go out and see as much of this beautiful world as possible.  Why don’t you take advantage of this?”

“With all due respect sir,” Olcán answered in a respectful tone, “I have seen much of the world already, and I prefer to stay here.  I have all I could ever need right here, and I should help out with Xander, Angus, and Malcolm until Odin gets back.  I would also like to see how Declan is progressing in his training since I will be vouching for him soon.”

“I see your point,” the Apostle said, “although if you ever have some time when you have holiday and no obligations here, I suggest you tag along with Tadeas.”

“I will think about it,” Olcán answered.

“If you have nothing further to add,” the Apostle said, “you are dismissed.”

“Thank you sir,” Olcán said as he stood up and the Apostle did the same, “I will be around here if you need me for anything.”

“Enjoy your holiday,” the Apostle said, “with all you did for your last mission, you have certainly earned some time off.  May the light within…”

“Drive away the darkness without.”  Olcán replied before turning around, walking to the door, and beginning to open it.

“One more thing,” the Apostle called out to Olcán, “stop by the Combat Room.  O’Connell will want to know that you are back safely.”

“I will be sure to do that,” Olcán answered, “thanks for letting me know where he is.”

The Apostle nodded, and Olcán exited the chamber.  He walked back down the stairs and made his way over the grounds, overhearing teachers inside various classrooms as he passed them.  Some of them were talking about traditional subjects such as math, science, or history; others were talking about subjects as diverse as military history and modern vernacular.

He made his way across a patch of open ground where several people were sitting on benches reading, talking, and otherwise engaged.  Olcán moved by unnoticed until he was spotted by a small group of children.  Three skinny red-haired boys were out in the field playing together when they spotted him approaching.  In no time at all, the three boys ran over to Olcán and wrapped their arms around his neck.

“Hey boys,” Olcán said happily as he hugged the three boys when they came up to him.  They were Odin and Alicia’s three sons, Xander was nine, Angus seven, and Malcolm five.  They knew Olcán very well through his friendship with their father, and they all loved him.

“Have you been good for Gifted Murphy while your dad and I have been away?” Olcán asked the boys.

“Yes,” Xander answered in a voice that was equal parts Scottish and Australian while his younger brothers continued to squeeze Olcán, “is dad back yet?”

“No, not yet,” Olcán answered, careful to keep the same upbeat tone he had been using, “but he told me that he will be back soon.  Until he gets back, you three need to keep being good for Gifted Murphy and stay out of trouble.”

The three boys laughed and nodded, then Olcán stood up.  Malcolm and Angus continued holding onto him and laughed as they went up into the air with their arms wrapped around Olcán’s strong neck.  Olcán spun around once and then wrestled them to the ground, loosening their grip by tickling them until they released him.

“You boys go and play,” an older silver-haired woman said in an Irish accent, “Mr. Olcán needs to be going.”

The three boys laughed again before running off to another spot on the grounds and starting to play with some of the other kids.  Olcán walked up to the woman and the two of them embraced.

“Hello Gifted Murphy,” Olcán said once again speaking in Irish Gaelic, “was Xander telling the truth?”

“Oh yes,” she answered in the same language, “they’ve been perfectly well behaved.  They just have so much energy” she sighed, “I’m getting too old to handle children.”

“Please,” Olcán scoffed, “Odin’s boys can be a handful, but you’ll never be too old to handle children.  Mother Theresa would’ve had trouble with those boys.”

“That’s probably true,” she said laughing, “they’re so much like their parents.”

“What makes you say that?” Olcán asked.

“They’re wild and energetic like their father,” she said, “and at the same time they’re polite and well-behaved like their mother.”

“You’ve got a point there,” Olcán replied, “complementary opposites really do make for the best combinations.”  Gifted Murphy nodded.

“Are you going to see O’Connell?” she asked, Olcán nodded.  “I know he’ll want to be seeing you, go on down.”  Olcán gave her a kiss on the forehead and was on his way.

There was a staircase leading down inside the building adjacent to the open ground.  As he went down the stairs, he could hear the sounds of fists, feet, and legs hitting punching bags, jump ropes repeatedly striking the ground, several men yelling out instructions and criticisms, and bodies slamming onto mats.

Olcán got to the bottom of the stairs where a simple door stood against a wall of stone.  Above the door was an intricately carved wooden sign with the words “Abandon all hope ye who enter here” carved in large imposing letters and surrounded by relief-carved skulls with a large fire behind them.  Olcán pounded the sign with his fist before opening the door and walking into what was officially known in the Monastery as the Combat Room, but what Olcán and the others who trained there called The Pit.

Hard Rock and Heavy Metal music played over speakers throughout the room.  The walls were decorated with various posters.  Some were of boxers, including Olcán’s personal favorite Rocky Marciano.  Other posters showed Bruce Lee and other famous martial artists and MMA fighters.

Very little floor space in the room was visible.  There was a full-size boxing ring in one part, with a complete Mixed Martial Arts-style octagon-shaped cage at the other end.  There were four traditional punching bags, four Thai-style ones, a row of Mook Jongs, and half a dozen speed bags distributed about the room.  There was another area that was entirely matted where several men and boys of different ages were practicing rolls and throwing moves, wrestling and grappling each other in hard and almost inhumane brutal training.

The only feature in the room not specifically dedicated to combat training, was an interlocking series of wooden plaques with several name plates screwed on.

A few older men around the room were coaching and offering instruction.  Olcán walked toward a man a few inches taller than him with scraggly silver hair that went down to the base of his neck, a similar build to Olcán, and an appearance so grizzled that he looked as though he had been living in the woods since St. Oliver Plunkett's final sermon.  He was standing outside the boxing ring barking out instructions to a sixteen-year-old boy sparring inside.

“Keep your guard up,” the grizzled man barked out in an Irish brogue that matched his appearance, “chin down and hands up boyo, remember that!”

“You’d better do what he says,” Olcán spoke up loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, “if you get him really mad he will jump in there himself and make sure that you never ignore him again.”

The man paused for a moment, and then looked at the stopwatch he was holding.

“Time!” he yelled out, “go in the corner and relax for a bit!  But don’t spend too much time sitting on your arse!”

“Little wolf,” the man said in Irish Gaelic after turning around to face Olcán.

“O’Connell” Olcán said and the two of them shared a strong embrace.

“So I take it that the mission was a success?” O’Connell asked continuing to speak in Gaelic.

“Now I thought you knew me better than that,” Olcán answered in Gaelic as they came apart, “after all, I was brought up by the best.”

“You give me too much credit Little Wolf,” O’Connell answered with a smile as he placed a hand on Olcán’s shoulder, “but I’m glad that whatever you learned from me you are putting to good use.”

“Absolutely,” Olcán said before turning to look into the ring and getting his first good look at the boy’s sparring partner, “Declan?”

“Oi master,” the sparring partner, a twenty year old boy with long red hair tied back in a braid and brown eyes said in an Irish accent, “when did you get back?”

“Just now,” Olcán answered, “what are you doing here?  Is this the best way you can get ready for your trials?”

“Oh no,” Declan said quickly and apologetically, “I had some time off and O’Connell asked if I could help him with Nathaniel for a while.”

“Okay,” Olcán said turning to face O’Connell, “once you’re through here would you mind if I take Declan off your hands for a while?”

“Not at all Little Wolf,” O’Connell said, he gave Olcán a smile then turned to face Declan and Nathaniel in the ring, “GO!”

He then hit the stopwatch and the two of them went back to sparring while Olcán watched and helped O’Connell with his advice and critiques.

[ryqoshay]

How did u think of the username ryqoshay?

The tl;dr version is that I was tired of Ricochet typically being taken in the games I was playing years ago and decided to rework it into something a bit more unique. And she grew into something more.

The full story will be under the cut as my trips down nostalgia lane tend to run long.

Ricochet started off as a character I created for a story I was writing years ago based on games I played as a child. The games were not electronic, rather based around physical toys and the characters and events were made up on the spot by my friend and I.

While our games generally focused on battles and conflict between two established groups, the story I decided to write focused more on the characters of the protagonist group and their interactions. Worth mentioning here that the focus group was a crew of mercenaries as it will come into play later. I realized that the current cast was comprised mainly of front line fighters and wanted to flesh out the team with some back line and support members; medical, recon, intel, etc.

Enter Ricochet. I liked the idea of taking a stereotypical stoic and battle-hardened sniper character and turning it on its head by making a hyperactive, adorable little girl. A character whose slightly warped idea of cute included heavy weaponry and thus treated her gun like a teddy bear, even going so far as bringing it to bed with her.

The name itself had a dual meaning as it referred both to how she was always “bouncing off the walls” and an intentionally ironic reference to a typically undesirable outcome for a sniper. Her given name at the time was Rebecca; Becky is fine, but don’t call her Becca or Reba.

I don’t recall if I addressed her parents in this iteration, but Rico entered the team under the care of Tackleberry. Yes, that Tackleberry; he was my friend’s favorite character from Police Academy, though I believe what I’ve turned him into maintains only the name and obsession with weapons. I already had him as the former legal guardian of another character, so I figured giving him someone new to oversee would be fine.

Then I stopped writing that story. And it remains on indefinite hiatus to this day.

City of Heroes was released and a friend convinced me to join. I was drawing a blank in character development when I stumbled across the Assault Rifle/Devices build and Rico jumped up out of my memories. The name Ricochet was taken so I tacked on -chan to the end as I was quite addicted to anime by this point in my life. This also gave me the excuse to weeb out and insert random Japanese words into her speech patterns as her linage was now half Japanese and half U.S. born Caucasian.

I designed a diminutive, blonde girl sporting high twintails and a dark purple flak jacket  outfit with black accents. Her short backstory described a her as having two heroes for parents and wanting to live up to her family legacy. And as said parents were still around, Tack dropped out of the picture.

I liked Rico so much I started translating her over to other games as well as using her name in my overall online presence, as small as it was then. Ricochet itself was pretty much always taken, so I often had to modify the name in some way, be it by adding -chan or shortening it to Rico or whatever.

Then came the game changer; City of Villains. It came as no surprise that Ricochet was taken, but I was getting tired of using -chan and my other methods, so I decided to create something new. This would be the first time I used Ryqoshay, an intentional misspelling of Ricochet for a character.

Since CoV allowed a short backstory like its predecessor, I knew I had to come up with an in-universe reason for the name change; I also still fancied myself a writer, even though I hadn’t really written much in a while. I figured a villain might do well with a more tragic backstory than a hero, so I offed her parents. The character limit didn’t allow for specifics on the where, when, why and how, but I made sure to mention that she took the first letter of their names - Yuri and Quentin - to rename herself Ryqoshay.

It was at this point, Ryqo also finally received a family name, Bouteillevoix, and with it, a change in linage to half Japanese and half French. I don’t recall the specifics of how I settled on Bouteillevoix iteself, but I do remember liking the dissonance of an outspoken character bearing a name meaning “bottle voice” as if it were to be contained in some way.

For her aestetic design, I swapped out the black for white in her outfit to use the Dark Is Not Evil and Light Is Not Good tropes; dark purple remained, however. This also meant her hair went from blonde to black. And her twintails went from high to low in an attempt to appear a bit more mature, though she maintained her high energy personality.

Also, while not mentioned in her in-game bio, Tack was able to reenter the picture as a Commando, the highest level Summon of Ryqo’s Mastermind power set.

While I wasn’t actively writing stories about her, I was certainly fleshing her out as a character with notes and whatnot. Quentin and Yuri also got some attention as I ended up designing alternate dimension versions of them for me to play. And as the alt-oholic I am in MMORPGs, I also came up with some alternate dimension versions of Ryqo herself; Ryqoshot, a lonewolf gunslinger using the Corrupter’s Assault Rifle power set and Ryqoaraignée, an Arachnos Crab Spider build who was more closely aligned with Arachnos than her other versions.

With all of the alts I was creating, I decided to use the game’s guild mechanics to pass stuff among them. Thus, Ryqo’s Roughnecks was born, named after Rico’s Roughnecks of Starship Troopers fame. Joining members included L4t3ncy_0, a mechanical Mastermind; Recipere, -  Rx for short - a thug Mastermind who kept her crew alive with healing powers; Yozakura, a ninja Stalker serving as Ryqo’s bodyguard and Vivian Sexon, a dual-wielding Brute and villainous translation of a dual-wielding Scrapper from my CoH days.

Not long after, a friend invited me to join a game of D&D. The team needed a door kicker so I brought in Vivian as a brutish barbarian with a split personality, Sanguine, taking control when she raged. My intended two paragraph introduction quickly turned into two pages, which eventually turned into twenty and started translating over other Roughnecks; Ryqo included.

Ryqo dropped her sniper rifles in favor of a more theme appropriate bow and arrow. L4t3ncy_0′s call sign was changed to Nullsiver Luna and she became an artificer who struggled against the world’s tech limits. Recipere, not surprisingly, took on the role of a cleric. Yozakura kept her ninja trappings, but started playing by the Bodyguard Crush trope as I was deep into yuri shipping at that point thanks to the likes of Lucky Star and others.

Even after the game stalled out, I continued to work with the DM to build their world in which all of their games took place. The Roughnecks gained a permanent place in the timeline, extending both before and after Ryqo’s time as their leader, as well as a permanent base of operations, which eventually grows into a full fledged township later at the behest of Ryqo (spoilers should I ever get around to posting these stories.)

My online presence was growing and with it, Ryqo. She became my main when I returned to WoW, a Blood Elf Hunter running around with a giant Devilsaur as a pet; yes, she would think it was cute. (She was changed to Human when I followed by guild to another server that needed more Alliance players.) My Demon Hunter main in Diablo 3 was named Ryqoshay, as a surprise to absolutely none of my friends at the time.

Aion was a strange exception insofar as I wasn’t fond of the Ranger class for my primarily solo playstyle. I still made said ranger and of course named her Ryqoshay, but my main in that game was a Chanter known as Ameliorator, a more fanciful version of MedKit, the character for whom Tack was a legal guardian in the story mentioned above. However, I still played out the Ryqo persona on the forums because I enjoyed it and I’d long forgotten Med/Ame’s personality from that old story.

When Love Live started to take over my life and I found Sukutomo, I went with Ryqoshay as my screen name for reasons I don’t fully recall. I started this tumblr account as a way to post some “Idolsona” stuff where I translated Ryqo into a LL style idol, along with Yoza, Luna and a newer Roughneck, Flash Pyre. And when I started writing my fics, it was easy to use the account I already had here and then keep the name when I went over to AO3.

Hindsight being 20/20, I probably should have chosen Nico as my primary icon, as her appearance is closer to Ryqo’s than Maki’s, even if she wears her twintails high like Rico instead of Ryqo’s low tails. Neither Nico nor Maki have grey eyes as I’ve given Ryqo, so that wouldn’t fit, but none of the LL characters do thus far. That said, Maki prefers purple more than Nico and Ryqo isn’t much a fan of pink, so maybe that played into things? Perhaps someday I will commission one of my favorite artists to draw Ryqo as I envision her and start using her as my avatar, someday… maybe.

Also worth mentioning that NicoMaki has had a heavy influence on how I envision Ryqo and Yoza, and vice versa. Heck I’ve directly translated some NicoMaki doujin into scenes for my D&D story and sprinkled some RyqoYoza stuff into HtHaN. With HtHaM being a more D&D’ish setting, I may very well steal some stuff from my D&D story for it. Perhaps Luna or Vivian might make an appearance? I’ve already referenced Ryqo when Maki remembers hearing stories of an 11 year old girl taking over a mercenary guild. As always, I shall follow where my µ’s muse leads.

In conclusion, while Maki - with Nico very close behind - may hold a position as my favorite fictional character not created by me, Ryqo easily tops that position as my favorite overall; yes, the fact that I created her absolutely factors into this bias. There are reasons I don’t bring her up often - beyond using her as a screen name, posting through her persona on a few forums and the Idolsona thing - not the least of which include a fear of her being labeled a self-insert or Mary Sue or whatever, as I’ve seen some decidedly distasteful reactions to such characters online. But there is also the fact that the bulk of her development has been within a world not designed by me, but by one of my DMs, and I would want to ensure they would be fine with me posting stuff about said world; I’m sure they would be fine, but I haven’t gotten around to asking. Perhaps someday, I might post more about Ryqo. Perhaps writing more of HtHaM will inspire me to take my D&D story off hiatus, dust it off and have a talk with my DM about posting it. In the meantime, I will continue to use her namesake for my online and in-game presence because she is a character I hold very dear.

If you’ve read this far, thank you for joining me in my journey through nostalgia. And I hope this sufficiently addresses Anon’s question.

[votederpycausemufins]

Red: ch 3 Berries

This story is also posted on Ao3

Chloé visits Marinette’s home and designing happens.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Chloé did her best not to look nervous as she approached the Dupain-Cheng bakery. She may have been invited, but going to her former rival’s home was different to say the least, not to mention she was on Sabine’s bad side as far as she knew, and Marinette mom was someone you did not want to be on the bad side of.

    Chloé took a breath before opening the door to the bakery. The bell chimed and Sabine looked over. “Hello welcome to- oh, hello Chloé.”

    The blonde was surprised at the unexpected warmth in Sabine’s voice. Her best guess was that Marinette had told her mother that Chloé would be visiting, but it was still surprising there wasn’t a hint of anger in Sabine’s voice.

    Marinette came down the steps, nearly falling. “Chloé you’re here! Come on up!”

    Sabine turned to look at her daughter. “Would you like me to bring any treats up? I’ve got a fresh batch of strawberry crumble.”

    “Oh that’s perfect Maman! I’m actually designing a line based on different berries!”

    “You will have to show me when it is finished.”

    “I will Maman.” Marinette replied with a smile before dragging Chloé upstairs all the way to her room, which was tricky on the ladder.

    Chloé looked around the bedroom. The place was very… pink. In the one episode of Fill my Shoes, Chloé had seen Marinette’s room appear, and it looked pretty much the same, but the area around her computer looked different. “It looks empty over there.”

    Marinette briefly looked upset. “I’m uh… redecorating that area.”

    That’s right, Chloé recalled, that’s where Adrien’s pictures had been. Another sign about how Marinette liked Adrien, but of course she didn’t anymore after what he had done. “Well maybe you should put your sketches there.”

    Marinette tilted her head as she looked at the area. “You’re probably right. Could you grab my sketchbook?” Chloé didn’t move and after a few seconds staring at the wall, Marinette turned to look and the blonde. “Oh right, you’re not Alya. It’s fine if you don’t want to help.”

    “No, I would grab it for you, but not only don’t know where it is, I also still remember last time I tried taking it.”

    Marinette covered her mouth. “Oh that’s right! I completely forgot!”

    “Here is it Marinette!” Tikki came flying over dragging the sketchbook along in the air.

    “That looks heavy” Chloé commented, grabbing it from the kwami to give to Marinette.

    “Just a little. I’m stronger than I look.”

    Chloé gave a nod as Marinette carefully took out some pages. “Those don’t look like some of your best work, why bother putting them up?”

    Marinette shrugged. “I guess I’m just paranoid with everything that’s been happening. It’s better if I put out the worse stuff in case someone tries stealing it.”

    “That’s pretty clever. Like with your signature that looks like a design.”

    “Yeah, I started designing them with that after Adrien’s birthday.”

    Chloé’s eyes widened. “So that scarf was made by you! Of course his father wouldn’t wouldn’t give him a present like that. Ugh, he’s as bad as Hawkmoth sometimes.”

    Marinette gave a small laugh. “I actually thought he was Hawkmoth until he was akumatized.”

    “Right. So, you said you’ve been doing some designs?”

    “Oh, yes!” Marinette smiled and opened her sketchbook to near the back. “I’ve finished blueberry, strawberry and raspberry. I’m still working on cranberry.”

    Chloé looked at the designs. She had to admit, they did look nice. “These mainly seem more feminine. Anything a bit more masculine?”

    “Well, the berry theme seems more oriented to dresses and other ‘feminine’ styles.”

    Chloé studied the designs for a little bit more before handing the sketchbook back. “Maybe counterpart outfits, like bilberry and bramble berry.”

    “Oh! That’s a good idea! What about strawberry and cranberry?” Marinette asked, grabbing a pencil and quickly writing some notes.”

    Chloé pauses, thinking for a bit. “Well currant for cranberry, but strawberry is a bit harder. Maybe… lychee? Do you know what that is?”

    “Yes, my uncle has made some recipes with Lychee, though not too many. It’s mainly for deserts. But that’s a great idea for the counterpart to strawberry!”

    “Now if there were only something yellow.” Chloé said quietly, though loud enough Marinette heard.

    “Well, bananas are classified as berries actually.”

    “Look, yellow is okay, but actually picturing a banana is a line I will not cross!” Chloé states firmly, crossing her arms.

    “That makes sense. And I know it’s not yellow, but I may have made a design or two for you. I’ve done at least one for everyone in the class. Well except Lila.” Marinette gave a quick shrug and grabbed a different sketchbook. “It’s got some purple in it, but I could recolor it if I make it.”

    Chloé took the sketchbook that was handed to her. It looked… nice. The design had her with a long sleeved dress shirt with the cuffs slightly rolled up. Over it was a vest like shirt. It was a light lavender and in the middle there was a white and purple diamond design. The pants were a simple middle grey tone. The shoes were the same color or a little darker with lavender and white accents in the same diamond pattern.

    “This is… amazing. Can you make this for me actually?” Chloé looked up from the sketchbook. “But change the colors. The purples make yellows and the white in the designs can be lavender.”

    Marinette looked shocked. “Wait, really?”

    “Well various magazines say changing how you dress can help change how you act.”

    “Alright, I guess I’ll redraw it with those colors. I might change the design to better fit them, so if I do, I can send you a picture! But wait…” Marinette turned to look at Chloé after turning to her designing area. “I don’t have your phone number.”

    “Ugh, that’s right… fine, give me a piece of paper. Just make sure you get rid of it once it’s in your phone. I don’t want anyone else getting it. Adrien and Sabrina are already enough. I want to block Adrien, but it might be suspicious.”

    “You could just do it anyway.” Marinette suggested.

    “No, no. It could make him worse. Besides, who knows if it could be useful in the future. Now, let’s stop talking about him. So, you’re working on those berry designs?”

    “Right! Designing!” Marinette grabbed her sketchbook but fumbled with it, somehow managing to smack it, flinging it towards Chloé and hitting her in the face.

    “Dupain-Cheng!” Marinette flinched at the yell. “How are you so graceful as Ladybug and so clumsy as you?!”

    Marinette gave a small sigh of relief that Chloé wasn’t being mean then listening as the blonde continued. “Look, we’re friends now I guess, so I’m not going to be too mean outside of school. But at school I will be mean. I have appearances to upkeep.”

    “Is that why you acted mean when you invited me to your table?” Marinette raised an eyebrow.

    “Yes, exactly. I’m known as a bully, especially yours, and if I was suddenly just nice, it would be worse than half nice.”

    “I guess, though you don’t really have to pretend to completely like me.”

    “What’s that supposed to mean?!” Chloé glared at Marinette before her eyes softened. “Oh, you mean that. Look I’m still getting used to having a real friend. Which we have only been for a day.”

    “Maybe, but you’ve been nicer to me than anyone else in our class in the past week.”

    Suddenly Tikki flew away and hid as the trapdoor opened to Sabine. “Here are the treats girls.”

    “Thank you Mme. Dupain-Cheng.” Chloé thanked Sabine and took the platter from her.

    “I’m just glad Marinette has someone coming over again.”

    Chloé nodded and took the treats over to Marinette as Sabine went back down. As the designer picked up one piece, Chloé picked up another. “To new friendships I suppose.”

    “Right, to new friendships.” Marinette nodded, then pressed her piece against Chloé’s for a moment as if they were clinking glasses after a toast before she took a bite.

    Chloè took a bite of her own and was amazed at how it tasted. She barely ate anything from the bakery if she could help it, but she had to admit, everything they made was delicious. “This is amazing!”

    Marinette laughed. “It must be if you’re talking with your mouth full.”

    “Oh shut up!” Chloé said, failing to stifle a laugh, proceeding to playfully push Marinette a little. It took her back to their first year of school together. Well it wasn’t quite school. It was a day of daycare while their parents were working together on something. It was the first and last time they were together before Chloé really started to act like a bully. Just before her mother left for her nearly permanent move to America.

    “Thanks Marinette. For letting me have the chance to be your friend.”

    Marinette gave a small smile. “I’m glad you’re willing to change.”

    The two gave a quick hug before continuing their time together, eventually losing track of how late it was getting, leading to Chloé calling her father to say she was staying over, which was fine since tomorrow they didn’t have school.

    Chloé was surprised to find that Marinette had some Queen Bee pajamas, though she seemed to have a set for each of the heroes. Marinette dressed herself in what was likely her regular pajamas. The designer then set up a place on the floor with plenty of blankets and pillows. “There, I can sleep here and you can have the bed.”

    “Thanks Marinette.” Chloé smiled before getting into the bed. They were just getting situated and ready to sleep, when out of nowhere, there was a knock on the door. The door to the balcony.

[fandom-imagination-ss]

Requested by sparkle -light : Will you please do an imagine based on the scene between Elijah and gia where he teaches her how to fight and Hayley walks in (2x04), but its Klaus and reader instead and Caroline walks in? thanks!

Authors note : I am so Sorry that this took so long!! I also hope you enjoy it! I’m a huge Klaus and Caroline shipper! And I absolutely LOVE the Mikaelson brothers! Elijah, Klaus and Caroline deserve better! Hopefully you like this imagine!

⚠️ warning: Not really.

Number count: 1889

**********imagine **************** You know Klaus since he showed up in mystic falls. He has always found Caroline to be a beautiful vibrant women. You found Caroline too be a stuck up, perfectionist. But you Knew it was because she doubted herself. So you tried not to let her annoy you. It helped that you weren’t friends with Caroline so you didn’t spend much time with her. Everyone who knows Klaus knows he fancy Caroline since meeting her. When klaus met you. He was attracted too your kindness. Unlike Elena, Caroline, basically everyone connected to the doppelgänger Elena. You didn’t have a twisted agenda. Caroline trying too save her boyfriend from Klaus. (You understood why everyone hated Klaus but you saw thru him. Seeing the real Klaus) You were the only person Klaus could talk to. Without having a hidden agenda. You didn’t want blood, or money or anything all you wanted too do was talk about your passions Art, music , History. And Klaus was intoxicated by your curious mind. And your Kind heart. Everyone tried too convince you too stay away from him. Elena, Caroline, Tyler, Jeremy, Damon, Bonnie, the only one who almost convinced you was Stefan. But he got distracted By Elena and Damon so you were able too leave the conversation.

You Simply saw Klaus as Klaus. A Monster. But redeemable. He’s siblings soon realized you were a good inferences on their baby brother so they fully accepted you into their little family. His siblings Elijah , and Rebecca enjoyed your company. Kol was fascinated by your loyal and gentle heart. Rebecca Enjoyed your innocence and Taste in fashion. Elijah for your Mind and how you were Showing Klaus the world for the first time. when graduation happened. Klaus declared to Caroline that she might of loved Tyler but he intended to be her last love. You overheard and was swooned hearing it. And was stunned seeing how Caroline didn’t take up Klaus offer. Klaus decided for a graduation present he would give Caroline a bunch of money. And Give you a Plane ticket to New Orleans. Klaus offered the world too both Caroline and yourself. She didn’t accept. But you did. You a human girl proved over and over again that Klaus was redeemable. Elijah and Rebecca accepted you as a member of the family. Rebecca shopped with you. Making you gain more confidence. Elijah helped you study for tests at the local collage you attended. You were all a complicated family the happiness was destroyed by accident. Davina and Kol did a spell, trying too get ride of Klaus The spell was suppose to Kill him instantly . But it hit you. Klaus barely shoved blood down your throat before you died. And when you woke up. He didn’t give you a option too other die a human or too be turned. You woke up. And Klaus instantly shoved human blood down your throat. Simply saying “I can’t live without you Y/n. Forgive me.” Three months passed. Your “day time ring” was a beautiful simple Ruby necklace. Klaus said it use to be worn by a beautiful princess who was always surrounded by handsome suitors. Today klaus was back. Since becoming a vampire you changed. Not just physically but mentally. You were still caring and the gentlest soul Klaus ever met. But now your confidence skyrocketed. But your fighting skills? Not so much! Klaus insisted on Training you too fight. You tried convincing Klaus to let Elijah to teach you. Mainly since you figured Elijah would be a kinder more gentle teacher vs Klaus. You almost had him convinced till he got into a heated debate with Caroline who dating Stefan or was trying too? Honestly Caroline love life was almost as complicated as Elena’s love life. But either way Klaus refused to listen too either you or Elijah when you both suggested to let him teach you. So here you are! standing in a closed room. Everyone was out enjoying the bright beautiful day. While Klaus was huffing and puffing annoyed at Caroline, he just returned from Mystic falls where he got into a huge debut with Caroline about Elena. And Stefan. You tried staying out of all topics surrounding Elena. Mainly because you couldn’t find the attraction both Salvator brothers had for her. Or what Matt saw in her. You aren’t close with Caroline or Elena. Bonnie on the other hand? You were great friends with Bonnie!. Either way you aren’t going too have a great practice with Klaus. He was frustrated and you knew this wasn’t going too end up with you being sore. And begging for Elijah too take over.!

Klaus spoke up, snapping you out of your thoughts. Too hear His British charming accent. It always made you lean a bit closer to hear him speak. you loved hearing him talk. When you first became friends with Klaus you got sick. And Klaus read the Hobbit too you. While you rested in bed. So you listened too him whenever possible. Especially now when you here. About too Fight Him. “you are my responsibility, Y/N. There will be hundreds of people who would love too rip you too pieces just because of Me.” Klaus walked around you. Trying to frighten you. It didn’t work. Even when you were human and his vines turned all black around his eyes. You were’t scared of him. Klaus grabbed your shoulder turning you around too face him. “Fighting is rhythm. There is a music , there is a pattern. You have too fight. Or you will die!” You rolled your eyes, pushing his hands off your shoulders, “Why? You can just fight them? Besides who would dare fight me? Everyone is terrified of you!” “exactly. What would happen if the wolves. Capture you too get too me? Or the witches?” Sighing heavily you understood. Klaus can’t protect you from everything. Even those you knew no one would be stupid enough too risk the Rath of Klaus. You simply Nodded your head fast., taking a step back to take a stance saying you were ready. Klaus grinned as you swinger a pouch at him. He easily blocked it. “You have too do it better! Y/N!” Swinging your fist towards your best friend, to only have it caught it with ease. Klaus pinned you against a brick wall. Pressing you against It. Moving your hair from your shoulders. He waited a moment just looking at you till he spoke in a low voice. “Come Now love. You can do better then that.”

Breaking free from his grip. You turned yourself around, too shoved him hard, Klaus took three steps backwards as you charged him. He broke free from your attack. Screaming “ Do better y/n!” You charged again getting him this time. You Pinned Klaus against the same wall he pinned you at. Klaus grinned brightly feeling your hand at his heart. “Good.” Looking up at his eyes. His beautiful enchanting eyes. He grabbed your elbow. “Good. , you did good.. Don’t be afraid to go for the kill.” “I’m not going too rip your heart out!” Klaus grinned reaching up touching your face with his free hand. He’s eyes soften. He smiled softly looking at his favorite being on the entire planet. The sweet girl who has touched every member of his family. Who taught him how too change diapers for Hope. Who has personality helped him stay good. And showed him to change his ways. He vowed too protect you for the rest of your life. A human mortal life. Which was ruined. But now he had too break the sweetness of you.. To help you survive where everyone outside of the house. He and his family had thousands of enemies now he had too teach you too survive. Looking down at your hand right in front of his hand hand. Breathing deeply you couldn’t harm Klaus not in the way he wanted you too. He noticed your hesitation. He sighed moving his hand too your wrist. Looking at you. “You have too.. to Survive.” Shaking your head fast. “Nope.. I can’t-“ moving your hand back he placed it back too his Chest as he reached back placing your hand back too his Chest. “You have too.. our enemies wont take it easy just because your beautiful.” “Klaus.. I can’t-“ “Love.. Do it!” You closed your eyes for a second before you pushed your hand thru his cage. Hearing him groaning loudly you opened your eyes seeing him gasping for air. Until he pulled you into a kiss. Which started you. It made you stop holding his heart as he cupped your face. You pulled back looking at him. Klaus looked at you valuable you couldn’t believe he kissed you. And you couldn’t believe how. Fragile he looked. You never seen him look so valuable. You grabbed his face with both hands pulling him into another kiss. Vampires feel things ten times more then humans. A little crush felt like full blown love. And being in love is incredible. You pulled back. Looking at Klaus ripping his shirt completely off. He grinned flashing that devilish smile. Before pulling you into another kiss. He turned you both around fast so your back was against the wall. As he ripped your shirt off before kissing you back. You smiled into the kiss as he pressed himself close too you. “Klaus?” You both pulled back. Stunned seeing Caroline standing there. Right at the doorway. You quickly tried to close together your ripped apart your shirt too have some Dignity. Also so Caroline doesn’t notice your Black sport bra. Klaus sighed heavily as he spoke “what is it Caroline?” “I need Help. Stefan is missing.” Klaus surprised you. And Caroline with his response “well. I’m a tad busy at the moment Caroline.” Caroline rolled her eyes saying she was serious she needed his help when she noticed you. “Holly Crap! Y/N you’re a vampire?” Nodding your head weakly she shook her head stepping closer too Klaus, “Klaus I need your help please!” Klaus sighed heavily as he spoke, “like always Caroline your timing is horrible!” He turned too face you kissing you. It was a quick kiss but he made sure it was passionate. As he cupped your face, “I’ll find you in a bit. After Caroline and her dramatic life dilemma is done. Then we can finish.” “training or this?” You asked as he grinned ignoring Carolines huffs and Puffs as he kissed you quickly, “Both.” You laughed at that as Klaus escorted Caroline out of the room. You breathed deeply and debated on other going for a 7 mile run too work out your now Frustration or a freezing cold shower!. You decided both.

[btsfash]

BTS JHOPE Style/Fashion Analysis

Absolutely no one asked for this but I still DELIVERED! Also I’m a new account and I’m planning on making similar posts for the other six members as well as outfit scenarios in the future but now... to start with our Fashion King... here’s my take on how he creates his looks, styles he reaches for the most often and what to do if you want to recreate his looks! 

(warning: text/image heavy post ahead) ☆ (masterlist)

Post Contents:

1.) Introduction and main points 

2.) Accessories 

3.) Shoes 

4.) Building Hoseok inspired looks 

5.) Personal favorite airport fashion/looks he’s chosen

6.) Favorite stage fashion 

7.) How I style scenario outfits for Hoseok 

Introduction: Hoseok’s an aquarius all the way and I definitely think the curiosity/creativity of his sign is reflected in his fashion. His style has a lot of of hip hop and streetwear influence, but recently he’s been wearing a lot of more relaxed pieces in earth tones. Hobi’s favorite color has always been green and recently he’s been wearing a lot of olive green bomber jackets and shirts (likely inspired by Kanye West’s YEEZY and Kids See Ghosts collections). Just look at his hotel closet he recently showed us on vlive….

(also isn’t he sweet … he unpacks and hangs up all of his clothes in the hotel room i love our tidy baby :’( !!)

Overview: before i get into more elaborate analysis of his fashion style here are some common brands, styles and color combination typically wears!

1.) color combinations he wears often: black/white/green, monochrome, black/white/red, olive green/dark brown/black or dark grey, light blue/grey/white, navy/olive green/bright green, navy/red/white 

2.) common themes in many of his outfits: teddy bear material jackets/hats, printed oversized scarves, dr martens 1460′s or 1461′s, dad sneakers, yeezy slides/waverunners, jordan 1′s, crossbody bags, backpacks, simple silver chains and pendants, kangol hats, bucket hats, sunglasses with colorful lenses, nylon windbreakers, black or green bomber jackets, light wash denim jeans, shoelaces in contrasting colors, bags/accessories made from clear material 

3.) brands he wears often: supreme, levi’s, yeezy, dr martens, balenciaga, ready made, fear of god, kids see ghosts, kaws collaborations, jordan, off-white, a cold wall, vetements, puma, chanel, gucci

Accessories: Hoseok tends to accessorize his outfits pretty heavily and frequently wears eye catching sunglasses, jewelry, belts and bags. I admire his style a lot because he can pull off very bold looks that are still true to his roots as a hip hop dancer. Basically sunglasses with colorful lenses, chain necklaces and rings all are in line with Hobi’s personal style. Unlike the other members, Hobi doesn’t have pierced ears so he usually won’t wear earrings unless they’re clip on or for a concept. His reason for not piercing them is that he “loves his ears and wants to keep the purity of them”-- WHEN WILL HE STOP BEING SO CUTE I’M SMITTEN!!! The key to Hobi’s style therefore lies in other types of accessories so here are some of his more iconic accessories/items I’ve noticed he reaches for a lot:

1.) Glasses 

Hobi tends to either reach for glasses with either a horn rimmed style or simple aviators with a thin metal frame. He’ll usually pair the former with a more clean and boyish look like with a cardigan and a tee and the latter with a more streetwear inspired look. 

2.) Sunglasses

(cr: HOPRINCE)

IMO out of everything he wears Hobi’s sunglasses are probably the most out there and set his style apart from the other members in terms of recognizability. He tends to choose sunglasses with plastic and thicker rims that usually have a designer logo on the side (frequently Off-White or Chanel). On stage he’s usually styled with sunglasses that have see through colorful lenses with thinner, metal frames. 

3.) Bags

(cr: BABY TAETAE) 

(cr: SUGA MOUNTAIN) 

(cr: Hopefully)

Hobie has a lot of different bags he takes to the airport but something I’ve noticed is that he’ll often wear a completely neutral colored outfit and then pair it with a colorful bag to top off the look. This is a good guideline to work with if you want to dress in a way that emulates his style! 

4.) Hats/Headgear 

(cr: GlossBeat)

(cr: HOPE SMILING)

(cr: FEBRUARY)

(cr: HOPEYES)

The beanies that Hobi wears are usually solid color or have minimal patterning. The hat style he seems to wear the most often are nylon bucket hats or wool bucket hats from kangol. Oftentimes if he’s wearing a bucket hat with a logo on it he’ll also match the color of the logo somewhere else in his outfit. Also, he occasionally wears visors in the summer and cutely parts his hair down the middle when he does 💚💚💚

Shoes: Hoseok’s shoes deserve their own category entirely because  Hoseok’s 100% a sneaker enthusiast and so am I. He tends to wear sneakers more often than any other type of shoe so I’ll mainly be discussing his sneaker collection and preferences here! 

1.) His current shoe rotation during the Speak Yourself tour

(source: BTS_twt)

I LOVE the shoes Hobi’s been wearing currently! On tour he brought a couple pairs of jordan 1′s (2 of the travis scott collab jordans and the “not for resale” 1′s in brick red) as well as a grey and white pair of dunks. He’s also been wearing more Louis Vuitton pieces since their menswear has taken on a more streetwear edge when they made Virgil Abloh the new creative director. In the first pic he shows us most of his shoes which include a really casual pair of LV sandals as well has some black and white dr martens 1461 oxfords. He also brought along a black and white pair of low top sneakers by XVESSEL. 

2.) Hobi’s most worn sneakers 

(cr: bts0715 on tumblr) 

These are the first few styles that came to my mind when I think about Hobi’s sneaker rotation. Hobi occasionally wears puma’s outside of ad campaigns and he wore vans in the past more often than he does currently. He tends to prefer nike/jordan brand over adidas and the most common silhouettes he wears are air force one lows (usually from the Off-White collaborations) and he wears Jordan 1′s more than any other Jordan. He also prefers more rare Jordan 1 styles that fetch high resale prices (example: the travis scott jordans and the off-white breds). His luxury sneakers tend to be the “dad” style like his Balenciaga Triple S’s and some of his Gucci sneakers. 

When looking for similar shoes to what Hobi wears I suggest either simple, white nike air force 1′s or looking for dad sneakers. I also recommend dr martens boots and oxfords. Hobi also tends to like colorful sneakers that aren’t too over the top and mostly have a neutral tone to them. He also likes sneakers in a highlighter green color paired with black or dark neutral tones! 

Building the look: something I notice Hobi’s style is that he usually keeps the color palettes of his outfits within 2-4 colors. He’ll often find pieces with small colorful accents and match them together even though they’re from different brands. I think this fit is a perfect example of how Hobi styles himself:

Even though this is an outfit he wore for a RUN!BTS challenge, I still think there a lot of takeaways here that are also in other Hobi outfits. Here Hobi took the red tones from his shoes, bag, jacket, beanie and even down to the accent color on his shirt collar to pull the look together. The green from the bag is in the same shade range as the blues and reds and he even matches the blue tones on the jacket to his jeans and shoes. I also think this look combines the three things you see in a lot of Hobi’s outfits which are usually...

1.) something cute and boyish: the striped shirt and the little beanie are a very fresh and a common look among male idols

2.) something urban or industrial: the cut of the pants makes them look like high end workwear. Hoseok tends to wear a lot of utility inspired pieces (cough cough…. his dior outfit from the speak yourself tour omg) so looking for pieces with these influences will have you dressing like our fashion king in no time.

3.) something very expensive: the members have said themselves before that Hoseok tends to have to most expensive clothes. Our multimillionare king has a gucci carry on and balenciaga sneakers here. While I wish I had $800 to drop on shoes like he does there are a lot of affordable bags and dad sneakers that can be used to achieve the same silhouettes that Hoseok has going on in his normal fits

Hobie is so matchy matchy with his outfits frequently he’ll even change the color of his shoelaces to match another color in his fit (example: the white laces on his black boots and the red laces on his jordans). To me this is really reminiscent of the types of editorials shot in Hypebeast magazine. At the end of the day Hoseok and other people who dress in a streetwear style are usually wearing outfits consisting of t shirts, sweats, hoodies and other casual items. The accessories and attention to detail are what set these looks apart from each other and in my opinion Hoseok has a really good eye for the types of minute details that can really make a streetwear fit elevated. He often mixes luxury bags, shoes and sunglasses with clothes that at face value often cost less than 200 dollars all while keeping to a very tight color palette. I think if I had to sum up Hoseok’s style I’d say he has great taste in sneakers and unconventional silhouettes and a really good eye for small details in color and fit.  

My Favorite Airport/Outfits chosen by Hoseok:

(cr: OHNEWS) I love how he rocks these black rim sunnies with an all black fit. This would be a really clean and easy look to recreate since all that’s needed is a black bomber, black jeans/a t shirt and colorful sunnies with black rims. I loved this look so much when he wore it that it was the first BTS look i ever tried to recreate :’)

(cr: Hopeyes) this look is MAJOR like you can see it’s an instance where he works with a tricolor palette and kills it. Another thing I really like here is how much this jacket reminds me of womenswear (specifically the I.AM.GIA pixie coat). I really admire that Hobi plays around with materials and silhouettes that read more feminine and unisex we love a KING who’s secure in his masculinity!!

(source: twitter) we all saw this coming but he looked amazing here and that’s facts. Also here’s one of the times he’s worn one of his famous “acorn pouch” mini bags on his waist uwu cutie

I worship his look from the boy with luv dance practice if ur reading this i’m probably crying over it right this second. he makes double denim look so effortlessly GOOD here and the pairing with the Nas tee, the jordan 1′s and the rainbow striped belt just works??? we love a fashion icon 

(cr: Hopeyes) i like this look a lot because it’s a bit unexpected from what he usually does! i love a good burberry print and the fact that it’s on a bucket hat makes it more fresh

(cr: Hope Crescent) this look is SO cute he looks so cuddly and again i love that he’s rocking a backpack that’s a bit more feminine

(source: twitter) listen….. this look is everything to me he’s so cute. the all white outfit + kangol hat + bright green bag …… (chef’s kiss) here hobi went for an almost totally white outfit with small black accents on the logos of his shirt and hat and then pulled the look together with a bright color pop. King of tricolor fits! 

(cr: Raymond Hall) hobie proving for the 2181994th time that he’s the CUTEST… I also love this look because it’s an example of Hobie’s more fresh and boyish looks he’s been wearing often these days but he still keeps it unexpected with the bag he’s carrying 

(cr: Hope Utopia) I live and breathe for this look.. his lil glasses and his big t shirt UWU i think this outfit is a good representation of the types of looks he’s been creating these days and it’s easy to recreate with things you might already own!

(cr: Hopeyes) another instance where he keeps it interesting. the lil visor with his red bangs is sososo cute

(cr: Jhopebox) this is a very quintessential Hobi fit to me. He tends to prefer nylon/windbreaker material the most and he often wears slides. 

(cr: SUGA POWDER) this look is so steazey i love how he reinterprets the yeezy boost 700′s (which u can switch out for any dark dad sneaker) in a really retro way. here he does the tricolor thing again and matches the tan of the shoe’s sole with a cap and the shades in his sunnies. i also think it’s super fashionable that the hem of his shirt hangs a lot lower than his jacket and it’s def a style note i’ve used from Hobie before 

My Favorite Stage/Schedules Outfits:

(cr: Hope Solstice & Hopeyes) I’d risk it all for fake love era Hoseok and that’s that

(cr: Dispatch) more fake love Hoseok because it was… and i cannot stress this Enough… HIS ERA… like the animal print and the leg garters with the wavy hair WHEW

YALL if you thought i was done here’s MORE fake love Hoseok because.. the damn latex gloves they put him in keep me UP at night!!! also the under cut like siR THIS IS A MCDONALDS DRIVE THROUGH

we all saw this coming but Hoseok ATE this performance at bbmas 2019

(source: inkigayo) it’s not new knowledge that this man can rock a double denim look but he looks so sweet in his boy with luv promotion fits i love them so muchhhh

tbh I loved DNA era Hoseok’s styling I love when he wears cute printed blazers/button downs that make him look like a lil rockstar :((( i think with his bright personality this type of styling suits him well also the red hair was so ❤️❤️❤️❤️

(cr: 218) we all saw this coming tbh when I was at the tour this outfit completely annihilated me. i also feel like this is a relatively easy look to recreate! if you have a utility belt, black and loose fitting pants, combat boots, belt chains and a black ribbed top then you’ve got his look 

(cr: 218) i love double denim hoseok he looked so good this day.. the cute brown hair ..... the pretty dainty necklace i’m fading goo,,db ye

(cr: 218) him onstage in those blue sunglasses hits DIFFERENT i loved this look during the tour ... also the fact that the audience’s army bombs are reflecting off the lenses n it looks like he has stars in his eyes don’t talk to me i’m cryingf

How I style scenario outfits: For everyone out there who wants to be Hoseok’s Y/N (get in line I’ve been here for a while) I tend to only pull from some aspects of that one interview from I Need U era where the members discussed their ideal type’s fashion style. Some of the main pointers I use from this interview (since it’s one of the only times to my knowledge the boys have talked about preferences about style) are these:

1.) a girl that wears feminine clothing but nothing too fancy (dislikes high heels or fancy attire)

2.) someone who has a lot of cuteness

3.) likes girls who are interested in books and who he can chill out, read and talk with (she’s a lil nerdy i guess 😳…)

Based off of this my takeaways are that Hoseok likes a more relaxed style on a girl that still has cuteness and femininity. When I make outfits for Hobi scenarios I try to incorporate more feminine styles but also combine it with the way Hoseok dresses since out of all the members his style is probably most similar to my own. I use his usual technique of matching up 2-4 key colors in different areas of the outfit to make a cohesive look. I also try and include streetwear/industrial elements since Hope wears these himself but then represent them in a feminine way.

Thank you so much for reading if you made it this far~ I hope to complete similar style posts for the other members in the near future. I mainly wrote this for personal gratification and to really roadmap out my ult’s style. I also have major post-concert depression after metlife and perhapsimisshoseokmorethananythingintheworld BUT I hope to create more BTS fashion related posts in the future xoxo please anticipate!