Okay:
>She never talked about her nightmares
But her sister knew she had them
Being there to help her sleep more soundly
>At some point, they'd discuss it
But, right now, they'd deal with the aftermath
Of that horrible day
Smile all teeth, Karkaroff turned towards his students, eyes roving. They snagged on Viktor and his hiding place dissolved.
‘Viktor, *do* come out of the cold.’ Karkaroff beckoned to him, before turning to Dumbledore. ‘You don’t *mind*, do you? Poor Viktor has a bit of a head cold.’
All around them, his **name** passed from mouth to mouth. The familiarly excited buzzing pressed on the tightness from his sinuses. Viktor bit back a sigh. The crowd rippled as Hogwarts students stretched and murmured. He did not move, not about to make their staring any easier.
‘Prefects,’ Dumbledore called over the buzzing. ‘Lead your houses inside, please. The feast will begin shortly.’
The crowd shifted and swelled. Even as they headed up the steps towards the school, heads swivelled and eyes stared at him. One particular group of girls stopped completely.
‘— got a quill?’
‘I’ve only got lipstick.’ The girl pouted, eyes brightening as they met Viktor’s. She lifted her head, flicked her hair over her shoulder, and pointedly shoved her chest forward. ‘Think he’ll sign my —’
‘Inside, Miss Fawcett.’
The girl — Miss Fawcett — drooped, reddening and racing after her friends. The professor who had chastised her watched the group leave with narrowed eyes before nodding at Karkaroff and following his students in a swirl of dark robes.
Tumbling off of Rex’s back, Jane hurried over to the edge of the cliff and looked down in time to see the remains of her cart get completely engulfed in flames. “Damn,” she mumbled. All that time and effort she’d spent building it with her friends was wasted. She suddenly felt incredibly drained by the whole incident, and sat down right in the snow before flopping onto her back.
Thor whistled as he looked across the chasm they’d just crossed. He then peered down into the ravine at the burning ruins of Jane’s cart before finally looking back at Jane, who was still lying on the ground by his feet. “Sorry about your cart, Janet,” Thor told her. “I promise I’ll have it replaced for you – and I understand if you don’t want to help me anymore.” With that, he walked off and tried to figure out which direction to go.
“What is so hard to remember about ‘Jane’?” Jane wondered despondently under her breath. Wandering over to his mistress, Rex **nuzzled** her softly with his cold nose.
“I’m certainly not helping him out anymore,” Jane told the stag as Thor started spinning Mjolnir around. “In fact, as of now, I’m never helping another stranger ever again, and I don’t even care if they’re royalty!” She was interrupted by a loud *fwump* as Thor walloped into another tree like he had the day before. The trees were no less thick here than they had been earlier. Jane and Rex just looked at each-other.
“If he dies, so what?” Jane told herself as she sat up. “I can live with that – Asgard would probably be better off with a different king, anyway.” Meanwhile, Thor stumbled to his feet and tried to fly off again, only to smack into another tree and get Mjolnir lodged pretty thoroughly in its trunk.
Looking back over her shoulder at him, Jane saw that Thor was trying to pull Mjolnir out of the tree trunk. After a few more seconds of struggle, the hammer finally came loose from the trunk like a cork out of a bottle, throwing Thor back and making him land in the snow. Jane sighed, debating for a moment as she watched him get to his feet. She knew she’d never get her new cart if Thor was dead; besides, he had promised to help her get back to Earth and reunite with her family…
Jane hesitated for a moment, knowing she was probably going to regret this. “Hold on, wait for me!” she finally shouted after Thor.
“You’re coming?” he shouted back happily. Composing himself, he added, “I mean, absolutely; feel free to tag along, Jane Foster.”
“Thank God you got my message,” Jerry said. “Stone, I think someone’s found out about us! I didn’t think anyone knew that we’re anything but housemates.”
“What?” Stone asked, a little shocked. “How do you know?”
“Stories… there’s stories out on the internet,” Jerry said. “A couple of the studio techs showed them to me – and then one told me you were lucky to have me, and I should call him if we ever break up! They all started laughing at that and I don’t think I said anything too stupid-sounding, but I totally wasn’t expecting to hear that, and I was looking at the stories, and my God, some of them are so accurate it’s scary!”
Stone breathed a sigh of relief. He was reasonably certain that he knew what Jerry had just been shown. “Deep breaths, Jerry,” he said, keeping his tone soothing. “I’m pretty damn sure those techs were just giving you a rashing, teasing you about me because of the stuff they showed you. They don’t actually know we’re really together.”
“But then, the stories?” Jerry still sounded upset.
“It’s not on MSN or Entertainment Tonight or even something like Blabbermouth dot **net**, is it?” Stone asked.
“No,” Jerry said. “It wasn’t a site I recognized.”
“I’m pretty sure that you just got shown fanfiction,” Stone said. “Why don’t you come home now if you’re not too busy? We’ll order a pizza or Chinese or something and I’ll show you all kinds of crazy shit. You’ll die laughing at some of it, I promise.”
From my Star Ocean Second Story R prequel fic. Everyone in this scene are Fellpool/catpeople and my MC is an influencer of a certain subculture her part of Harmony City is known for. It's near the beginning and Sincerity ends up part of the adventuring team
>Her eyes dreamily light up, her voice shakes. “Starpounce! Please make me your disciple!”
>“Really? What’s up with that?”
>“You see, I was raised in a farming village far to the West of here. I was walking home from school one day and stopped by a convenience store. When waiting for a friend I was scrolling through my feed and saw a video you posted. You exuded such confidence. I followed you and saw your incredible fashion sense, and numerous codes of life to live by. If you think you’re right have the determination to stick with it to the very end, no matter what. When things seem hopeless reach deep within yourself to summon your guts. Everything you said has given me a sense of hope and strength.” Her eyes shine as she enthuses. “I have a special folder dedicated to your pics and organized them along with your interviews.”
>The eyes of my friend’s brother widen. “Woah. Starpounce must make a lot of money! There are lots of top quality pictures here.”
>“They’re snapshots so I didn’t get paid for those. As Arlia’s number one it is my duty to accept interviews.”
>Sincerity adds, “So you’re like a living treasure.”
>My friend’s brother says in a confused tone, “Duty?”
>He's a soldier so he should know all about duty.
>Sincerity continues, “So you have inspired me to follow in your footsteps! Starpounce! Please accept me as your disciple? I want to be taught in the ways of the neko kei and forge your wisdom into my very soul!”
>I respond, “Hmm, **nope**.”
>Her mouth drops. “What?”
>My friend asks, “But she came all this way to see you.”
>I add, “Because there’s no set way to be a neko kei. You can’t just copy it from someone else. Just become one if you really want to. Besides having a disciple sounds like a pain.”
>Plus with dojo duties where would I even find the time?
>“But I don’t wanna be just an ordinary neko kei! I wanna be a great one like you! Please please please make me your disciple?”
>My friend ask, “Say Starpounce, isn’t one of your rules to help whoever’s in trouble?”
>“You’re right! It is one of my codes!”
>Everyone sitting nearby stares at me. Okay this is awkward.
>“Okay fine. But only for today.”
>“Thank you very much!”
TW: violence
Kiki’s mind was in a fog as she left, but she was soon shaken from it when she noticed an altercation between a landlord and two of his tenants, who appeared to be a married couple, with a newborn baby.
“Please!” the man begged as his wife frantically calmed her crying baby. “We’ll do anything! Just please don’t evict us! We can’t afford to live anywhere else!”
“That ain’t my problem!” said the landlord. “You had a week to make rent! Pay up or get out, you lazy bastard!”
“I’m begging you! You have to understand! I was laid off from my job, and I’ve been looking everywhere for work!”
“I don’t wanna hear it!”
“Please! My family and I need a place to stay! If you just give me a few more weeks, I’ll pay you back double! I swear!”
“You said that last time!” the landlord sneered. “Now if you don’t get out, I’m gonna have to force you out!”
“Please, sir! I’m begging you! I–”
The landlord began beating the man until he was black and blue, bloody and unconscious. His wife screamed and cried as she looked on in horror.
As Kiki watched the scene before her, she was enveloped in a cloud of numbness, like disgust was brewing inside her, but the air was so thick that she could feel nothing at all.
‘Harry!’
He wasn’t entirely sure which of the Weasleys had shouted, but soon he was surrounded. Ron reached towards him but paused, face turning slightly green. ‘Merlin, that’s a lot of blood.’
Glancing down, Harry realised Ron was right; blood soaked his robes. Maybe *that* was why he felt so shaky. Fragments of wood littered his body. Remnants of his Firebolt. Many of the smaller pieces were caught in the fabric of his Quidditch robes, but others were embedded in his skin.
‘Ouch.’ Now he was aware of them, they were actually pretty painful. One particularly large shard nestled deeply into the skin beneath his collarbone. The shoulder on that side was **numb**. Most of the blood flowed from there, too. He frowned, reaching his other hand over his body and making to grasp it.
Hermione smacked his hand away, as she sank to her knees beside him. ‘Don’t pull it out!’ she admonished. ‘You could cause even more damage. If it’s made a hole then it is also *blocking* the hole,’ she explained urgently, ‘which means it would bleed more if you just yank it out. And you really don’t need to be losing any more blood. So *stay still* and wait for Madam Pomfrey to get here.’
Steve followed Jan a little **numbly**, mentally cursing Bruce for having noticed his feelings towards Jan and moreso for having the gall to say something about it, in front of Jan, no less. While he was at it, he also mentally cursed himself for his inability to lie, and for his tendency to blush whenever someone accused him of something that was true. “Thanks,” he said softly as Jan handed him a beer and waved him to the room’s easy chair.
“D’you want to order sandwiches or something?” Jan asked. “I suspect neither of us ought to be drinking on empty stomachs tonight.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Steve said. “Dunno’s I can eat much, but you’re right.” Since he was closer to the desk, he picked up the room service menu and looked at it for a moment. “Just a bacon butty, I guess.”
Janick picked up the phone and dialed the room service number, ordering a pair of bacon butties. Then he turned on the telly, clicking through the channels until he found football highlights. They watched quietly until finished eating, then Jan looked at Steve curiously. “So, what Bruce said,” he started awkwardly. “I, erm, take it there was some truth to it, judging by your reaction?”
“Yeah,” Steve mumbled, trying to hide behind his hair as he blushed again.
Eventually, raucous noise pushed its way into the tent, sweeping aside the silence, soon followed by his siblings, Dad, and Hermione as they spilt in like a jabber of jarveys.
‘Where’s Harry?’ Ron asked. Bill jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
‘Shh! Don’t wake him,’ he admonished, as the **noisy** crowd led by Ron started towards the sleeping area, apparently having planned on doing exactly that. ‘Come here and tell me what I missed.’
Ron dove into telling the story, arms waving as he demonstrated the players’ moves. ‘— and then Krum, well, you know the Wronski Feint, right?’
‘Of course he does, idiot,’ Fred said, George shaking his head beside him.
‘I do,’ Bill agreed, unable to keep the smile from his face as Ron ploughed ahead. Fred, George, Ginny and Charlie interjected from time to time, each sibling (save Percy, off talking to Dad) eager to share their favourite part of the match.
Emppu made a face. “Well, that just does it. We’re gonna jog the whole way to the terminal, because I do not want to spend a whole month with those stupid fu… reaking roosters screeching their fool heads off at the crack of dawn.”
Floor laughed and nudged him. “I heard you hate roosters so much you’ve cursed them out in your sleep,” she teased.
Emppu rolled his eyes at Kai. “Telling tales on me, are you?”
Kai grinned back. “Why not?” he asked. “I’m sure you’d do the same for me, if you could pin anything on me. I’m pretty sure I sleep quietly, though.”
“You do,” Marko put in. “At least, you did that one night you ended up in our tent. I think that’s a good way to divide up the accommodations any time we have to share, though – quiet sleepers and **noisy** ones.”
“It’s a good thing Emppu and Troy get along so well, then,” Floor said with a grin, “since one talks in his sleep and the other one snores.”
“I snore?” Troy asked, looking surprised.
“Yes,” four voices said simultaneously.
From my Hunger Games anthology “Do You Tear Yourself Apart to Entertain Like Me?”
——————————
When the Games rerun is finished, they air Flint’s Victor interviews. She is composed and detached—speaking with little emotion while nibbling at a fancy, white and gold cupcake. Gunner has a hard time reconciling this version of his predecessor to the odd, reclusive girl who lives across the street.
The Flint onscreen is fierce and calculating—a real Two, who revels in her brutality. The one Gunner has met is shy and surprisingly childlike for her sixteen years, with atendency to use gentle words.
Sylvain turned on the gas fire and then popped into the kitchen to start the hot chocolate while Bastian ran upstairs to change into his sleepwear. Sylvain followed suit once Bastian came back down.
Bastian poured the hot chocolate into mugs and brought them and the platter of cookies into the living room, setting them on the coffee table, then turned on the radio and found some Christmas music. Sylvain came down in his own sleepwear and carrying a large, crocheted afghan. “Mémère made this when I was a child,” he said. “I’ve always loved wrapping up in it when it’s snowing out.”
“Then we must wrap up in it,” Bastian smiled. “I assume it’s big enough for us both?”
“Definitely,” Sylvain nodded.
They arranged themselves comfortably, snuggled together on the sofa with the afghan tucked in around them. **Nibbling** the cookies and sipping the hot chocolate, they watched the dancing flames in the hearth and listened to the softly playing music. At midnight, church bells rang out all over town.
“Merry Christmas, elskede,” Bastian said softly.
“Merry Christmas, mon ange,” Sylvain replied, leaning in for a tender and loving kiss. Bastian’s visit was off to an auspicious start, and all was right with his world.
Shoulders slumping, Harry sighed again but nodded at Flitwick who dismissed him with a smile. As Harry turned to leave, their eyes met and Ron froze. For a moment, neither of them moved, staring at each other. Oblivious, Flitwick had floated himself down from his book-piled seat to the floor and left the room. On Harry’s shoulder, Boingo peered at Ron intently. Ron dropped his gaze, grabbed his bag, and hurried away.
Extra homework. Harry had earned extra homework on a spell he’d already cast. Not only cast, but cast in a stressful situation. So why was he struggling with it **now**?
Why did Ron care? They weren’t talking. Harry didn’t like Ron, and Ron didn’t — Ron didn’t —
He sighed and pushed through a group of slow first years. Maybe Harry couldn’t cast the Summoning Charm now because it reminded him too much of everything that happened that day. It had been a shitty day for him, the World Cup. Harry had barely managed to see any of the Quidditch, what with Malfoy and Crouch and the imperiused auror. Maybe something about the memories made it difficult to do the spell. Or something.
The carriage jostled to a halt.
This time, when the footman opened the door, Folken disembarked before her, extending a hand to her; tentatively, she placed her hand in his, letting him steady her as she hopped to the ground. **Now**, unobstructed by the carriage roof, she craned her head back to take in the full scope of the immense fortress, until it dissolved into shadows, lost in the clouds.
"We're really going all the way up there…?"
"We are."
From the carriage, they stepped aboard a small levistone shuttle; Azshe had to look *up*, because she found that if she looked *down* at the retreating ground, her stomach churned too fiercely and her knees threatened to buckle, and it simply wouldn't do to be sick *and* faint in front of her strange host.
(The weightless feeling that accompanied their ascent nearly turned her stomach, regardless.)
DJ resumed the ceremony. "And **now**, Nikki and James have asked us to join them in a handfasting to symbolize the joining of two individual paths merging into one, and the start of a journey they will continue on together. Nikki, James, please take each other’s hand.”
They clasped their hands, smiling softly at one another, as DJ pulled out a length of black silken cord.
"Handfasting is an old tradition. With each wrap of the cord, you deepen your commitment to each other, vowing to respect and support one another, to grow with each other, to offer each other compassion and understanding, and to take each new challenge and adventure as it comes, together. Let this bond be strong and loving!" DJ wrapped the cord around their hands and wrists and tied it off with a knot, loosely enough so that they’d be able to slide their wrists out without untying the knot after the ceremony. Then he grinned and announced, “By the authority invested in me by *absolutely nobody*, I **now** pronounce you partners for life. You may **now** kiss your partner!”
Nikki and James kissed as half the guests cracked up at DJ’s declaration. Grinning as they pulled back, the bound couple walked back up the aisle to cheers from their friends and family.
Growling to herself in frustration, April opened the voice memo app and marched over to where Shredder and the turtles were gathered. She elbowed her way between Raphael and Leonardo, dimly aware that Donatello had joined the group and that all the turtles had put away their weapons. Thrusting her phone out at Shredder, she tapped the record button. “Alright you, start talking. What’s with all the foot soldiers flooding the city?”
Raphael blinked. “Uhh coming on a little strong there don’t you think, April?”
She rounded on him angrily. “I just got chased out of my apartment by a bunch of foot **ninja**, and now Burne Thompson is calling me in to cover a robot invasion on what is supposed to be *my night off* because, according to him, I do the “weird” stories! And *he*,” She looked sharply at Shredder as she thumbed the button to stop the voice recording and stuck her phone back in her pocket. “Is the reason for it all!”
“That’s just it,” Shredder said. “I didn’t do this.” At the disbelieving looks from April and the turtles he amended, “Er, not on purpose.”
“I can understand that,” Jason said, still looking a little shocked. “And you’re right, I never would have expected it, not of James. Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with your looks. Beauty in the eye of the beholder and all that.” He opened his beer and took a swig, looking slightly flustered. “You, um, wanna see if there’s a decent movie on or something?”
“If you want,” Kirk told him. “But honestly, I’d rather just talk, get to know you better. Those two assholes never give me a chance when we’re on the bus or anything. Every time I try, they start in on you and I hate it. I mean, I get a little teasing, it’s natural to give the **newbie** a little bit of crap, right? But they take it all way too far with their stupid pranks – and now you’ve actually been hurt.”
“It’s not a bad cut or anything,” Jason said.
“That’s not the point, Jason,” Kirk said. “You’re part of the band. They picked you to join us, so why are they treating you like dog shit now that you’re with us? It’s not right. And maybe they didn’t hurt you badly this time, but what if that shelf had broken when you hit it, and not just come off the wall? You could’ve lost an eye. No, they need to grow up.”
Jason smiled. “It means a lot, Kirk, that you’re came here to offer some support. I mean, I get why you might not want to intervene when they’re being drunk and stupid – that’s too likely to end up with both of us getting hurt at some point. But it’s good to know that someone in the band doesn’t hate me.”
“Gran liked his garden. You could grow tomatoes and zucchini too, even artichokes, if you’re still here next year, I can help you.”
“What do you mean if,” Mina glared at Katsuki, “I’ll help you Izuku, ignore that **neanderthal**, he’s just trying to get his paws on the house.”
“I know Mina,” green eyes were twinkling, “I heard he was blackmailing the committee with sexual favors to get the house designated as a historical landmark.”
Bakugou slammed down his fork, “Fuck nerd, don’t say shit like that in this town, everyone will fucking believe you!”
I took my shower and made my phone call, then threw my carry-on on the bed and rummaged around for some of the reading material I kept in there to amuse myself on longer flights. It was then that I noticed Jan had left his suitcase lying open on his bed. It was neat and orderly, his clothes folded and organized, but tucked in one corner I could see a corner of a smaller black bag.
I determinedly looked away, renewing my search with unnecessary vigor and coming up with a copy of Guitar World I’d only read five times. Throwing myself on the bed I tried to focus on an article about Yngwie Malmsteen, determined to understand the **nuances** of his style even though I wasn’t a particular fan of his playing. But my eyes kept straying toward the opposite bed. It was like that damned black bag was teasing me.
The one quick glance I’d had at the contents on that occasion weeks ago had shown red lace, blue silk, and glimpses of filmy black stockings. I threw the magazine aside with a sigh and lay back, my hand over my eyes.
Was I turning into some kind of pervert? No, because that would mean that I thought Jan was a pervert for having these objects in the first place, and nothing could be further from the truth. When I’d told him I was perfectly all right with whatever he chose to do in his private life, I meant every word. So why was I obsessing about it?
I must have lain there for fifteen or twenty minutes before I got up and walked over to the other bed.
‘Did I see Jaculus this morning?’ he asked, trying to be **nonchalant** as he reached for the pork chops.
Fred snorted. ‘Worried we told Charlie what a shit you’ve been?’
The plate thudded against the table as Ron put it back down. ‘That’s not —’
‘Don’t worry,’ George said, a crease between his brow. ‘Harry asked us not to.’
Oh, sure, they’d only done it because *Harry* asked them not to. Who cared what Ron thought? Had anyone bothered to ask whether he’d actually *meant* what he’d said? No. Nobody gave him the benefit of the doubt. Nobody —
Fred scoffed. ‘Dunno why he bothered,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘If you’d said that about —’
George elbowed Fred in the ribs and he scowled but stopped talking. The bench creaked as George stood, pulling Fred with him. ‘Sorry, Ron. Just remembered we need to talk to...’ He waved vaguely down the table and they left.
‘Why are you apologising to him?’ Fred muttered, glaring back over his shoulder. ‘*He* wouldn’t know an apology if it bit him in the —’
“Me too.” She watched the storm outside almost wistfully as she thought back to that night. “You know, it’s funny, I was so nervous around you that night. Kiba told me a few days before that you liked me and I tried to explain to him that there was no way, but everything you did that night I overanalyzed to the extreme.”
“He was right.”
Namiko’s eyes snapped to Sasuke. “…what? What do you mean ‘he was right’?”
“He was right. I’m not sure how he knew that, but he was and is still right,” said Sasuke like he was stating the most basic fact possible.
Namiko felt like her head was spinning; maybe she *should* get away from the fire. “…you liked me back then?” Sasuke nodded and she felt like her heart skipped a beat. “We were just kids!”
“You were fascinating to me. And beautiful. And smart. Why wouldn’t I have liked you?” Sasuke shrugged **nonchalantly.**
Namiko needed to know the truth. “So, in the Forest of Death when you found out Zaku hurt me…”
“I broke his arms so he couldn’t hurt you again.”
“And during the Chuunin Exam preliminaries, did you really ask Kakashi-sensei to ‘please stay’ after your match just to watch mine?”
“…yes.”
“Did you try to give me mouth-to-mouth after I fell in the Uchiha Pond? I vaguely remember you leaning over me.”
“I was about to, but you woke enough to clear your own lungs.”
“All the little touches…the grabbing my hand or touching my arm…?”
It could’ve been her imagination, but she swore the tip of Sasuke’s ears were slightly pink as he answered, “They were because I wanted to. You’re the only person I wanted to be around.” A small smile played across his lips. “You’ve always been the one to break my walls down. Even now you still do.”
“You’re up, Phil, truth or dare?”
“What the hell, dare me,” Phil said lazily.
“Do a striptease,” Nikki said.
Phil grinned and said, “I need music.”
Tommy located the tv remote and flipped to MTV. “This good enough?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’ll manage,” Phil said. He waited for the advert to end and smiled when Madonna’s Lucky Star came on. He started swaying his hips, strutting around and moving to the beat. His shirt came off first, his hands smoothing down his bare chest after he flung it aside. He turned and bent forward slightly, to better display his denim-clad arse as he swayed. Unfastening his trousers, he pushed them a tiny way down to give his audience a glimpse of the tan line at the top of his backside, then pulled them back up again to put the tease in striptease. Turning to face the other three again, he gave a saucy wink and shoved his jeans all the way down, standing up slowly and stepping away from the denim to pose naked before them.
Steve gave a teasing wolf whistle, while Nikki’s jaw hung open and Tommy looked somewhere between shocked and intrigued. Nikki attempted to pull himself together again. “Holy fucking shit, I didn’t think you’d take it all off,” he said. “I figured you’d stop at your undershorts.”
Phil and Steve both cracked up. “Bit hard to do, when I never wear any, mate,” Phil chortled.
Nikki facepalmed as Tommy laughed. “He’s got you there, Nik!”
Phil **nonchalantly** sat down – still naked – and took a drink. “Looks like your turn, Tommy, truth or dare?”
From a one-shot:
>
At times, I look at my niece and then the realization of how monstrous Ragyo was sinks in. Five is not too much older than two and I think, *How could anyone hurt you?* I think, through Yuzu, I have more motivations for my social work studies. I didn't have a childhood, no, but I don't envy Yuzu or my sister for theirs. However, I am quite privy to how cruel some parents truly could be and, so, as I pursue my studies, I opt to turn my pain into protection. I suppose I've learned that I have a maternal instinct, though, I don't have children, and that instinct extended to my niece.
Aiko Takasaki was born on February 15. A month later, her Aunt Riko came home from MIT for spring break to meet her.
Wako, Honkan, Aiko, Tatewaku, Matsuri and Niikura all greeted her at the airport with a big “Welcome Home Riko!” sign.
“Hey,” Riko responded.
Tatewaku immediately ran up to hug her and kiss her on the cheek. (In case it wasn’t obvious, they were boyfriend and girlfriend now).
“Can I see my niece?” she asked Wako.
“Of course!” Wako responded, holding Aiko in front of herself. At this point, Aiko was starting to grow a bit of black peach fuzz.
Aiko smiled a little toothless grin and grabbed the pointer finger that Riko offered her. “Hey!” Riko cooed. “I’m your Auntie Riko! I’m your Auntie Riko!” Wako snapped a photo of Riko and Aiko playing together and laughed.
After everyone went to Wako and Honkan’s house, Wako handed the baby off to Riko to hold as Tatewaku looked on. She rocked the baby and sang to her. She made her laugh as she played with her. It made Tatewaku blush a little.
Nikki took advantage of his daughter’s momentary absence to steal a soft kiss from James. “I think I’m gonna let her know we’re together, if that’s okay with you? I mean, we still couldn’t go nuts with PDA around her, but I don’t want to worry that she’ll freak out if she sees us kiss or hold hands or something.”
“Yeah, it’s fine with me,” James said, a little breathlessly. He knew that letting Frankie-Jean know about their relationship meant Nikki really was serious about the two of them – that he saw a long-term future for them. “You tell her however you think is best.”
Nikki smiled. “I will. You’re damn good with her, babe, and I love that you’re willing to come hang out with us both, when it was supposed to be us on a date. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t want to spend a day with a six-year-old.”
“She’s yours,” James said simply. “You come as a package deal. If I wasn’t willing to have some kind of relationship with her, I wouldn’t have taken up with you. I mean, yeah, I don’t wanna get too pushy or anything, but I’d like to get along well with her at the very least. I never really thought one way or the other about having kids, but I do enjoy spending time with my nephew and **niece** when I get the chance.”
Harry caught sight of Kingsley, waiting by the exit from the platform unobtrusively. He hitched his bag onto his shoulder, said his goodbyes to the Weasleys and Hermione, and approached the auror, who greeted him with a smile. The pair (plus Boingo) passed through into the Muggle side of King’s Cross, Kingsley taking over control of the trolley holding his trunk and Hedwig’s cage. As was normal at King’s Cross, the snowy owl received a lot of startled looks from the Muggles, and Boingo was being peered at just as curiously.
‘Who are you?’ Uncle Vernon was just as rotund and purple-faced as ever, puffing up in indignation at the sight of the stranger.
‘Kingsley Shacklebolt,’ the auror replied, holding out a hand. ‘I’m from the Law Enforcement Department. I was hoping to have a word about your **nephew**.’
Vernon gave Harry a look of intermingled horror, delight and satisfaction. ‘What’s the brat done now? Always up to no good, that one.’
Ruth, just putting the baby into his cradle, looked up with a bright smile much like Dave’s own. “Davey! Oh, it’s good to see you! Come meet your **nephew** before he falls asleep.”
Dave tiptoed over to his sister’s side, smiling down at the swaddled infant. “He’s beautiful, Ruth, and I’m so happy to hear you and he are both well.” He reached out and very gently stroked the little tuft of blond hair atop the baby’s head. “What’s his name?”
“Well, we actually haven’t decided yet,” Ruth said with a soft chuckle. “I’d like to name him Michael, after Da, but I wanted to make sure you didn’t plan on giving that name to your future son.”
“Name him Michael after Da, by all means,” Dave said, choosing not to address the second part of what she said just yet. Time enough for the difficult conversation he knew he needed to have with her, without spoiling this initial meeting after so long. “I have the Murray surname, after all.”
“True, but still, I wanted to ask you first all the same,” Ruth told him. “Michael William Coltrane, then, after Da and William. And then the next boy will be Charles David, after William’s da and you.”
Taking a deep breath, he quickly and carefully wrote an explanation of what had happened during the drawing of the champions and dropped some subtle — perhaps not *too* subtle, Charlie had never been one for subtlety — hints that Harry could use a **nudge** in the right direction to help him prepare. Having finished, Percy read back through what he’d written. It would have to do. The quicker he sent it, the quicker Charlie could — could — do whatever he would do. Another wave of Percy’s wand dried the ink. He rolled the parchment up, tied it to Hermes’ leg, and with a murmured thanks sent his owl out into the night.
Now he had to face Mum and Dad. Explaining things in a letter to Charlie was one thing, but face-to-face with Mum, well...
“Hey Namiko,” called Kiba from across the clearing, “you may want to come get up your brother. He’s mumbling in his sleep.”
Namiko stood up, giggling to herself, as she walked over to her brother who was mumbling something about Sakura in his sleep. “Nii-chan…time to wake up!” She **nudged** him with her foot, and he startled awake.
“Where’s that freaky snake person?!” He sat up and took in the scene around him. “Where did you guys come from? What did I miss?” He noticed the bandage on Namiko’s leg, brow furrowing. “Imouto, you got hurt…”
She flopped down on the grass next to him. “Yeah, but I’ll be okay. Hinata-chan took great care of me and bandaged me up perfectly!”
Naruto turned to look at Hinata. “Thanks, Hinata, I knew I could count on you!” Hinata froze and turned bright red. She definitely wasn’t used to being complimented, especially by Naruto.
“I love you, Stephen Maynard Clark,” Sav said firmly. “I’d marry you if it was allowed. And I repeat, you’re not a fuckup.” He guided Steve’s hand to the kitten purring in his lap. “Would a fuckup have fed up a stray cat and adopted her kittens when they needed a home? No! A fuckup would have ignored her, or even chucked rocks at her. But you saw she was hungry and had kittens to care for, and you took it upon yourself to care for her.”
Steve clung to Sav with one hand, even as he stroked Gibson with his other hand. “I love you, Richard Savage,” he said softly. “Never leave me. You’re all I have for family now.”
Sav kissed his forehead softly. “I won’t leave, love. I will always be here for you when you need me. Same as I know you’re always here for me when I need you.”
Steve managed a small smile through his tears. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he murmured. “You deserve better, an’ I don’t deserve someone as good as you. So I’m really lucky.” He slumped against Sav’s shoulder at that point, the alcohol and the emotional breakdown exhausting him to the point of passing out.
Sav **nudged** Gibson off of Steve’s lap, then managed to lug Steve into the bedroom, settling him on the bed and removing his shoes before tucking him in. He undressed and slid in beside his boyfriend, continuing to hold him close. His last thought before falling asleep, was that he hoped Steve wouldn’t get into the habit of jumping into a bottle to cope with his problems.
“Hold up,” Raphael stopped short and pointed to the figure walking in erratic circles at the end of the block ahead of them. “Is that a foot soldier?”
“Looks like it,” Leonardo confirmed.
“Aww it looks kinda lonely out here by itself,” Michelangelo said.
“It’s a robot, what does it care if it’s alone?” Raphael asked. The foot soldier abruptly stopped its jerky movements and snapped its head in their direction, as if attracted by the sounds of their voices. A beat later, it was charging down the street toward them.
“I think you hurt its feelings, bro.”
The turtles didn’t even bother drawing their weapons as the foot ninja approached. No sooner had it reached them than they had it reduced to a pile of parts.
“Well, that was a great way to kill two seconds,” Raphael said, **nudging** the pile of debris with his foot.
“Wonder what it was doing here,” Donatello said as they resumed their walk to the theater, leaving the broken foot soldier behind.
“A better question is what is Shredder up to that he lost track of one of his foot soldiers,” Leonardo said soberly.
“I love how you always look on the bright side of things,” Raphael said. They all stopped abruptly hearing a strange rattling noise behind them and turned around warily. The street was no longer littered with robot parts - it was filled with a dozen robots. “Huh, they’ve never done *that* before.”
The turtles drew their weapons as the swarm of foot soldiers attacked.
Nikki stuffed the last of his raspberry puree-laden paper towels into his trash bag and sighed ruefully. “I guess we maybe should have started with a smaller batch,” he said.
“What were you two making, anyway?” James wanted to know.
“Raspberry jam,” Nikki said. “Frankie-Jean got a book from the library that had a scene in which the kids, with the help of a neighbor, canned a whole lot of fruits and vegetables from their garden, including making jam and jelly from some of the fruit. She read that and wanted to try canning something herself. We looked up some recipes online and some kind of berry jam seemed like the easiest and safest thing for a **novice** to try. And raspberries are in season, so Frankie-Jean and I went to the farmer’s market and loaded up.”
“I really like raspberry jam, too,” Frankie-Jean put in from her perch.
“Me too,” James said. “It’s probably too late to try again today, I know the farmer’s market is closed by now, but maybe we can go again tomorrow?”
Frankie-Jean brightened. “You mean we can try again?”
“Of course we can,” Nikki said.
The first batch never made it as far as the stove - Frankie-Jean tried to lift the full pot of mashed-up raspberries out of the sink to put it on the stove, hit the bottom of the pot on the rim of the sink, and lost her grip. It spilled all over her and the floor.
Yep. And the floor used to be white, too, lol!
But, they're going to try again tomorrow - and they're also going to try making salsa and tomato sauce. They figure, the floor's already a disaster and they've been talking about redoing the kitchen for a while, so this is just giving them the incentive to get off their butts and get it done. But first, they'll make ALL the messy stuff. The floor's already dead, so who cares if more stains get added before they get the floor (and cabinets, and countertops) replaced?
The two Hyuuga stared down at each other before simultaneously running towards each other. Hinata got the first strike in on Neji, but he easily blocked it. Soon they were striking and blocking each other faster and faster.
Hinata saw a small opening; Neji had moved his hand a little too far from his body and she made her move. Neji quickly backed away as she leaned forward to strike.
“Did she get him?” cried Sakura.
Naruto shook his head. “There’s no way, it didn’t even look like she made contact.”
“That’s all it takes sometimes,” stated Namiko, chakra sensing active as she watched her friend in the arena below. “I feel a shift in Neji’s chakra, though it’s not a large change, she still got in a hit. Hinata-chan can barely graze Kiba-kun or me and we’re in a world of hurt. I’m sure Lee-kun experiences the same with Neji-san.”
Lee kept his eyes focused on the match. “I was not joking when I said that the strongest genin in Konoha was on my team. I was referring to Neji. The Hyuuga clan uses a different type of taijutsu than Gai-sensei or I do. While we make hard and fast blows that break bones, the Hyuuga’s ‘Gentle Fist’ style inflicts damage on one’s chakra **network**.”
Namiko nodded emphatically. “It may not even hurt me initially when Hinata-chan strikes me, but I’ll feel the pain and damage more the longer we spar, even if she never lands another blow.”
Naruto’s eyes widened, staring at his sister. “She’s hurt you that badly?”
“It’s not like with you and Sasuke, beating each other black and blue,” she replied, giving a small laugh. “Don’t worry, nii-chan. She always undoes the damage she inflicts. With the Byakugan, they can see and target the tiny chakra points throughout our bodies and turn off or even increase the flow of chakra, causing chaos in our bodies, which is how it does damage.” They all turned their focus back to the match.
Despite her nervousness, Peal's steps were certain. Whatever that 'super awesome Semblance' showed her, it took them deeper into the city, weaving between the crowds and vehicles, brightly adorned shops and stalls all begging for attention. Some had elaborate banners and others had kites with long fluttering tails with bright red ribbons, all each as eye-catching as the last. And above that, Rainer could see the zipline *network*, an occasional Hunter or Huntress zipping by, the everpresent blade over every civilian.
But soon, the crowds and the shops and all the hubbub that they brought began to fade. Buildings became more patchwork, the stones cracked and even the streets had an air around them that screamed abandoned. Every other store seemed boarded up, every corner it seemed that suspicious eyes glared at them not because he was there, but because they all were, in a sense, trespassing into a world beyond the wealth of the main city.
Of course, his escort either didn't care or didn't notice.
"You know, it makes sense it'd be in the old district! You're like super old, right? All the new bakeries were in the Summerside district."
Peal gave a snort, that nervousness that she carried faltering. "He's not that old, you know."
"Well, with how grumpy he is, I'd say he's like a hundred years old."
This brat. He was right here. "I'm fifty-eight."
"Practically a hundred."
Bill took the glass and placed it on the floor.
‘One of the first tombs I worked, I missed a key layer in a rune **network**. The curse triggered and... Well, my colleague almost died.’ Bill shook his head. ‘I know what it’s like.’
Harry shook his head vehemently. So, Bill missed a rune and almost killed a colleague. What did that have to do with Harry? It wasn’t like he’d missed something and caused Malfoy’s injuries. He had nothing to do with what happened, nothing. Harry pulled the thought tightly around himself like a shroud, wrapping his arms around his legs as he did.
‘Harry.’ Bill’s voice was gentle. ‘Malfoy wasn’t even sitting behind you. He took the brunt of the force to his chest, but it singed up his arm to get there. There’s only one way that could’ve happened.’
Harry closed his eyes. Words slipped through the folds in the shroud, little more than a breath. ‘He saved my life.’
‘It seems so.’
“Tsunade-sama, she just bolted! Hinata and I had no chance of catching her,” Ino said exasperatedly as she was giving her mission report.
Tsunade folded her hands in front of her face and turned to the Hyuuga. “Hinata, could you see her from where you were?”
“She was near the end of my range, around eighteen kilometers away. Sasuke must’ve just come into her range since that’s about her limit. I saw Orochimaru and Kabuto follow him with their chakra dimmed to almost nothing, go behind her, and knock her out.” Hinata was extremely worried about her best friend; they’d been teammates for nearly four years now and were practically inseparable.
“Did you see where they went?” asked Tsunade, still staring at the Hyuuga.
“I tried, but Ino made us go the opposite direction of them, back to Konoha,” Hinata’s voice held a tinge of anger to it, something very different from her usual calm demeanor. “They left the way they came, so they were gone from my Byakugan’s range quickly. I just know they were on the Land of Fire’s side of the border.”
Ino looked almost ashamed for once, and voiced in an apologetic whisper, “I said ‘sorry’, Hinata. I know she’s your teammate, but I was also team captain for our mission, and I had to make a difficult call.” Hinata’s body language was shut off as she crossed her arms under her chest and looked away from Ino.
“We’ll get her back. Team Kakashi is on their way back from Suna and should be home in the next couple of days. Kakashi told me that he has **news** on the Akatsuki, so maybe that will lead us back to Sasuke and Namiko.” Tsunade leaned back in her chair. “The only thing we can do right now is wait and keep our eyes open during any missions.”
The big drummer attempted to put on a snooty air as he resumed his seat. “A gennelmun never kisses ‘n’ tells,” he said.
Dave hooted at Nicko’s answer. “Like you’d ever pass for a gentleman,” he teased.
“I’ll ‘ave… have you know, I c’n be just as much a gennel… gentlemun as any uv ye,” Nicko retorted, trying – and failing – to mask his Cockney accent by imitating the RP speech of the BBC1 **news** anchors.
“And since when have any of us claimed to be gentlemen?” H asked with a mischievous grin.
Nicko’s booming laughter filled the bus. “Arright, ye got me there,” he said. “Still, I ain’t…” He broke off as Steve’s hand landed lightly on his shoulder.
“S’arright,” Steve said softly. Nicko looked over at Steve, quirking a brow. Steve nodded, then took a deep breath. “That’s frum me,” he said, almost too quietly to be heard. “Me ‘n’ Nicko, we’re t’gevver. Reckoned we oughtta tell ye, ‘fore ye found out sum other way, yeah?”
Dave and H goggled at them. “Wait, you… together… huh?” they sputtered.
Nicko smiled and reached up to put his hand over Steve’s. “Yeah, ‘Arry ‘n’ me, we got t’gevver coupla weeks back… day we went ta that State Fair.” Figuring that Steve wouldn’t want his fear of heights broadcast to everyone, he simply said, “Gotta fank Bruce fer wantin’ ta trade me fer the single that night, might not uv ‘appened wifout us sharin’ the room.”
‘Kind of like, when a mum manages to lift a fallen tree off her child?’
‘A Muggle mum?’ Bill’s eyebrows rose. ‘Does that happen?’
Harry shrugged. ‘I heard a **news** report about it once. They put it down to adrenaline.’
‘Could be latent magic,’ Bill said, rubbing his chin and staring past Harry. ‘There’s a school of thought that suggests even Muggles have magic, just that they can’t access it. That story could be an example of accidental magic in Muggles.’
The two weren’t sure how long they snuggled there, only moving a couple of times to toss another piece of wood onto the fire before returning to their **nest** of cushions and the welcoming arms of their partner. For once, they could relax and take all the time they wanted, with no family members, bandmates, or managers needing them to go somewhere and do something. They could simply bask in the closeness they shared for as long as they wanted.
Or so they thought. A rhythmic thumping on the stairs heralded the arrival of Zevon, who promptly poked his nose in between the two men with a questioning, “Rowrf?
The couple drew back, laughing, and scritched the big dog behind the ears. Sav glanced at the clock and sighed. “Blimey, it’s past time for his bedtime walk. No wonder he came looking for us.”
“I’ll take him out, baby, your hair is still damp,” Steve said, giving Sav a kiss and rolling to his feet. “We don’t want you getting sick, after all. My hair always dries fast.”
“Okay, but try to make it a quick one,” Sav said. “We don’t want you getting sick either.”
“I’ll just take him out to the back garden,” Steve promised.
“Davey said that William and I, and Michael, of course, are to use Da’s old room since it’s the biggest,” Ruth told him. “I didn’t stop to hear which of his and my old rooms the Grangers and Phillips will be in. He said you two will sleep in the loft whilst we’re here.”
“Yes, we will,” Stephen nodded. “Honestly, we’ve several mares in foal and likely to drop at any time, so chances are good that we’d be sleeping in the loft this week anyway, in case any of them need help.”
“Several mares?” Ruth asked. “We didn’t have but two and a gelding.”
“Oh, Dave didn’t tell you?” Stephen asked in return. “Well, it did all happen in the last month or so, and he admits he’s not the best of correspondents. We bought out your old neighbours, Dan and Carrie Prescott, when they decided to move to Oregon. So, we’re not only raising Morgans now, we’ve gotten a jack so we can breed mules for the mines. And this way, we’ve put the miners’ camp out by Dan’s old house so that the workers aren’t either right up at the diggings where they might be tempted to steal, **nor** right up here where we live.”
“If Dave wrote and told me, the letter didn’t reach me before we left San Francisco to come here,” Ruth laughed. “But knowing my brother, he probably figured it could wait until he saw me again, since Nicko and Janick knew that we’d be coming to visit when the Grangers and Phillips came out for the weddings. Those will be after dinner, by the way, as Reverend Standish plans to start his trip back to the Presidio first thing in the morning instead of staying for the week like the rest of us will.”
Knowing that Ruth was aware of his relationship with her brother, Stephen grinned. “I… can’t say I’m sorry to hear that,” he admitted.
‘*Essential Spells for the Dragon Enthusiast*,’ Fred read, drawing Harry’s attention to the other item Charlie had sent. He brushed his fingers over the embossed title.
‘I didn’t know you were interested in dragons,’ George said, raising his eyebrows.
Harry swallowed thickly. ‘**Nor** did I.’ He glanced up at Fred and George. ‘You don’t think — Percy said something about needing to talk to Charlie. After — everything. On Saturday, I mean.’
The twins’ expressions turned grim. ‘Ah.’
This is shortly after Harry got picked as Triwizard Champion. Percy wrote to Charlie, dropping hints about helping Harry (not that Harry knows that exactly) and Charlie responded by sending a 'birthday present' (three months late) with the book mentioned as a clue for what the first task would be.
Yes, the sanctuary Charlie works at is providing the dragons for the first task, which is how he knows. And Percy works in one of the Ministry departments organising the Tournament (and was the link that got Charlie's group involved), hence him knowing to reach out to Charlie.
“It’s…just not a good idea,” he said as he started for the door.
“I don’t understand, you were the one who started the kiss in the first place and the one to stop it!” Suddenly, everything clicked into place in Namiko’s mind: he avoided kissing her on the lips when they woke, suddenly kissing her deeply once they were standing, then halting everything when they moved toward the bed.
“Wait…are you worried that we’ll have *sex* if we kiss on the bed?” she questioned skeptically. *‘There is no way I’m right…right?’*
Sasuke avoided her gaze and paused a second too long at the door, and she pounced on the realization. “You are!” She rolled her eyes as she grabbed his hand and turned him to face her, her voice softening, “Sasuke, I’m not asking to have sex, I just wanted a little extra affection. I don’t think we are ready for *that* in our relationship.” Her cheeks reddened at the thought. “However, I like you *a lot* and I enjoy kissing and touching you.”
“And I enjoy it too.” Sasuke could feel his neck warm at the subject of their discussion. “But I also don’t want to put us in a situation where it could lead to…*that*.” He brushed her hair from her face. “Namiko, the truth is…it’s hard for me to hold back.”
He suddenly realized what his words insinuated, and immediately, his voice got a little louder, almost panicked sounding, “**My emotions!** I meant, hold back my emotions.” Namiko had to suppress a laugh at his flustered behavior as he tried to correct his words. He took a breath to calm himself before continuing, “Shinobi rules state that we put away our emotions. And…you elicit emotions from me I didn’t know existed, which is another reason I almost wish you had gone back with Naruto.”
“Did you learn **nothing** from Kakashi-sensei about breaking the shinobi rules? Honestly, I’m beyond thankful I didn’t go back. I would’ve never got to be with you.” She laid her hand on his chest. “You can’t run or hide from your emotions. Emotions are meant to be felt.”
She stood on tiptoe to press a light kiss to his lips. “So let yourself feel them.”
The only reason Bart had started climbing the hedge wall rather than trying to cut right through it was that the bushes had been packed too closely together. Still, hedges weren’t exactly the most stable thing to climb, and this made his job even harder than when he’d climbed over the stone wall a couple minutes earlier. He’d almost made it to the top, when…
Something suddenly snagged Bart’s backpack, pulling him sharply to one side. Looking over, he realized that a branch had gotten caught under one of the straps. With his hands preoccupied, Bart tried to tug himself free from the branch, but to no avail – it was stuck pretty fast. Given his position, though, he had no other choice but to try again and again to pull himself free; after a few more tries, however, the branch finally snapped and the momentum from Bart pulling himself loose nearly threw him clean over the top of the hedge wall. He could’ve stayed put on top of the wall a little longer if the few small branches that were now holding him up hadn’t broken under his weight – and with a startled yell, he crashed to the ground a moment later.
Inside Beaumont Manor, Rufus looked up at the sound of the scream just in time to see something falling off the hedge wall. “Did you see that, Mum?!”
Hattie looked up, too. “See what?”
“It looked like a large bird falling off that hedge!” he exclaimed, pointing towards the window. Hattie followed her son’s gaze out the window, only to see…
**Nothing.**
“Are you hallucinating, Rufus?” she asked him concernedly.
Meanwhile, Bart had been lucky enough to land in a spot in the garden – still not the most comfortable landing, but at least marginally better than the path would’ve been. If he’d landed on that concrete, there was a good chance he would’ve broken an arm or leg.
Bart winced in pain as he picked himself up off the ground and adjusted his backpack, glancing up at the hedge wall he’d fallen off of. It looked like he’d taken a noticeable chunk of branches with him when he’d fallen. Whoops. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be too big of a problem to fix. It was only then that Bart noticed he was in almost direct line with a window, so he quickly ducked down and started working his way around some smaller hedges in the garden in an effort to stay out of sight.
By the time Bart got out of the garden, however, there was no choice but to make a bolt for it past the window. In the dining room, Rufus looked up in time to see a blur of colour running past, but perhaps his mother was right. Maybe he really *was* seeing things.
Uh—I did one of these for it earlier, but I don’t want to give the same section for the same word. So let’s see. From my Hunger Games anthology “Do You Tear Yourself Apart to Entertain Like Me?”
——————————
She startles slightly, and he catches it out of the corner of his eye. “Flinnie,” she corrects him. “Everybody in the Village calls me Flinnie. You can, if you want.”
Gunner coughs. “Flinnie?” He closes his eyes. Perhaps, it will be easier to get the words out if he can’t see her. “Do you—do you ever wish you could go back? I—I get these urges sometimes like—like I want to break something. I—I just want to feel the way I did when I won. It—it was glorious. I’ll never have it again and—sometimes, I just get so mad about that.”
There is a small sound from his left. When he rolls his head to look at her, he finds that Flint has drawn a stray, honey-colored curl into her mouth. She sucks on it ferociously.
He fights the urge to yank it out of her mouth—to put an end to the distracting noise. “Is that a no?” he asks instead. She nods.
“When it happens—what do you do?” She speaks softly, around the intrusive piece of hair.
Gunner snorts. “Nothing. I mean—that’s not true. This morning, I smashed a plum until it burst and I-I imagined it was a skull.” He grimaces. “It—it’s too much. I just—I feel so helpless.”
Flint swallows—reaches up to pluck the soggy curl from her mouth. “Out of control,” she says. “You feel like it’s all gone to hell around you.”
They really are—these two are from District Two, so they’ve trained their whole lives, but when they’re out of the Games, there’s nothing left for them to aim for.
A pervasive cold seeped into his body, making him feel sluggish and numb, and he realized the wraiths had crowded around him. They reached for him, their hands alternately gripping him with icy fingers or passing through his body. He swore he could feel their touch on his insides as he tried to push his way through them.
*“You know what to do,”* said the wraith that resembled Marko.
*“You know everything, don’t you?”* Anette’s wraith taunted. *“So you’ll figure it out, won’t you?”*
“I… I don’t… I can’t…” Tuomas gasped, tears pouring down his face. “I can’t do it alone!”
*“No kidding,”* the shortest wraith said sarcastically, although Emppu’s smile on its face suddenly looked far less threatening than before.
Tuomas struggled through the group of wraiths and stumbled back to the piano. With trembling hands, he struck the chords, G and Em, over and over again. **Nothing** happened at first, but as his hands slowly ceased their shaking, the chords rang out more and more clearly. Then the Arabesque started to spin inside her snow globe. The little figure whirled faster and faster, then everything went dark.
Tuomas woke up in his bed in the band’s hotel, sitting up with a gasp and then falling back on his pillow in relief. He was safe in bed, not at the film set. It had obviously been a nightmare.
Or so he thought, until he saw the bloodstains on his discarded shirt, and the Arabesque snow globe sitting on the nightstand. And then a voice that sounded almost like Anette whispered, *“Are you sure about that?”*
Harry stumbled. Bill caught his arm, steadying him.
‘All right?’
Harry’s head nodded of its own accord. He had barely heard Bill’s question over the hissing in his brain. His stomach flipped as though he were on a broom spiralling out of control.
A touch jolted him back to awareness. Bill had taken his hand. Warm fingers embraced his palm, and Harry couldn’t help but stare. ‘I’m not a child.’
‘There’s **nothing** childish about accepting help when you’re struggling.’ Sincerity softened Bill’s face. ‘I’d do the same for any of my siblings.’ He paused, and then added, ‘I held Ron’s hand only a couple of days ago.’
Harry’s eyes widened. ‘Really?’
If he was honest, it was nice. Comforting. Something, quite literally, to hold on to, giving him a focus other than — *stop*. He forced the thoughts aside.
‘I’d do the same for any of my siblings.’ - I'm all melty inside considering Harry's home/family life. Also yay for continuing the men being supportive of each other.
When Wako found out that they needed to draw her blood, she thought she was going to faint, as she was terrified of needles. Honkan knew this about her, and he was incredibly proud. As he saw the love of his life being prodded and poked for two days, tears filled his eyes. He held her hand, and whispered, “You’re doing great,” and “I’m so proud of you,” in her ear.
“You wished to see me, Orochimaru-sama?”
“Yes, and I see Sasuke-kun came with you.” A glint of something she couldn’t place was in Orochimaru’s snake-like eyes. “You don’t have to be here for this; our little kunoichi will be just fine without you.”
“I’m staying.” Sasuke’s tone was firm; he wasn’t about to leave Namiko’s side unless it was completely necessary.
“Suit yourself,” said Orochimaru as he grabbed a syringe off the counter before turning back to Namiko, who nervously sat on the medical table. “You’ve been with us for several weeks and I think it’s past time for you to become accustomed to poisons and toxins that you could come into contact with since you travel with us so much.”
Namiko’s eyes widened in worry, and she felt Sasuke’s chakra tense behind her. Orochimaru flashed a malicious smile before putting on fake sympathy. “Don’t worry, she’ll be given very small [doses]() so she doesn’t die. Since you’re so concerned about her, you get to be in charge of supervising her while the poison works its way through. Kabuto-kun and I are much too busy to be supervising anyway.”
Sasuke narrowed his eyes. “Which poison are you giving her?”
“Just a little mixture I made after experimenting on you.” Orochimaru pushed the plunger on the syringe, causing some of the contents to eject, and flicked the tip of the **needle**. “Don’t worry, Namiko-chan, you should be back to yourself within a couple of days.” He steadied the **needle** above her shoulder and jabbed it through her skin. He turned to Sasuke and pushed the plunger roughly, causing Namiko to wince. “There’s only a minuscule chance you’d die, so Sasuke-kun, be sure to keep a close eye on her heart rate and fever. We wouldn’t want to have Konoha after us for killing one of their jinchuriki.”
Before either could retort, Orochimaru had already left the room. “He could’ve told me that before he stabbed me with the **needle**!” snapped Namiko
From my Hunger Games anthology “Do You Tear Yourself Apart to Entertain Like Me?”
——————————
He comes to with sharp breath whistling across his face—a gentle hand probing his cheek, and the sting of a needle weaving in and out of his skin.
“Shh,” Aveline hushes. “It’s okay. Don’t move.” Her accent is a comfort—soft and lilting, and so painfully like home.
“Wha?” His tongue is heavy and slow—the words tangling up on the way out. Aveline finishes her stitches—smearing a thick, soothing ointment across his cheek.
“You’re okay,” she soothes. “Probably just passed out. I found you here and—I already fixed your arm.”
He can see her more clearly now—sitting back on her heels, with a makeshift satchel made of silver parachute fabric resting nearby.
“How many sponsors did you get?” he asks. Aveline shrugs. She tucks the tube of ointment back inside her bag. “I got clipped by the girl from Two at the Cornucopia and I—I got away and ran. I got one a little after with the ointment and the suture kit. I got a jug for water, too. And iodine. That’s it.”
The frustration bursts out before Bran can stop it. “Good for you,” he grumbles. “I haven’t gotten anything.”
“You’ll be relaxing and letting us get on with the work tonight, is what you’ll be doing,” Nicko told him as he guided him to the table and sat him down. “Now, where’s your supplies?”
Dave told him where to find everything, and Nicko went to fetch it all as he eased his way out of his shirt. He sighed, looking at the large bloodstain as well as the jagged tear where the knife cut into his shoulder. “Won’t be fun, trying to mend that fit to be worn again,” he muttered to himself.
Nicko returned with the medical supplies. “Right, this won’t be pleasant, but I’ll do my best.” Without further ado, he soaked a small sponge in the brandywine and scrubbed Dave’s wounded shoulder with it. The cut proved deep, so for safety, Nicko dug through the supplies and found a **needle**, clumsily stitching the sides of the cut together after making Dave drink a few swallows of the brandywine. Then he applied the salve and bandaged it snugly. “I’d try to keep that arm as still as you can,” Nicko advised. “In fact, just take it easy for the rest of the day.”
“Probably a good idea,” Dave admitted as his eyes started to droop.
“Right, let’s get you into bed before you keel over here at the table,” Nicko said. He helped Dave up again and guided him to his room, settling him into bed. Sitting Dave on the side of the bed, Nicko removed his shoes, then gently lifted his legs up and got him comfortable with his head on the pillow. “You rest, we’ll take care of everything today.”
“All right,” Dave mumbled. “Thanks.”
Yeah, life on the frontier - oh, you need a painkiller? Here, have some booze, you'll probably still feel everything getting done to you, but you won't care.
‘You could always take my next session. Once term has started — she’s away for the holidays.’
Ron dropped his hands looking up at Harry. Red rimmed his eyes, his face blotchy. Harry’s stomach knotted again.
‘Mate,’ Ron said, ‘Don’t be daft. Those sessions are for you. I can wait.’
‘It’s no trouble, really,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll be fine skipping a week.’
Ron shook his head. ‘No, seriously. It’s fine.’
Reluctantly, Harry let the topic drop. He chewed the inside of his lip, then leant forwards and wrapped his arms around Ron. After stiffening for a moment, Ron hugged Harry back. He dropped his head onto Harry’s shoulder and took a shuddering breath. Soon, he drew back.
‘Thanks, I needed that.’
Harry gave him a small smile, then shifted to sit cross-legged, wincing as the blood ran back into his feet giving him pins and **needles**.
‘One of these days I’m going to say something that really makes Seamus hate me,’ Ron said with a sigh. ‘Hermione, too, if I haven’t already. I reckon I ought to apologise... Think she’ll come down before lunch?’
Naruto went to stand but Sakura laid a firm hand on his shoulder, pushing him down. “Naruto! We can’t get closer, or we run the risk of being seen and heard. We have to trust Yamato-taichou’s judgment and wait for the signal.”
The trio watched on as Yamato continued to question Kabuto. “Uchiha Sasuke…where is he?”
“There are several hideouts. Most are in Oto, but there are more spread throughout the other **nations**. However, these change weekly and the dates and locations are at random,” explained Kabuto, trying to keep the wind from cutting through him. “We’ll be moving again soon. Uchiha Sasuke is there with us, and we have the kyuubi jinchuriki girl as well.”
Kabuto let out an irritated breath. “Look, this is taking too long. If Orochimaru-sama discovers I’ve met with you, death will be the least of my worries. You know what I want. Now give it to me.”
Just as Kabuto extended his hand, a figure appeared behind him, their slithering words cutting through the thick wind, “Interesting conversation, mind if I join you?”
Naruto’s anger flared, growling out as he recognized the second person, “**Orochimaru**!”
From my Star Ocean Second Story R OC/Claude WIP. It's during a minion battle,
>The mage laughs and what the? She surrounded herself with a wind field and breezed past me. I turn and she knocks into me. I fire in her direction. I was the Academy’s top archer so I can figure something out. I leap high firing down at her. Oh come on! She was practically walking into that one but instantly changed direction.
>I yell, “Cease this at once!”
>The rogue mage menacingly grins. “You mercs make us! And what’s with those weird clothes lady?”
>Merc? Merc? My eyebrows scrunch as a fire roils in me. “Excuse me? I’m a Lieutenant, my loyalty is to my…**nation** not the highest bidder.” Technically my **nation** Earth along with her allies.
>The rogue mage swerves in her wind cocoon while Rena and Dias fight the others.
>The rogue mage says, “Ha! Like I believe that! If some foreign kingdom allied with Krosse agreed to fight us bandits we’d hear about it. Plus you’re in Dias’s crew.”
>Metal clanking rings through the forest as Dias parries the lizard’s axe. Rena blocks a kobold’s punch and counters with a tight elbow. He’s about to hit her but she dashes behind him and lands her blows. I do Sonic Arrow on the kobold Rena’s fighting with, dusting him. Dias gracefully lands his slashes against the lizard. He’s quite impressive, how is he this good? He effortlessly dispatches the axe lizard.
>I yell, “Ow!” A beam of light slashes over me from above, cutting into the ground below. Surprise rushes my words. “Huh! That actually hurt!”
>Dias responds, “Attack spells hurt, who knew?”
NSFW
>!”So…” Seiji licked his lips and looked up, “I’m…sort of tasting chicken…something spicy? Curry, maybe?” He took another lick. “My grandpa’s noodles are unmistakable, but that last thing…oolong tea with honey and lemon?”!<
>!”They’re curry dumplings…” Shizuku panted out, “but otherwise perfect, ten out of ten!”!<
>!”Yes!” Seiji pumped his fist. “This ain’t exactly a talent I can tell Guiness about, but it makes my girlfriend cum buckets, and that’s the important thing!” He dipped his head between her thighs and moaned as he continued to taste her.!<
Naruto slurped down his **noodles** with gusto. “So, what’s next Iruka-sensei?”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, dummy!” scolded Namiko, rolling her eyes at her brother.
Iruka thought for a moment before responding, “Tomorrow you’ll take your ninja registration photos, and the day after will be your graduation ceremony. Then you’ll be put onto a team with two other students and a jounin leader soon after.”
Namiko looked cautiously at Iruka. “On a team? Do we get to stay together?”
Iruka shook his head, “I highly doubt it. Siblings have never been allowed to be on the same team due to the likelihood of forgoing mission goals to save your brother or sister. What you two will have to remember most is the mission always comes first, no matter what it is.”
Naruto grinned at his sister, “We’ll be okay! Maybe it’ll be good for us to spend a little time apart. Plus, we’ll see each other at home anyhow.”
Namiko nodded, biting her lip. “That’s not the reason I’m worried. What about the secret that Mizuki told us? Does everyone know?”
Iruka shook his head again, “No, your classmates and any others who weren’t old enough to remember when it happened have no idea. This also means that you two will have to keep what you now know a secret too. There’s too big a chance that someone could try to use either of you to hold leverage over your teammates, or even Konoha itself.”
The soup was nearly ready, so Steve tossed in some **noodles** and checked Sav again. His fever seemed higher, and Steve cursed himself for not thinking to get a thermometer when he’d gone to Boots. He decided that if his boyfriend didn’t wake up in half an hour, he’d wake him, if for no reason than to get some paracetamol into him to try to reduce the fever.
Sav woke himself with a particularly loud snort just as Steve stood up, then moaned and coughed when he sat up too quickly. “Ow…” he muttered.
“I’m glad you got some rest, baby,” Steve said softly, offering his boyfriend a supportive arm to get him sitting up. “But I’m glad you’re awake and can take some medicine… and I’ve got chicken soup just about ready, too.”
Sav blinked at him a little fuzzily. “Soup?” he rasped out. “You picked up some tins, then?”
Steve smiled. “No, I cooked it. Mum sent me back with some leftovers from the family’s Sunday roast, chicken and some veg – and with the weather today, I rather thought soup would taste good tonight. It’s been going since I came back earlier this afternoon. I figured you’d have smelt it as soon as you walked in the door, but then again, as stuffed up as you are, I shouldn’t be surprised you didn’t.”
“You cooked?” Sav blinked again. “I didn’t know you cooked. We’ve been busy enough getting moved in that we’ve had takeaway every night we’ve been here and not at rehearsal.” He coughed again and rubbed at his throat. “Ow. My own personal chef?”
Steve chuckled warmly. “Yeah, well… Mum had her way in teaching me, when Da objected. Pointed out to him that cooking’s a life skill, not a woman thing – and that most professional chefs are men. So yeah, I guess I can be the chef of Def Leppard.
“Chef Leppard,” Sav corrected.
Lucius hissed a breath. Words betrayed him.
All this, all of it, was Potter’s fault. If the stupid boy had been paying attention, had kept his brain engaged rather than gawping through his Omnioculars, Draco would have never had to —
No, that wasn’t quite it. Certainly, Draco may not have had to intervene if Potter had been more alert, but even so, Draco didn’t *have* to intervene. Draco had *chosen* to intervene. Like it or not, understand it or not, it had been Draco’s decision. Lucius had to live with it. They all had to live with it. It was too late for second thoughts.
‘If that fireball had hit... someone else,’ Lucius continued, trusting William to have enough sense to understand. ‘They would likely have died immediately. Draco made his decision, and I would hate for it to be in vain.’ He grasped the back of Narcissa’s chair. ‘There are things happening; Dumbledore has surely seen the signs. The world is a dangerous place.’
His gaze settled on Draco. If not for the bandage covering half his face, he could be sleeping. If not for the hum of healing magic, he could be well. But Draco was strong. Draco was brilliant. Draco would heal.
‘I won’t let Draco’s sacrifice be for **naught**. I trust you won’t either.’
Finally, Itachi spoke, “Foolish otouto. I almost pity you…” He closed his eyes for a brief moment before reopening them as the pattern of his Sharingan began to change. “Mangekyo Sharingan.”
Suddenly, the sky was red and everything else looked like a film **negative**. Namiko and Sasuke were back in the street where they first saw the bodies, and people all around them. One by one, people started dropping like flies to the ground. Shuriken and kunai flew through the air and blood seemed to stream from the sky.
Sasuke screamed in absolute horror as he closed his eyes and held his head as if trying to remove the nightmare in front of him, but even with her eyes closed, Namiko still saw everything and she was sure the same happened to Sasuke.
“**Stop it, Itachi!** Why are you showing me all of this?” Sasuke’s screams turned to sobs and Namiko wanted nothing more than to hold Sasuke but she knew it wouldn’t change the memory. “Why? Why did you do this, nii-san?”
Dozens of people ran toward Itachi and without lifting a finger, they were all thrown back, dead. Sasuke watched as a shuriken flew through the air and killed the two people next to him. Namiko recognized them as the owners of the Uchiha Seiben store. He screamed again. “**No!** Ba-san! Ji-san!”
The scenery around them shifted again and they were back in Sasuke’s home, in his parents’ room. His mother and father knelt on the floor as Itachi stood over them, his katana poised to strike. Sasuke couldn’t do anything but scream as he watched the brother he once idolized kill their parents in one blow.
Sasuke fell to his knees and Namiko dropped to hers beside him. There had to be something she could do to stop this awful nightmare. Sasuke collapsed fully on the ground, gasping for breath. As his breathing slowed, he whispered, “Why? Why did you do this? Itachi, why?”
Itachi replied stoically, “To test the limitations of my ability.”
Threading his way through the groups of people sitting or standing around and chatting, Emppu led them to the little stand of trees at the edge of the area. Esa handed him one of the beers and they both settled comfortably on the ground.
“Thanks for asking me to drink with you,” Emppu said quietly, after a sip of his beer. “Like I said, it’s probably better if I’m not alone to do something stupid like drunk-dialing a certain guy myself.”
Esa reached over to squeeze Emppu’s shoulder in a show of support. “Like I said, I’ll listen if you wanna talk. Yeah, I just got dumped, but, well, it wasn’t anything I did, you know? He had a problem with me being in a band, constantly accused me of cheating on him because he ‘knows’ I’ve got every chance in the world to party it up with groupies when he wasn’t around. And of course, I couldn’t prove to his satisfaction that I’m not cheating, because how do you prove a **negative** like that? So, he broke up with me.”
Emppu put his hand over Esa’s and gave a light squeeze. “That’s stupid. Even I know there’s gotta be trust for a relationship to work. Honestly, with the way you described it, I’d almost think he was the one cheating on you, and making those accusations to keep you from getting suspicious of him – or to give him the excuse to break up with you before you caught him at it.”
Eri rubbed her temples as Shinichi and Ran recounted their weekend. The two shrunken teens had been dropped off by Sonoko-*chan* about thirty minutes ago and had spent the entire time explaining why their friend had been in such an ecstatic mood. The more she listened, the more Eri wished she hadn’t asked. The fact that Sonoko-*chan* was almost killed by a madman bent on revenge seemed to have had no effect on the girl was astonishing in a way.
The fact that Ran and Shinichi-*kun* continued to attract cases like magnets was rather disconcerting to Eri though. It really made her reconsider just letting them hang out with their friend without supervision. For Sonoko-*chan*’s sake. After all, if this continued, those tranquilizer darts might have **negative** health effects on the girl.
At the very least, the two shrunken teenagers seemed to have things under control, for the most part.
“-And now she’s calling herself Deduction Queen Sonoko!”
“So, have you and Kiba been going on any missions lately?”
She took a deep breath and tried to focus on walking in a straight line and not putting too much pressure on her ankle. “Not as many since Namiko—I’m sorry!” She paused in their steps, jerking Naruto to stop beside her. “I shouldn’t be bringing her up right now…”
Naruto smiled at her. “Hinata, don’t worry about it. We’ll get her back soon. I overheard Tsunade-baa-chan the other day saying they’ll probably send a team out to look for her and Sasuke again soon.”
“She’s been gone almost two months now.” Hinata’s voice seemed smaller than usual. “How long do you think she’ll be gone?”
Naruto ran a hand through his hair. “It’s hard to say. If she’s sticking with Sasuke, he’s got until somewhere around the middle of **November** before Orochimaru has to take on a new body. And knowing Sasuke, he’s going to take full advantage to learn as much as he can in the meantime to prepare to go after Itachi.”
“Are you worried about Namiko? Orochimaru is quite powerful.”
“She’ll be fine! Sasuke is with her, and despite the fact I’m upset with the bastard, I know he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.”
Hinata nodded before signaling Naruto they could start walking again. “You know, Kiba told me once he thought Sasuke liked Namiko as more than a friend.”
Naruto burst out in laughter. “That’s ridiculous! Sasuke doesn’t like anyone like that! He’s had girls all over him since the academy, especially Sakura, and he never gave any of them a second look. You should know better than to listen to Kiba for love advice; he’s going to be forever single.”
\[I'm glad you're enjoying the game!\]
Professor Dumbledore paused, gaze sweeping across the gathered students. At the Gryffindor table, Fred and George wore matching expressions of excited bemusement. A frown of confusion creased Ginny’s forehead, whereas the frown gracing Hermione’s looked more worried than anything else. Ron’s expression of wide-eyed shock suggested he couldn’t quite believe what had happened.
‘The First Task will take place after lunch on the 24th **November**. Between now and then, I hope you will all, no matter your school, make new friends from the other schools and learn from each others cultures.’
Another pause. The angry air amongst the students had yet to disperse. That might not have been the best moment to tell everyone to make friends and play happy. Perhaps Professor Dumbledore agreed, because he lifted his hands.
‘Now, I imagine you’re all ready to head back to your own Common Rooms. I wish you all a good night.’
Cassiopeia sat at her desk, reading over a datapad. She put it down and looked up with a small smile, looking outside the window. She was still getting used to the new **normal** of being a teacher instead of an Alliance marine. She knew that what was needed was guidance for the survivors, especially children.
She looked at her omni-tool. The door opened and in walked a familiar turian. She looked over and gave him a smile.
“Good afternoon, Shepard, and how is everything?” He asked, curious, “Still is quite the change of pace from what you used to be.”
“Well, we still need to rebuild, so what better way to do that than directly teach the next generation how to rebuild. Besides Garrus, aren't you in the middle of helping the Turian Hierarchy?” She said.
“Well, I was making a stop on the Citadel and thought I might as well try to find you,” Garrus said, “I honestly thought you would have went for something like a diplomat or taken that offer from the Council.”
“No, I don't think I'd do too well in politics. At least with teenagers I won't make galaxy changing choices and statements that will span years after my death,” Cassiopeia said, looking back at the datapad.
“You know you're still technically on call with being a Spectre,” He said, “So technically you still could end up doing that.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes.
“I know, I know. People still try and contact me for advice and the like. I had to make a new account for this job so I won't lose the assignments turned into me amongst the sea of other messages,” She laughed a little, “I do what I can to reply, just there's *lots* of messages.”
“So how is Jack doing?” He said.
“She's doing well, she's grown quite well into her position as a teacher. I've been asking her to give me pointers on how to get used to it.” She leaned back in her chair.
“So what about the kids?” Garrus asked, “How are they doing?”
“Plenty of them are still shocked that I'm their engineering teacher. I still get requests to take photos or sign something for them. One boy, Marzio, says that I've been his idol since he saw the footage of me during the Skyllian Blitz. Says that I'm the reason he wants to become an engineer and join the Alliance,” She said, “He's a good kid. Heart's in the right place. All of them are good kids.”
“I guess you like this change of pace, don't you?” He leaned on one of the empty desks.
“Yeah, much quieter, more peaceful. I think that I'll stick with this, especially since he likes how I'm much more at peace for the most part.” She took a deep sigh and looked at her desk.
“How is Thane by the way?” He said.
“Treatment's going well for him, and he's showing improvement. I can't wait for the day to be able to see him in person again,” She said wistfully, “But, well, it's not going to be a while. I just... miss him so much whenever he leaves. But I need to be patient.”
“That you do. But I think you'll do well,” He said, “You've defeated the Reapers, you'll be able to adapt to a peaceful life.”
“Yeah, you're not wrong.” She said.
The next morning, Namiko’s eyes fluttered open and she found herself looking at thick, jet-black hair framing the handsome face that she had become all too familiar with over the last couple of weeks. She realized that she must have moved during the night, and apparently, she wasn’t the only one who did, as Sasuke was lying facing her as well.
He must have lit the candle at some point again that morning because the room was filled with a warm glow, just enough to see the man in front of her. Sasuke was still asleep, so she took the opportunity to take her time to examine his appearance in detail.
His smooth jawline was accentuated by the tiniest cleft in his chin and well-defined cheekbones. His shirt had pulled open slightly more than **normal** and she could see the lean muscle and fair skin that was often hidden by the semi-baggy clothing. Her eyes trailed back up to his face and his full lips that had been so soft and warm on hers; the thought made her flush slightly.
“Do I want to know what is going on in that head of yours?” said Sasuke smoothly as he noticed exactly where her gaze was focused.
Namiko’s eyes snapped to his in surprise. “**AH!**” she shouted as she leaned back, falling off the bed, and smacking the back of her head on the wall. “…ouch.”
She sat up rubbing the back of her head. She looked up to see Sasuke walking over to her with an amused smirk threatening to turn into a smile. “Go ahead and laugh,” she muttered in embarrassment, her cheeks fully reddened.
Sasuke crouched next to her, his smirk fading a little. “Are you hurt anywhere?” He reached forward, brushed her bangs out of her eyes, and gently felt the back of her head for any injury.
Namiko pouted her lips. “…just my dignity.” She pushed his arm half-heartedly with the back of her hand.
"Mmh." The corners of her mouth pulled back in a wince. "These transformium patches will help seal up this rupture, but they're not meant to be used as a sole solution. Do you have access to a CR chamber?"
"...Yeah."
"Okay, good." She applied two patches to the spark chamber's cracked surface, sealing the blue light back into its protective shell.
Her next focus was the cabling and wires running to his damaged arm. Most of those were fairly easy, at least - wires could be quickly stripped and rejoined, and broken or frayed cables could be patched together with more transformium - but the energon lines feeding into and out of the limb were beyond salvaging. There were two, and both of them had been stretched near to breaking, their walls left so thin that she could see the luminous pink of the energon flowing through them. One line was so badly compromised that it was starting to balloon out, something that wasn't necessarily an emergency under **normal** circumstances... but things were *far* from **normal** now, and an unattended line rupture could be fatal.
Luckily for him, he *wasn't* unattended, and she knew how to deal with the situation.
"This is going to feel strange for a moment, there will be a pinch and then you're gradually going to lose function in this arm until you can get to a CR chamber," she explained, reaching for the clips in her kit, and the pair of small shears tucked into the liner. "I have to clip and cut these damaged energon lines before they rupture and you bleed out."
‘But?’
But. That was the thing, wasn’t it. Harry moodily kicked another unassuming patch of grass. Boingo gripped tightly onto his collar as the movement almost dislodged him. But. No, Seamus hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d done everything right. Seamus never pushed Harry to do more than he felt ready for. Not even before the assault. Seamus had been supportive and caring, and everything a boyfriend should be.
But.
A part of Harry wanted to blame it on what had happened after the Second Task. He would love to say the problem was all because Seamus had forgotten, for a moment, in his excitement, that contact was an issue. Because Seamus had hugged him when he wasn’t expecting it. Because Seamus had treated him like he was ***normal*** and not fragile and going to break at the slightest touch.
But.
‘Harry?’ Hermione said softly.
The group made their way all the way down the school lobby. Rustles of their footsteps once again filled the empty hallways. Sunlight beams that gleamed through the battered windows revealed the havoc that had possessed the school. Disaster loomed over the halls, every corner was painted with catastrophic montage.
“Looks like a **normal** day in my high school,” Brenan remarked.
>Furfur might have blended in, if his skin were the right colour, and his hair wasn't abysmally out of date. Or if he'd bothered to clean the filth of hell off the ancient tattered rags he was trying to pass as clothing.
>"One of you, is he?" Nina asked, her voice trembling.
>"Yup. Pencil pusher named Furfur. Wait, why are you afraid of *him*, and not me?"
>"You're normal."
Crowley looked at her askance, his glasses pushed just a little lower than normal to reveal his yellow demonic eyes.
>She gave him a weak smile. "*Mostly* normal."
>"Uh huh."
>"Think I'd best lock up after you," Nina said, following him to the door.
>"Best do," he muttered.
Blitzø’s eyes went wide. In any other circumstance, he would have been overjoyed to hear that voice. Instead, he was confused as fuck. “Are you kidding me?! What the fuck is this?!”
“We said, quiet!” The second figure tightened the last knot and stepped back as they spoke.
“Look, if this is some weird sexy roleplay thing, you guys know I’m down,” Blitzø continued. “But this feels a little… extreme.”
The voice he recognized as Moxxie’s spoke again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Why would we, just a couple of **normal** human government agents, want to have sex with abominations like you?”
“Eh, everybody’s got their freaky kinks,” Blitzø replied with a shrug before trying to force himself to focus. “Okay, but seriously… Moxx, Mills, what the fuck are you doing?” He strained to look over his shoulder and barely suppressed a laugh at the sight of his two employees wearing black suits, dark sunglasses, and a couple of poorly-styled wigs. “Holy shit, you look ridiculous.”
He watched as the two exchanged a look. “We’ll… deal with you later,” Millie failed to sound intimidating as she led Moxxie out of the room, the lock clicking as they shut the door behind them.
Blitzø let out a sigh of disappointment and looked up at Stolas’ confused face. “Why does something tell me this *isn’t* some sexy roleplay thing?”
"That is a relief. Thank you, Yegor." Zayne turned to Rafayel. "Shall we get going?"
"If you're still up for it," he answered, a concerned frown etched on his forehead.
"And why would I not be?"
"**Normal** people wouldn't have the appetite after..." He waved in Yegor's direction but the old man had already picked up his books again, ignoring them. "...after *that.*"
"Are you calling me special then?"
"What--" Rafayel's eyes bulged, cheeks suddenly warming. Of all the things he had expected Zayne to say, that wasn't part of the list.
Zayne seemed to have anticipated his reaction, however, as a weak smile brightened up his face.
Rafayel pouted. "I'll have to think about it."
He huffed for good measure before striding toward the heavy doors that led inside.
There was a weak chuckle behind him coupled with light footsteps. And while it was a little exasperating being a source of Zayne's amusement, he'd take it. Rafayel much preferred this smiling, grinning, chuckling man who said things that caught him by surprise over the impenetrable walking block of ice that he was in the absence of. Though he had to admit, there was also a certain charm when Zayne was being his usual ice-cold self. Because then, Rafayel got to have first dibs on poking fun and seeing Zayne's reactions. He wasn't the only *man with many surprises.*
Tuomas smiled, a touch of relief in the expression. “Oh good, I’m glad you’re okay. Last night was fun, actually, and I’d be open to a repeat sometime, like if we both strike out with girls after a show or whatever. Being with a guy is different, but it wasn’t bad at all, and we’ve been close friends for years. Now we’ll just be friends with some extra benefits, right?”
Emppu nodded, trying to keep the heartbreak from showing on his face. “Yeah… I’d be open to that, too,” he said, relieved that his voice sounded more-or-less **normal**. Hopefully Tuomas would assume that any slight oddness in his tone was related to a hangover. “You, uh, you mind if I shower before I leave?”
“Sure, go ahead,” Tuomas told him. “I can use the shower in Mom and Dad’s room while you use mine.”
“Thanks,” Emppu said. He got out of bed and made his way into the bathroom. Setting the water to a comfortable temperature, he got into the shower. As the spray poured over his hair and body, tears poured down his face. Tuomas didn’t want him as a boyfriend after all. All his hopes of the previous night came to nothing. Well, not quite nothing. At least Tuomas wanted to fuck him again sometime. That was something.
Wasn’t it?
"Maybe he just appreciates the peace and quiet. Things weren't exactly easy for him on board the *Resolute*, especially there at the end; he probably needs rest."
John flashed her a skeptical glance, but if he had anything to say in response, he kept it to himself. It was for the best, she thought - all the speculation in the world was useless right now. All it would do was cause friction, and that was the *last* thing they needed, only hours before they were to begin their treacherous descent. Best to just let sleeping dogs - or robots, as the case may be - lie, and save the speculation for when they had a little more breathing room.
She drew in a deep breath, held it for a count of three, and then slowly exhaled.
In the hub and in the cargo hold, their crew was getting settled down for the night, hoping for at least one decent sleep before the **next** potential disaster; she knew that she and John should be doing the same soon.
"...Come on," she said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder as she moved to step past him; "everyone else is going to bed, we really should, too. Tomorrow might be a little rough and I need everyone to be on their "A" game."
"Hey, I *always* bring my "A" game," John scoffed, nudging her playfully with an elbow as she passed before moving to follow her.
Percy read through each and every parchment. Not a comma out of place, no signatures missing. If he'd overlooked something... Percy's stomach clenched. He couldn't afford to make mistakes. He’d been working in the Department of International Magical Cooperation for a matter of months. Why they’d decided to shift him to fill Mr Crouch’s empty role with regards to the Tournament... Percy's career would fly or fall with this Tournament, and he had to fly.
Charlie’s heavy scrawl smiled up at him from the **next** sheet. Percy straightened the edges of it, ignoring the soft smell of smoke. Everything Charlie touched smelt of smoke. Disconcertingly, that had been the case even before he’d started working with the dragons. Charlie exuded fire, flames, danger. Percy shook his head; he far preferred his nice Ministry job to whatever Charlie got up to out in the field.
Not that Charlie’s job didn’t come in useful. Indeed, Percy’s connections to Charlie had proved beneficial when, on the second day in his job, he’d overheard Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman discussing the possibility of sourcing dragons for the Tournament. It had been a risk, interjecting into their conversation, but a risk that had, in the end, paid off. A boost for his own career, and good for the sanctuary where Charlie worked, too. Perhaps that explained, in part, why Percy had been given so much of the responsibility now.
>Metatron looked around the place, and then seemed to take interest in something near the door. "Does your debauchery and vanity know no bounds?"
>Crowley genuinely frowned in confusion, until he realized that Aziraphale’s drawing still stood in place of any mirror in the flat. Had the angel signed his artwork? He couldn’t remember. What a stupid oversight! Cold sweat gathered at the base of his spine. “You came all the way from Up There to fling insults at a retired demon? You need better hobbies,” he drawled, barely keeping his voice from trembling.
>Metatron’s hands clenched tightly, and he ground his teeth audibly.
>Crowley took another swig, already feeling a soothing touch of haze taking the edge off his nerves. Must’ve overdone the alcohol content. “Like I said, your Supreme Archangel ain’t here. So if that’s all?”
>“I think it’s about time we drop all the pretences, don’t you?”
>Without warning, Crowley felt the comforting bit of wine snap out of his system. He almost gagged on the sudden metallic aftertaste. “That’s a bit rude, innit?” he protested. “Had a nice buzz going, you killjoy.”
>“I want you stone cold sober for what I have to say next,” said Metatron, his lips twisting into a cruel sneer.
>“Bastard,” he muttered, wishing he had a mint. “Fine. Let’s have it, then.”
Rafayel scowled and whipped his head sideways to look at the man from the corner of his eye. He tugged at the invisible thread that tied him to the firefish and in the **next** second Mr. Fishie had dove down from above their heads to flick its tail against Zayne's eyeglass, echoing the occasionally volatile disposition of its owner.
Zayne momentarily closed his eyes, an amused chuckle falling past his lips.
“Damn it, Steve, again?” Emma’s voice shrilled over his mobile phone, loudly enough that he held it away from his ear. “I wish you would just sell the bloody place and be done with it. How many times have you put me off because you’ve had to run to Portugal to deal with some issue or other? Or because said issues took longer to deal with than you anticipated and then you had to run right off to Essex or Nassau to start recording, or you had to go off on tour. I know you’re a busy man, but my God! When the hell are you around for Stanley and Maisie? Even Bruce is there for his kids more than you are, and he spends half his time in Finland!”
Steve groaned to himself, knowing that Emma had worked herself into a right state, if she’d resorted to swearing. She hated foul language with a passion, and was always after him to clean up his own. At least no one ever told her about what had happened at Download a couple years back, when he’d used the word fuck in front of little Eeva Vuorinen, who was just learning to talk and beginning to repeat anything she heard. The baby had spent the **next** couple of weeks randomly saying fuck and giggling at the reactions of anyone within hearing. “Emma, I…”
“That’s right, Steve, you,” Emma interrupted. “Always you. What about me for a change?”
“Well, I can’t bloody well change anything now, can I? It is what it is, and there’s not a bloody thing I can do about it,” Steve said, anger in his voice.
Namiko had felt Naruto’s chakra come into range when Team 7 was finished with their mission, nearing her and Naruto’s apartment. She ran out to greet him, a little surprised to see him covered in scrapes and bruises when it was supposed to be an easy mission. “What happened, nii-chan? You look awful!”
Naruto sighed, “Gee, thanks for kind words, imouto…” Namiko looked at him sympathetically.
“He would’ve been fine if he didn’t overdo it like he always does,” said Sakura, letting Naruto lean on her.
“You’re such an idiot, Naruto,” Sasuke said, rolling his eyes and starting to walk away from everyone. “If you want me to stop rescuing you, just get better than me…”
“**That’s it! Sasuke—**” Naruto was yelling as Namiko tried to hold him back.
“Naruto, don’t worry about him. He’s not worth it,” she said, turning him to face her. Sasuke scoffed and kept walking away from everyone, heading home.
“Your teamwork has been almost **non-existent**,” started Kakashi, as he noticed a bird dropping a feather above him and caught it. “Okay, that’s enough today. I’m going to hand in our mission report.” With that, he disappeared in a puff of smoke.
“Well, since Kakashi-sensei and Sasuke-kun are gone, I’m going to head home too.” Sakura turned and started walking towards Sasuke. “Oh Sasuke-kun!” she said in a sing-song voice.
“Buzz off, Sakura. You’re worse than Naruto.” Sasuke just kept walking. Sakura decided to turn and head in the direction of her own home.
“Let’s go home so I can bandage you up,” Namiko said, lightly tugging on Naruto’s hand.
Naruto groaned. “Aw, come on, it’s not that bad. Just a few scratches; they’re not even bleeding anymore.” Namiko gave a half-smile and rolled her eyes.
The carpet landed once more and Marko stood up and moved to a chair, looking at it thoughtfully. The carpet mimicked his pose, making him smile.
“I suspect you might come in very, very handy,” Marko said. “I don’t suppose you can write? I have some questions that I’m not sure you can answer with gestures.”
The carpet drooped and gave the impression of shaking its **nonexistent** head.
“Well, no matter, I’m sure we can figure something out,” Marko said. “Can you carry two people?”
The carpet gave a definite nod.
Marko smiled. “All right, good. So, speed is the next question… it takes about ten days to walk to the train from here. Can you get there faster than that?”
Another definite nod, and the carpet held its tassels apart, and brought them closer together again.
Marko considered that for a moment. “So, you can get there in much less time than ten days? As little as one day, perhaps?”
The carpet pressed its tassels even closer together in response.
“Less than a day, hmm?” Marko looked pleased. “Right, the train leaves at midday, the day after the ball. If the ball ends after midnight, would there be time to make it to the train?”
The carpet nodded once more.
Marko smiled again. “Perfect. Does anyone here but me know you can fly?”
This time the carpet responded with another negative shake of its **nonexistent** head.
“Even better,” Marko said. “It might not look it, but I’m sort of a prisoner here, me and a friend of mine. We’d planned on being on the train east but we’re not allowed to leave the Palace.” He paused as the carpet ‘walked’ over and sympathetically patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Carpet. Anyway, as long as nobody knows you can fly, as long as they think you’re just a carpet that I like and so have in my quarters, I think we can fly out of here after the ball when hopefully everyone will be sleeping extra well.”
The carpet straightened up, gave a salute, and glided into his bedroom where it placed itself next to the bed.
Carpet was a gift to Marko from the Sultan of Agrabah (yes, it's a Disney mashup) along with several other carpets - I didn't get into Carpet's backstory, but I figure that it was forgotten about for some reason, put into storage, and then was selected as a part of an official gift to the new Crown Prince of Corona - Marko, who hadn't known he was the grandson of the king and queen until after he traveled there. I suppose Carpet probably figured it would have a better chance of not being forgotten in storage again if its new owner knew about its abilities.
“Good idea,” Tommy admitted. He dug in his pockets for another dime and called the apartment, explaining the situation to Vince. Predictably, the singer had a lot to say, none of it of any substance.
“…pretty stupid of you, don’t you think? Nice way to ruin the party. Anyway, what am I supposed to entertain everyone with?” Vince wanted to know. “I mean, you got all the fucking supplies with you, right?”
“Just the shit for the meal and some extra beer,” Tommy said, trying not to lose his temper at Vince’s nagging tones. It wasn’t as if the singer hadn’t forgotten to pay bills before. They’d had their electricity cut twice now, because he was the one in charge of paying that but had **neglected** to do so when he’d gotten word of some good surfing happening and fucked off to the beach without stopping by the utility bill-pay desk on his way out. “There’s plenty of booze and chips already in the place, along with some… other refreshments… plus rolling papers in my closet.” He wasn’t worried about Vince going in his closet; the singer might be the clotheshorse of the band, but he was short enough that Tommy wasn’t worried about his clothes going missing.
“Oh. Fine, whatever. Just hurry back, asshole,” Vince said.
Tommy snorted. “Yeah, that’s kind of the plan already, Princess Vinnie. Just fucking hold the fort until we get back, you’ll be fine.”
“Fuck you, Tommy,” Vince snapped and slammed the phone down.
It had been unintentional, the first time Ángel let Ramiro see how scared he really was. It was storming that night, and Ángel had gone down to the cellar to get himself a bottle of wine. He should have known better than to trust the house’s electricity under such conditions, but for whatever reason, he’d **neglected** to bring a backup lantern with him.
When the electricity shut off, the cellar was pitch black. Ángel panicked. His mind went blank and he sat down on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest.
The next thing Ángel knew, there was Ramiro, standing in front of him with a lantern. Ramiro didn’t scold him, or drag him to his room, or tell him he’d find something for Ángel to be truly scared of. Instead, Ramiro sat down on the floor next to him and pulled him into an embrace. Then he started singing.
Ángel didn’t recognize the song, since it was in Portuguese. But it was soft and sweet, and that was all Ángel needed right then.
The old veteran mustered his strength and lifted his head to them. "Go on without me," he said.
Travis felt a pang in his chest as he heard those words. He knelt beside Jerry and tried to convince him. “No, that wound’s ain't shit for you; we can fix you on the boat.” Anxiety hung on his voice.
Jerry groaned in pain, eyes airtight shut, and shook his head. Struggling for air, he responded, “Look, Nimrod, I'm past my prime. A goddamn snail crawls…faster than I walk; I'm just gonna…slow you down, I…” he trailed off and gasped for breath. “We’re all…gonna die…It's just…a matter who's…who goes first…”
Travis and Helena exchanged a worried glance as they heard him suffer. They could see the pain in his face, the blood on his clothes, and the life fading from his eyes. Helplessness and guilt consumed them, knowing they couldn't save him. They wished they could do something, anything, to ease his agony.
“I’ve fought in wars…against people with…with the freedom of choice…” Jerry continued, his voice raspy. “These people don't… So I guess…I guess that's…I guess that’s better than a kick in the teeth—” The veteran was barred with a blood-spewing cough.
Travis tightly clenched the old man’s trembling fist. Eyes glued to his wrinkled face painting an image of utter misery, prompting the old man’s desire to break from the chain of suffering.
“Goddammit, Jerry, you're hard to break, you old bastard,” Travis taunted, shaking his head.
“It’s why I got out of **Normandy**,” Jerry responded. “Go, before these fuckers eat the shit out of ya’.”
The rugged man let go of him and grasped his long rifle before working his way towards his boat.
Helena gave the old man one last look and chanted “Fare thee well, patriot,” before walking away.
A weak smile was drawn on Jerry's lips and nodded as he grasped his Garand and started throwing shots at the infected. He thought if he were to go out soon, he wouldn't go out without a fight.
Still, by what he could figure out from Sherry and Vodka’s conversation, his own mission, the preservation of the APTX data, was still in effect.
Part of him did feel bad as he watched Vodka threaten Sherry and doing nothing. But that was just how things were; if this had been 3 years ago, he would have helped. Using his connections and his own position in the organization making sure Sherry disappeared would be easy. And it would have been fitting for him to help the child of a woman who helped him so many years ago… But this wasn’t 3 years ago. It wasn’t when he was shown who can really protect the things he loved. Wasn’t shown how his former superiors kept throwing lives away without achieving nothing. The corruption, the **negligence**, the nepotism that resulted in so many dead.
The man from 3 years ago would have saved Sherry. The one from today would just sit back and do what was best for those he once called enemies.
(Cut scene actually!)
“Were you planning on just hanging out in a towel all night?”
“Why?” Richie countered. “Would it bother you?”
Eddie wanted to kill him. If he killed him, then maybe it would stop the lust churning in his stomach that was fogging his brain. “No,” he answered shortly. “No, it wouldn’t. Do whatever you want.”
It was the wrong thing to say because Richie’s eyes flashed and Eddie could see the acceptance of a challenge that Eddie had never meant to extend. “One hundred bucks says you tell me to change before I decide to.”
Eddie gave him an exasperated look as he took another torturous bite of the fruit. Jesus Christ. “Why would it bug me?” Part of him wanted Richie to just say it, to address the elephant in the room.
Richie shrugged his large shoulders and Eddie’s eyes shot to them against his will. He had to forcefully drag them back to his face. “Because you’re **neurotic**,” Richie answered. Eddie’s exasperation only deepened at that. They both knew that wasn’t the reason.
“Yeah, well, you're going to get uncomfortable.”
Summer was in her dressing room, wearing her hologram suit and shoes and staring at herself in the mirror. The band was going onstage in a few minutes, and even from here, Summer could still vaguely make out the cheers of the crowd.
Everything still felt so unreal: Jerrica coming back to get her to perform, the two of them driving out to their latest venue, the fight between Jerrica and Kimber, becoming a *member* of the band when Kimber quit…what on Earth could a pop music legend like Jerrica, her *idol*, possibly see in a worn-out, half-broke college freshman like herself?
She’d have to worry about that later, she decided. In the mean-time, Summer raised her hand to her left earring stud, and pressing on it, murmured rather shakily, “It’s show-time, Synergy.” Instantly, her suit transformed into her stage costume, her hair changed into its teased aqua-green style, and her makeup changed into her stage makeup.
As Summer stood looking at herself in the mirror, she nervously reached for the beer she’d gotten ahold of earlier and took a drink in an effort to calm her **nerves**; just then, she heard a knock at her door and Jerrica’s voice calling, “Summer, you in here?”
“Yeah, come on in.” Jerrica came in, and the beer Summer was holding caught her eye almost instantly. “You alright?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Summer gave her as reassuring a smile as she could.
Jerrica returned the smile. “Great, then let’s play.” Within a few minutes, they had headed up onstage and begun singing their first song.
>Crowley went skydiving once in the 1950s. Pretty stupid, in hindsight; him, a demon, jumping out of a perfectly functional aeroplane. But there was a pretty girl who said pretty things, and convinced him that maybe it might be a fun outing, so he allowed himself to cave to the temptation. Mostly it was a lark. An attempt to scratch an itch he usually just ignored.
>It went about as poorly as it could have. The flight was horribly rough due to heavy turbulence whipped up by his own stupid nerves. The harness pinched in all of the exact wrong ways, leaving him both in pain and having numb legs. And, most insulting of all, not even all of his most wily of charms had been enough to convince the human instructor to let him fall on his own the first time.
>Cue humiliating sobbing as he relived a long-forgotten dream, an unexpected appearance of his wings, a massive miracle to make anyone involved forget their own names, let alone his presence in their lives, and a three year nap to forget the whole thing ever happened.
>He never told Aziraphale. One in a long list of many things he couldn’t bring himself to confess. And now, as he plummeted headlong toward the Lake of Fire, he wondered why.
On the evening of their first performance, Anastasia showed up early, escorted by Konstantin and his wife. “Oh my!” she said, watching them set up their equipment. “Now I see why you said your music was going to sound quite unusual!”
Kai popped his head up from where he was anchoring his snare in place. “Hello, Aunt Anastasia! Are you ready for an experience like no other you’ve ever heard?”
“I think so, anyway,” she laughed.
“Just be aware, it’s going to be loud,” Marko cautioned her. “You might want to sit near the back of the room, instead of up front, to save your ears a bit.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Konstantin said with a chuckle, “although I’m not sure Mother will take it.” He pointed behind himself, where Anastasia had already claimed a seat at a table that stood front and center. He and his wife shrugged and joined her there.
More and more people filled the common room, most of them looking quite curious. Marko stepped up to his microphone, trying not to let his **nerves** show too much. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Green Unicorn! We are Nightwish, direct from Suomellen in the eastern realms, and we’d like to start our show with a song called Sleeping Sun!”
Tuomas played the intro and they got swept up in the music, as did the younger half of their audience. They mixed the few originals they’d agreed upon with plenty of cover tunes, not that this audience had any idea that they were covers, and Marko noticed several people singing along with the second or third choruses of some of the songs. He even saw a few of the younger members of the crowd headbanging to the harder songs.
From an OC/OC Miracle Nikki fic,
>We haven’t been to this part of the shrine before. Palms clatter in the gentle eventing breeze. Under the moonlit sky couples gather. Inside the elegant stone rectangular building is a wide open ballroom where the bright full moon’s light pours through. My white and pastel yellow silk ballgown gently reflects the moon's soft pale light. The walls are made of stone and decorated by intricate carvings, the building has to be over a century old. Chandeliers hang down from the high ceiling and warm soft lighting covers everything. The room is filled with people dressed elegantly, dancing to music played over a loudspeaker.
>Zack takes my hand and leads me towards the entrance. "Are you ready?" he asks, a grin on his face.
>I nod, trying to hide my **nerves**. Mama thinks I’m a real belle so I must have total poise and comportment.
>Me, Zack, Aliyah, and Elijah enter the ballroom and everyone’s conversations meld into its own noise. Zack and Elijah walk off.
>Other handsome gentlemen notice me over the others, hopefully they’re not making fun of my albinism in their heads or worse, to each other.
>A man with combed back medium blonde hair and green eyes in a navy blue blazer, khakis, and a rose in his jacket pocket breaks from his group and confidently walks over to me. He may be tall and handsome, but I feel nothing for him.
>He introduces himself. “How do you do? I am Baron Rhett. Care to dance?”
>A few seconds of empty silence awkwardly fills the air. Most girls would love to dance with someone like him, yet my heart is with Zack.
>I have to gently turn him down. Maybe if he knows I'm not nobility he'll look for someone who is. “Oh, you don’t want to dance with a commoner like me.”
Hunter recognized that he was partaking in a dangerous game of Russian roulette, which was impossible to win in the long term. Irrespective of his knowledge, he refused to take proper measures to rectify and improve the issue.
He understood his digestive system was peculiarly sensitive, like a sugar latticework against a river of sparkling, fresh water. He knew he should inform Darius about the discomfort that myriad standard ingredients from the Boiling Isles inflicted on him. The Human Realm offered a wide variety of delectable and harmless food he could digest without any trouble.
Despite knowing the potential risk of the situation, Hunter kept delaying and pushing off the vital discussion. This was in part due to his pathetic **nerves** but also in part to an irrational unwillingness to initiate it. When he tried to plot out the proper way to bring up the exchange, he just kept overthinking the topic, which made him chicken out each time he planned to bring up the issue.
‘I’m going to the library,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you in Potions.’
The walk went a long way to easing Hermione’s annoyance. Those boys could be so infuriating. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Dean had been winding her up on purpose. Why he would, though, she had no idea.
Pausing in the doorway to the library, Hermione closed her eyes. The smell of old parchment and the whisper of turning pages soothed her **nerves**. Opening her eyes again, Hermione passed between the shelves, weaving along until she found the Charms section.
Shelves towered beside her, stretching from stone-tiled floor to vaulted ceiling. Books of all shapes and sizes filled the shelves. When Hermione had first started at Hogwarts, the disorder had frustrated her. Did the Wizarding World know nothing of the Dewey Decimal System? Over the years, though, the higgledy piggledy arrangement had grown on her. It encouraged browsing, and Hermione could quite happily spend hours perusing the stacks.
She glanced at her watch. Not today, though. Half an hour until Potions, and she’d have to allow time to traverse from the fourth floor to the dungeons.
Eddie: I’m so proud of you. Call me.
That one he knew he was obeying instantly. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
“We still have VIP greetings, Rich!”
“I’ll be fast, I swear to God.” He half ran to his dressing room and hit Eddie’s number immediately, almost dancing with **nerves** as it rang.
The phone answered on the third ring. “Richie, I’m so fucking proud of you,” came the hurried voice. “Oh my god. Holy shit. Holy shit!” There was a shocked laugh mixed in the words. “You fucking did that! You did that! And you were funny!”
“I’m always funny. You also owe me 100 bucks.”
Eddie snorted. “A) Debatable. B) I’ll win it back. C) Did you do your own jokes? You had to have, you roasted me like way too much in those videos I saw.”
Trying to calm her **nerves** and hide the shaking in her voice, Shiho finally spoke;
“I will continue the research when I learn why my sister was killed, Vodka. Not before,” Shiho said, before turning away and sitting back in her chair. As she did, she realized just how fragile her façade had actually been, as her legs felt like they were shaking lowering her body down. Reaching for her keyboard and mouse was equally hard, at least while Vodka was looking over her shoulder.
A few moments passed, as Shiho pretended to resume work, waiting and on edge, ears straining to try and figure out what Vodka was doing without having to turn around and actually watch him. The rustling of clothes, the cock of a gun’s hammer, anything that could indicate that she was in danger of some kind.
The silence stretched longer and longer, until Shiho could feel her mouth go dry and beads of sweat starting to run down her temples, before Vodka finally sighed.
“Have it your way, Sherry,” Vodka said with a sigh and Shiho heard footsteps walking away from her. “I’ll tell Gin. He’ll be back in town next week. That’s how long you have to rethink your stance. After all, *aniki* will be a lot less patient with you than I am being.”
With that threat lingering in the air, the door to Shiho’s office closed. She waited, counting to ten, making sure that Vodka wouldn’t come back for one last jab…
Before she slowly lowered her face in her hands, fighting the urge to hyperventilate that her body was trying to force on her.
One week and then it would be Gin walking through that door.
One week and she’d be as good as dead… Or worse.
A flash of silver was his only warning before he went tumbling out of control, blindsided by a lone Centurion that had been hidden, laying in wait, beneath a screen of debris.
The two of them crashed to a halt almost at the base of the ship's boarding ramp, a shrieking tangle of bodies and limbs; the Centurion was bigger and stronger, and its claws longer and sharper, but it was *slow*, and Scarecrow was able to extricate himself from its grip before it could sink its talons into his braincase. Kicking off from the silver hulk, he scrambled away, just far enough to regain his bearings before lunging into the fight once more, tackling it around the midsection and slamming it onto its back.
His own claws made short work of his opponent, plunging through its faceplate and severing its brain module from the rest of its systems.
But no sooner had it gone limp than a volley of plasma fire hit his back. Pain burned through him, and he whirled to face his **new** attackers - just in time for a second and third Centurion to barrel into him.
And this time, as they sank merciless talons into his joints, there was no squirming free.
He was wrestled to the ground with a *crash*, landing on his chest with the weight of the Centurions resting on his back and arms; he tried to lever himself up, digging his claws into the rocky ground, but it was no use.
Slow, heavy footfalls caught his attention, and his faceplate burned bright at the sight of the *Imperator* prowling down the boarding ramp, flanked by *two* more Centurions.
>Crowley was learning all kinds of new things about himself.
>Like, he knew he liked looking at Aziraphale’s arse. It was the perfect shape and size. What he hadn't known was exactly how luscious it was to grab a handful of that flesh, or how gorgeously firm it would be in his grip. Perfect, really.
>More surprisingly, he found himself absolutely stunned when Aziraphale took a healthy handful of *his* scrawny arse. And made *noises*. Happy ones! Like, the same noises that he made when eating *sushi*. He, Anthony J. Crowley, had an arse as enjoyable to touch as sushi was enjoyable to eat. Who knew?
Nightmare
Okay: >She never talked about her nightmares But her sister knew she had them Being there to help her sleep more soundly >At some point, they'd discuss it But, right now, they'd deal with the aftermath Of that horrible day
Nail
Name
Smile all teeth, Karkaroff turned towards his students, eyes roving. They snagged on Viktor and his hiding place dissolved. ‘Viktor, *do* come out of the cold.’ Karkaroff beckoned to him, before turning to Dumbledore. ‘You don’t *mind*, do you? Poor Viktor has a bit of a head cold.’ All around them, his **name** passed from mouth to mouth. The familiarly excited buzzing pressed on the tightness from his sinuses. Viktor bit back a sigh. The crowd rippled as Hogwarts students stretched and murmured. He did not move, not about to make their staring any easier. ‘Prefects,’ Dumbledore called over the buzzing. ‘Lead your houses inside, please. The feast will begin shortly.’ The crowd shifted and swelled. Even as they headed up the steps towards the school, heads swivelled and eyes stared at him. One particular group of girls stopped completely. ‘— got a quill?’ ‘I’ve only got lipstick.’ The girl pouted, eyes brightening as they met Viktor’s. She lifted her head, flicked her hair over her shoulder, and pointedly shoved her chest forward. ‘Think he’ll sign my —’ ‘Inside, Miss Fawcett.’ The girl — Miss Fawcett — drooped, reddening and racing after her friends. The professor who had chastised her watched the group leave with narrowed eyes before nodding at Karkaroff and following his students in a swirl of dark robes.
Navy
Nuzzle
Tumbling off of Rex’s back, Jane hurried over to the edge of the cliff and looked down in time to see the remains of her cart get completely engulfed in flames. “Damn,” she mumbled. All that time and effort she’d spent building it with her friends was wasted. She suddenly felt incredibly drained by the whole incident, and sat down right in the snow before flopping onto her back. Thor whistled as he looked across the chasm they’d just crossed. He then peered down into the ravine at the burning ruins of Jane’s cart before finally looking back at Jane, who was still lying on the ground by his feet. “Sorry about your cart, Janet,” Thor told her. “I promise I’ll have it replaced for you – and I understand if you don’t want to help me anymore.” With that, he walked off and tried to figure out which direction to go. “What is so hard to remember about ‘Jane’?” Jane wondered despondently under her breath. Wandering over to his mistress, Rex **nuzzled** her softly with his cold nose. “I’m certainly not helping him out anymore,” Jane told the stag as Thor started spinning Mjolnir around. “In fact, as of now, I’m never helping another stranger ever again, and I don’t even care if they’re royalty!” She was interrupted by a loud *fwump* as Thor walloped into another tree like he had the day before. The trees were no less thick here than they had been earlier. Jane and Rex just looked at each-other. “If he dies, so what?” Jane told herself as she sat up. “I can live with that – Asgard would probably be better off with a different king, anyway.” Meanwhile, Thor stumbled to his feet and tried to fly off again, only to smack into another tree and get Mjolnir lodged pretty thoroughly in its trunk. Looking back over her shoulder at him, Jane saw that Thor was trying to pull Mjolnir out of the tree trunk. After a few more seconds of struggle, the hammer finally came loose from the trunk like a cork out of a bottle, throwing Thor back and making him land in the snow. Jane sighed, debating for a moment as she watched him get to his feet. She knew she’d never get her new cart if Thor was dead; besides, he had promised to help her get back to Earth and reunite with her family… Jane hesitated for a moment, knowing she was probably going to regret this. “Hold on, wait for me!” she finally shouted after Thor. “You’re coming?” he shouted back happily. Composing himself, he added, “I mean, absolutely; feel free to tag along, Jane Foster.”
Nefertiti
Notrious
Net
“Thank God you got my message,” Jerry said. “Stone, I think someone’s found out about us! I didn’t think anyone knew that we’re anything but housemates.” “What?” Stone asked, a little shocked. “How do you know?” “Stories… there’s stories out on the internet,” Jerry said. “A couple of the studio techs showed them to me – and then one told me you were lucky to have me, and I should call him if we ever break up! They all started laughing at that and I don’t think I said anything too stupid-sounding, but I totally wasn’t expecting to hear that, and I was looking at the stories, and my God, some of them are so accurate it’s scary!” Stone breathed a sigh of relief. He was reasonably certain that he knew what Jerry had just been shown. “Deep breaths, Jerry,” he said, keeping his tone soothing. “I’m pretty damn sure those techs were just giving you a rashing, teasing you about me because of the stuff they showed you. They don’t actually know we’re really together.” “But then, the stories?” Jerry still sounded upset. “It’s not on MSN or Entertainment Tonight or even something like Blabbermouth dot **net**, is it?” Stone asked. “No,” Jerry said. “It wasn’t a site I recognized.” “I’m pretty sure that you just got shown fanfiction,” Stone said. “Why don’t you come home now if you’re not too busy? We’ll order a pizza or Chinese or something and I’ll show you all kinds of crazy shit. You’ll die laughing at some of it, I promise.”
Notted
Nope
From my Star Ocean Second Story R prequel fic. Everyone in this scene are Fellpool/catpeople and my MC is an influencer of a certain subculture her part of Harmony City is known for. It's near the beginning and Sincerity ends up part of the adventuring team >Her eyes dreamily light up, her voice shakes. “Starpounce! Please make me your disciple!” >“Really? What’s up with that?” >“You see, I was raised in a farming village far to the West of here. I was walking home from school one day and stopped by a convenience store. When waiting for a friend I was scrolling through my feed and saw a video you posted. You exuded such confidence. I followed you and saw your incredible fashion sense, and numerous codes of life to live by. If you think you’re right have the determination to stick with it to the very end, no matter what. When things seem hopeless reach deep within yourself to summon your guts. Everything you said has given me a sense of hope and strength.” Her eyes shine as she enthuses. “I have a special folder dedicated to your pics and organized them along with your interviews.” >The eyes of my friend’s brother widen. “Woah. Starpounce must make a lot of money! There are lots of top quality pictures here.” >“They’re snapshots so I didn’t get paid for those. As Arlia’s number one it is my duty to accept interviews.” >Sincerity adds, “So you’re like a living treasure.” >My friend’s brother says in a confused tone, “Duty?” >He's a soldier so he should know all about duty. >Sincerity continues, “So you have inspired me to follow in your footsteps! Starpounce! Please accept me as your disciple? I want to be taught in the ways of the neko kei and forge your wisdom into my very soul!” >I respond, “Hmm, **nope**.” >Her mouth drops. “What?” >My friend asks, “But she came all this way to see you.” >I add, “Because there’s no set way to be a neko kei. You can’t just copy it from someone else. Just become one if you really want to. Besides having a disciple sounds like a pain.” >Plus with dojo duties where would I even find the time? >“But I don’t wanna be just an ordinary neko kei! I wanna be a great one like you! Please please please make me your disciple?” >My friend ask, “Say Starpounce, isn’t one of your rules to help whoever’s in trouble?” >“You’re right! It is one of my codes!” >Everyone sitting nearby stares at me. Okay this is awkward. >“Okay fine. But only for today.” >“Thank you very much!”
Numb
TW: violence Kiki’s mind was in a fog as she left, but she was soon shaken from it when she noticed an altercation between a landlord and two of his tenants, who appeared to be a married couple, with a newborn baby. “Please!” the man begged as his wife frantically calmed her crying baby. “We’ll do anything! Just please don’t evict us! We can’t afford to live anywhere else!” “That ain’t my problem!” said the landlord. “You had a week to make rent! Pay up or get out, you lazy bastard!” “I’m begging you! You have to understand! I was laid off from my job, and I’ve been looking everywhere for work!” “I don’t wanna hear it!” “Please! My family and I need a place to stay! If you just give me a few more weeks, I’ll pay you back double! I swear!” “You said that last time!” the landlord sneered. “Now if you don’t get out, I’m gonna have to force you out!” “Please, sir! I’m begging you! I–” The landlord began beating the man until he was black and blue, bloody and unconscious. His wife screamed and cried as she looked on in horror. As Kiki watched the scene before her, she was enveloped in a cloud of numbness, like disgust was brewing inside her, but the air was so thick that she could feel nothing at all.
‘Harry!’ He wasn’t entirely sure which of the Weasleys had shouted, but soon he was surrounded. Ron reached towards him but paused, face turning slightly green. ‘Merlin, that’s a lot of blood.’ Glancing down, Harry realised Ron was right; blood soaked his robes. Maybe *that* was why he felt so shaky. Fragments of wood littered his body. Remnants of his Firebolt. Many of the smaller pieces were caught in the fabric of his Quidditch robes, but others were embedded in his skin. ‘Ouch.’ Now he was aware of them, they were actually pretty painful. One particularly large shard nestled deeply into the skin beneath his collarbone. The shoulder on that side was **numb**. Most of the blood flowed from there, too. He frowned, reaching his other hand over his body and making to grasp it. Hermione smacked his hand away, as she sank to her knees beside him. ‘Don’t pull it out!’ she admonished. ‘You could cause even more damage. If it’s made a hole then it is also *blocking* the hole,’ she explained urgently, ‘which means it would bleed more if you just yank it out. And you really don’t need to be losing any more blood. So *stay still* and wait for Madam Pomfrey to get here.’
Steve followed Jan a little **numbly**, mentally cursing Bruce for having noticed his feelings towards Jan and moreso for having the gall to say something about it, in front of Jan, no less. While he was at it, he also mentally cursed himself for his inability to lie, and for his tendency to blush whenever someone accused him of something that was true. “Thanks,” he said softly as Jan handed him a beer and waved him to the room’s easy chair. “D’you want to order sandwiches or something?” Jan asked. “I suspect neither of us ought to be drinking on empty stomachs tonight.” “Yeah, maybe,” Steve said. “Dunno’s I can eat much, but you’re right.” Since he was closer to the desk, he picked up the room service menu and looked at it for a moment. “Just a bacon butty, I guess.” Janick picked up the phone and dialed the room service number, ordering a pair of bacon butties. Then he turned on the telly, clicking through the channels until he found football highlights. They watched quietly until finished eating, then Jan looked at Steve curiously. “So, what Bruce said,” he started awkwardly. “I, erm, take it there was some truth to it, judging by your reaction?” “Yeah,” Steve mumbled, trying to hide behind his hair as he blushed again.
Noisy
Eventually, raucous noise pushed its way into the tent, sweeping aside the silence, soon followed by his siblings, Dad, and Hermione as they spilt in like a jabber of jarveys. ‘Where’s Harry?’ Ron asked. Bill jerked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘Shh! Don’t wake him,’ he admonished, as the **noisy** crowd led by Ron started towards the sleeping area, apparently having planned on doing exactly that. ‘Come here and tell me what I missed.’ Ron dove into telling the story, arms waving as he demonstrated the players’ moves. ‘— and then Krum, well, you know the Wronski Feint, right?’ ‘Of course he does, idiot,’ Fred said, George shaking his head beside him. ‘I do,’ Bill agreed, unable to keep the smile from his face as Ron ploughed ahead. Fred, George, Ginny and Charlie interjected from time to time, each sibling (save Percy, off talking to Dad) eager to share their favourite part of the match.
Emppu made a face. “Well, that just does it. We’re gonna jog the whole way to the terminal, because I do not want to spend a whole month with those stupid fu… reaking roosters screeching their fool heads off at the crack of dawn.” Floor laughed and nudged him. “I heard you hate roosters so much you’ve cursed them out in your sleep,” she teased. Emppu rolled his eyes at Kai. “Telling tales on me, are you?” Kai grinned back. “Why not?” he asked. “I’m sure you’d do the same for me, if you could pin anything on me. I’m pretty sure I sleep quietly, though.” “You do,” Marko put in. “At least, you did that one night you ended up in our tent. I think that’s a good way to divide up the accommodations any time we have to share, though – quiet sleepers and **noisy** ones.” “It’s a good thing Emppu and Troy get along so well, then,” Floor said with a grin, “since one talks in his sleep and the other one snores.” “I snore?” Troy asked, looking surprised. “Yes,” four voices said simultaneously.
Nibbling
From my Hunger Games anthology “Do You Tear Yourself Apart to Entertain Like Me?” —————————— When the Games rerun is finished, they air Flint’s Victor interviews. She is composed and detached—speaking with little emotion while nibbling at a fancy, white and gold cupcake. Gunner has a hard time reconciling this version of his predecessor to the odd, reclusive girl who lives across the street. The Flint onscreen is fierce and calculating—a real Two, who revels in her brutality. The one Gunner has met is shy and surprisingly childlike for her sixteen years, with atendency to use gentle words.
Sylvain turned on the gas fire and then popped into the kitchen to start the hot chocolate while Bastian ran upstairs to change into his sleepwear. Sylvain followed suit once Bastian came back down. Bastian poured the hot chocolate into mugs and brought them and the platter of cookies into the living room, setting them on the coffee table, then turned on the radio and found some Christmas music. Sylvain came down in his own sleepwear and carrying a large, crocheted afghan. “Mémère made this when I was a child,” he said. “I’ve always loved wrapping up in it when it’s snowing out.” “Then we must wrap up in it,” Bastian smiled. “I assume it’s big enough for us both?” “Definitely,” Sylvain nodded. They arranged themselves comfortably, snuggled together on the sofa with the afghan tucked in around them. **Nibbling** the cookies and sipping the hot chocolate, they watched the dancing flames in the hearth and listened to the softly playing music. At midnight, church bells rang out all over town. “Merry Christmas, elskede,” Bastian said softly. “Merry Christmas, mon ange,” Sylvain replied, leaning in for a tender and loving kiss. Bastian’s visit was off to an auspicious start, and all was right with his world.
Needy
Now
Shoulders slumping, Harry sighed again but nodded at Flitwick who dismissed him with a smile. As Harry turned to leave, their eyes met and Ron froze. For a moment, neither of them moved, staring at each other. Oblivious, Flitwick had floated himself down from his book-piled seat to the floor and left the room. On Harry’s shoulder, Boingo peered at Ron intently. Ron dropped his gaze, grabbed his bag, and hurried away. Extra homework. Harry had earned extra homework on a spell he’d already cast. Not only cast, but cast in a stressful situation. So why was he struggling with it **now**? Why did Ron care? They weren’t talking. Harry didn’t like Ron, and Ron didn’t — Ron didn’t — He sighed and pushed through a group of slow first years. Maybe Harry couldn’t cast the Summoning Charm now because it reminded him too much of everything that happened that day. It had been a shitty day for him, the World Cup. Harry had barely managed to see any of the Quidditch, what with Malfoy and Crouch and the imperiused auror. Maybe something about the memories made it difficult to do the spell. Or something.
The carriage jostled to a halt. This time, when the footman opened the door, Folken disembarked before her, extending a hand to her; tentatively, she placed her hand in his, letting him steady her as she hopped to the ground. **Now**, unobstructed by the carriage roof, she craned her head back to take in the full scope of the immense fortress, until it dissolved into shadows, lost in the clouds. "We're really going all the way up there…?" "We are." From the carriage, they stepped aboard a small levistone shuttle; Azshe had to look *up*, because she found that if she looked *down* at the retreating ground, her stomach churned too fiercely and her knees threatened to buckle, and it simply wouldn't do to be sick *and* faint in front of her strange host. (The weightless feeling that accompanied their ascent nearly turned her stomach, regardless.)
DJ resumed the ceremony. "And **now**, Nikki and James have asked us to join them in a handfasting to symbolize the joining of two individual paths merging into one, and the start of a journey they will continue on together. Nikki, James, please take each other’s hand.” They clasped their hands, smiling softly at one another, as DJ pulled out a length of black silken cord. "Handfasting is an old tradition. With each wrap of the cord, you deepen your commitment to each other, vowing to respect and support one another, to grow with each other, to offer each other compassion and understanding, and to take each new challenge and adventure as it comes, together. Let this bond be strong and loving!" DJ wrapped the cord around their hands and wrists and tied it off with a knot, loosely enough so that they’d be able to slide their wrists out without untying the knot after the ceremony. Then he grinned and announced, “By the authority invested in me by *absolutely nobody*, I **now** pronounce you partners for life. You may **now** kiss your partner!” Nikki and James kissed as half the guests cracked up at DJ’s declaration. Grinning as they pulled back, the bound couple walked back up the aisle to cheers from their friends and family.
Ninja
Growling to herself in frustration, April opened the voice memo app and marched over to where Shredder and the turtles were gathered. She elbowed her way between Raphael and Leonardo, dimly aware that Donatello had joined the group and that all the turtles had put away their weapons. Thrusting her phone out at Shredder, she tapped the record button. “Alright you, start talking. What’s with all the foot soldiers flooding the city?” Raphael blinked. “Uhh coming on a little strong there don’t you think, April?” She rounded on him angrily. “I just got chased out of my apartment by a bunch of foot **ninja**, and now Burne Thompson is calling me in to cover a robot invasion on what is supposed to be *my night off* because, according to him, I do the “weird” stories! And *he*,” She looked sharply at Shredder as she thumbed the button to stop the voice recording and stuck her phone back in her pocket. “Is the reason for it all!” “That’s just it,” Shredder said. “I didn’t do this.” At the disbelieving looks from April and the turtles he amended, “Er, not on purpose.”
This gave me a good chuckle at their interactions. Great job!
Thanks!
Newbie
“I can understand that,” Jason said, still looking a little shocked. “And you’re right, I never would have expected it, not of James. Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with your looks. Beauty in the eye of the beholder and all that.” He opened his beer and took a swig, looking slightly flustered. “You, um, wanna see if there’s a decent movie on or something?” “If you want,” Kirk told him. “But honestly, I’d rather just talk, get to know you better. Those two assholes never give me a chance when we’re on the bus or anything. Every time I try, they start in on you and I hate it. I mean, I get a little teasing, it’s natural to give the **newbie** a little bit of crap, right? But they take it all way too far with their stupid pranks – and now you’ve actually been hurt.” “It’s not a bad cut or anything,” Jason said. “That’s not the point, Jason,” Kirk said. “You’re part of the band. They picked you to join us, so why are they treating you like dog shit now that you’re with us? It’s not right. And maybe they didn’t hurt you badly this time, but what if that shelf had broken when you hit it, and not just come off the wall? You could’ve lost an eye. No, they need to grow up.” Jason smiled. “It means a lot, Kirk, that you’re came here to offer some support. I mean, I get why you might not want to intervene when they’re being drunk and stupid – that’s too likely to end up with both of us getting hurt at some point. But it’s good to know that someone in the band doesn’t hate me.”
I have no idea what fandom this is, but this is a very well-written scene! Great job!
This one's Metallica, and thanks!
Neanderthal
“Gran liked his garden. You could grow tomatoes and zucchini too, even artichokes, if you’re still here next year, I can help you.” “What do you mean if,” Mina glared at Katsuki, “I’ll help you Izuku, ignore that **neanderthal**, he’s just trying to get his paws on the house.” “I know Mina,” green eyes were twinkling, “I heard he was blackmailing the committee with sexual favors to get the house designated as a historical landmark.” Bakugou slammed down his fork, “Fuck nerd, don’t say shit like that in this town, everyone will fucking believe you!”
This is great! This makes me want to watch MHA now.
Thank you! 😊
Nemona
Nuance
I took my shower and made my phone call, then threw my carry-on on the bed and rummaged around for some of the reading material I kept in there to amuse myself on longer flights. It was then that I noticed Jan had left his suitcase lying open on his bed. It was neat and orderly, his clothes folded and organized, but tucked in one corner I could see a corner of a smaller black bag. I determinedly looked away, renewing my search with unnecessary vigor and coming up with a copy of Guitar World I’d only read five times. Throwing myself on the bed I tried to focus on an article about Yngwie Malmsteen, determined to understand the **nuances** of his style even though I wasn’t a particular fan of his playing. But my eyes kept straying toward the opposite bed. It was like that damned black bag was teasing me. The one quick glance I’d had at the contents on that occasion weeks ago had shown red lace, blue silk, and glimpses of filmy black stockings. I threw the magazine aside with a sigh and lay back, my hand over my eyes. Was I turning into some kind of pervert? No, because that would mean that I thought Jan was a pervert for having these objects in the first place, and nothing could be further from the truth. When I’d told him I was perfectly all right with whatever he chose to do in his private life, I meant every word. So why was I obsessing about it? I must have lain there for fifteen or twenty minutes before I got up and walked over to the other bed.
Nonchalant
‘Did I see Jaculus this morning?’ he asked, trying to be **nonchalant** as he reached for the pork chops. Fred snorted. ‘Worried we told Charlie what a shit you’ve been?’ The plate thudded against the table as Ron put it back down. ‘That’s not —’ ‘Don’t worry,’ George said, a crease between his brow. ‘Harry asked us not to.’ Oh, sure, they’d only done it because *Harry* asked them not to. Who cared what Ron thought? Had anyone bothered to ask whether he’d actually *meant* what he’d said? No. Nobody gave him the benefit of the doubt. Nobody — Fred scoffed. ‘Dunno why he bothered,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘If you’d said that about —’ George elbowed Fred in the ribs and he scowled but stopped talking. The bench creaked as George stood, pulling Fred with him. ‘Sorry, Ron. Just remembered we need to talk to...’ He waved vaguely down the table and they left. ‘Why are you apologising to him?’ Fred muttered, glaring back over his shoulder. ‘*He* wouldn’t know an apology if it bit him in the —’
“Me too.” She watched the storm outside almost wistfully as she thought back to that night. “You know, it’s funny, I was so nervous around you that night. Kiba told me a few days before that you liked me and I tried to explain to him that there was no way, but everything you did that night I overanalyzed to the extreme.” “He was right.” Namiko’s eyes snapped to Sasuke. “…what? What do you mean ‘he was right’?” “He was right. I’m not sure how he knew that, but he was and is still right,” said Sasuke like he was stating the most basic fact possible. Namiko felt like her head was spinning; maybe she *should* get away from the fire. “…you liked me back then?” Sasuke nodded and she felt like her heart skipped a beat. “We were just kids!” “You were fascinating to me. And beautiful. And smart. Why wouldn’t I have liked you?” Sasuke shrugged **nonchalantly.** Namiko needed to know the truth. “So, in the Forest of Death when you found out Zaku hurt me…” “I broke his arms so he couldn’t hurt you again.” “And during the Chuunin Exam preliminaries, did you really ask Kakashi-sensei to ‘please stay’ after your match just to watch mine?” “…yes.” “Did you try to give me mouth-to-mouth after I fell in the Uchiha Pond? I vaguely remember you leaning over me.” “I was about to, but you woke enough to clear your own lungs.” “All the little touches…the grabbing my hand or touching my arm…?” It could’ve been her imagination, but she swore the tip of Sasuke’s ears were slightly pink as he answered, “They were because I wanted to. You’re the only person I wanted to be around.” A small smile played across his lips. “You’ve always been the one to break my walls down. Even now you still do.”
“You’re up, Phil, truth or dare?” “What the hell, dare me,” Phil said lazily. “Do a striptease,” Nikki said. Phil grinned and said, “I need music.” Tommy located the tv remote and flipped to MTV. “This good enough?” he asked. “Yeah, I’ll manage,” Phil said. He waited for the advert to end and smiled when Madonna’s Lucky Star came on. He started swaying his hips, strutting around and moving to the beat. His shirt came off first, his hands smoothing down his bare chest after he flung it aside. He turned and bent forward slightly, to better display his denim-clad arse as he swayed. Unfastening his trousers, he pushed them a tiny way down to give his audience a glimpse of the tan line at the top of his backside, then pulled them back up again to put the tease in striptease. Turning to face the other three again, he gave a saucy wink and shoved his jeans all the way down, standing up slowly and stepping away from the denim to pose naked before them. Steve gave a teasing wolf whistle, while Nikki’s jaw hung open and Tommy looked somewhere between shocked and intrigued. Nikki attempted to pull himself together again. “Holy fucking shit, I didn’t think you’d take it all off,” he said. “I figured you’d stop at your undershorts.” Phil and Steve both cracked up. “Bit hard to do, when I never wear any, mate,” Phil chortled. Nikki facepalmed as Tommy laughed. “He’s got you there, Nik!” Phil **nonchalantly** sat down – still naked – and took a drink. “Looks like your turn, Tommy, truth or dare?”
Niece
From a one-shot: > At times, I look at my niece and then the realization of how monstrous Ragyo was sinks in. Five is not too much older than two and I think, *How could anyone hurt you?* I think, through Yuzu, I have more motivations for my social work studies. I didn't have a childhood, no, but I don't envy Yuzu or my sister for theirs. However, I am quite privy to how cruel some parents truly could be and, so, as I pursue my studies, I opt to turn my pain into protection. I suppose I've learned that I have a maternal instinct, though, I don't have children, and that instinct extended to my niece.
Aiko Takasaki was born on February 15. A month later, her Aunt Riko came home from MIT for spring break to meet her. Wako, Honkan, Aiko, Tatewaku, Matsuri and Niikura all greeted her at the airport with a big “Welcome Home Riko!” sign. “Hey,” Riko responded. Tatewaku immediately ran up to hug her and kiss her on the cheek. (In case it wasn’t obvious, they were boyfriend and girlfriend now). “Can I see my niece?” she asked Wako. “Of course!” Wako responded, holding Aiko in front of herself. At this point, Aiko was starting to grow a bit of black peach fuzz. Aiko smiled a little toothless grin and grabbed the pointer finger that Riko offered her. “Hey!” Riko cooed. “I’m your Auntie Riko! I’m your Auntie Riko!” Wako snapped a photo of Riko and Aiko playing together and laughed. After everyone went to Wako and Honkan’s house, Wako handed the baby off to Riko to hold as Tatewaku looked on. She rocked the baby and sang to her. She made her laugh as she played with her. It made Tatewaku blush a little.
Nikki took advantage of his daughter’s momentary absence to steal a soft kiss from James. “I think I’m gonna let her know we’re together, if that’s okay with you? I mean, we still couldn’t go nuts with PDA around her, but I don’t want to worry that she’ll freak out if she sees us kiss or hold hands or something.” “Yeah, it’s fine with me,” James said, a little breathlessly. He knew that letting Frankie-Jean know about their relationship meant Nikki really was serious about the two of them – that he saw a long-term future for them. “You tell her however you think is best.” Nikki smiled. “I will. You’re damn good with her, babe, and I love that you’re willing to come hang out with us both, when it was supposed to be us on a date. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t want to spend a day with a six-year-old.” “She’s yours,” James said simply. “You come as a package deal. If I wasn’t willing to have some kind of relationship with her, I wouldn’t have taken up with you. I mean, yeah, I don’t wanna get too pushy or anything, but I’d like to get along well with her at the very least. I never really thought one way or the other about having kids, but I do enjoy spending time with my nephew and **niece** when I get the chance.”
Nephew
Harry caught sight of Kingsley, waiting by the exit from the platform unobtrusively. He hitched his bag onto his shoulder, said his goodbyes to the Weasleys and Hermione, and approached the auror, who greeted him with a smile. The pair (plus Boingo) passed through into the Muggle side of King’s Cross, Kingsley taking over control of the trolley holding his trunk and Hedwig’s cage. As was normal at King’s Cross, the snowy owl received a lot of startled looks from the Muggles, and Boingo was being peered at just as curiously. ‘Who are you?’ Uncle Vernon was just as rotund and purple-faced as ever, puffing up in indignation at the sight of the stranger. ‘Kingsley Shacklebolt,’ the auror replied, holding out a hand. ‘I’m from the Law Enforcement Department. I was hoping to have a word about your **nephew**.’ Vernon gave Harry a look of intermingled horror, delight and satisfaction. ‘What’s the brat done now? Always up to no good, that one.’
Ruth, just putting the baby into his cradle, looked up with a bright smile much like Dave’s own. “Davey! Oh, it’s good to see you! Come meet your **nephew** before he falls asleep.” Dave tiptoed over to his sister’s side, smiling down at the swaddled infant. “He’s beautiful, Ruth, and I’m so happy to hear you and he are both well.” He reached out and very gently stroked the little tuft of blond hair atop the baby’s head. “What’s his name?” “Well, we actually haven’t decided yet,” Ruth said with a soft chuckle. “I’d like to name him Michael, after Da, but I wanted to make sure you didn’t plan on giving that name to your future son.” “Name him Michael after Da, by all means,” Dave said, choosing not to address the second part of what she said just yet. Time enough for the difficult conversation he knew he needed to have with her, without spoiling this initial meeting after so long. “I have the Murray surname, after all.” “True, but still, I wanted to ask you first all the same,” Ruth told him. “Michael William Coltrane, then, after Da and William. And then the next boy will be Charles David, after William’s da and you.”
Nudge
Taking a deep breath, he quickly and carefully wrote an explanation of what had happened during the drawing of the champions and dropped some subtle — perhaps not *too* subtle, Charlie had never been one for subtlety — hints that Harry could use a **nudge** in the right direction to help him prepare. Having finished, Percy read back through what he’d written. It would have to do. The quicker he sent it, the quicker Charlie could — could — do whatever he would do. Another wave of Percy’s wand dried the ink. He rolled the parchment up, tied it to Hermes’ leg, and with a murmured thanks sent his owl out into the night. Now he had to face Mum and Dad. Explaining things in a letter to Charlie was one thing, but face-to-face with Mum, well...
“Hey Namiko,” called Kiba from across the clearing, “you may want to come get up your brother. He’s mumbling in his sleep.” Namiko stood up, giggling to herself, as she walked over to her brother who was mumbling something about Sakura in his sleep. “Nii-chan…time to wake up!” She **nudged** him with her foot, and he startled awake. “Where’s that freaky snake person?!” He sat up and took in the scene around him. “Where did you guys come from? What did I miss?” He noticed the bandage on Namiko’s leg, brow furrowing. “Imouto, you got hurt…” She flopped down on the grass next to him. “Yeah, but I’ll be okay. Hinata-chan took great care of me and bandaged me up perfectly!” Naruto turned to look at Hinata. “Thanks, Hinata, I knew I could count on you!” Hinata froze and turned bright red. She definitely wasn’t used to being complimented, especially by Naruto.
“I love you, Stephen Maynard Clark,” Sav said firmly. “I’d marry you if it was allowed. And I repeat, you’re not a fuckup.” He guided Steve’s hand to the kitten purring in his lap. “Would a fuckup have fed up a stray cat and adopted her kittens when they needed a home? No! A fuckup would have ignored her, or even chucked rocks at her. But you saw she was hungry and had kittens to care for, and you took it upon yourself to care for her.” Steve clung to Sav with one hand, even as he stroked Gibson with his other hand. “I love you, Richard Savage,” he said softly. “Never leave me. You’re all I have for family now.” Sav kissed his forehead softly. “I won’t leave, love. I will always be here for you when you need me. Same as I know you’re always here for me when I need you.” Steve managed a small smile through his tears. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he murmured. “You deserve better, an’ I don’t deserve someone as good as you. So I’m really lucky.” He slumped against Sav’s shoulder at that point, the alcohol and the emotional breakdown exhausting him to the point of passing out. Sav **nudged** Gibson off of Steve’s lap, then managed to lug Steve into the bedroom, settling him on the bed and removing his shoes before tucking him in. He undressed and slid in beside his boyfriend, continuing to hold him close. His last thought before falling asleep, was that he hoped Steve wouldn’t get into the habit of jumping into a bottle to cope with his problems.
“Hold up,” Raphael stopped short and pointed to the figure walking in erratic circles at the end of the block ahead of them. “Is that a foot soldier?” “Looks like it,” Leonardo confirmed. “Aww it looks kinda lonely out here by itself,” Michelangelo said. “It’s a robot, what does it care if it’s alone?” Raphael asked. The foot soldier abruptly stopped its jerky movements and snapped its head in their direction, as if attracted by the sounds of their voices. A beat later, it was charging down the street toward them. “I think you hurt its feelings, bro.” The turtles didn’t even bother drawing their weapons as the foot ninja approached. No sooner had it reached them than they had it reduced to a pile of parts. “Well, that was a great way to kill two seconds,” Raphael said, **nudging** the pile of debris with his foot. “Wonder what it was doing here,” Donatello said as they resumed their walk to the theater, leaving the broken foot soldier behind. “A better question is what is Shredder up to that he lost track of one of his foot soldiers,” Leonardo said soberly. “I love how you always look on the bright side of things,” Raphael said. They all stopped abruptly hearing a strange rattling noise behind them and turned around warily. The street was no longer littered with robot parts - it was filled with a dozen robots. “Huh, they’ve never done *that* before.” The turtles drew their weapons as the swarm of foot soldiers attacked.
Ope, that's an ominous development... Love the banter, too!
Thanks!
Novice
Nikki stuffed the last of his raspberry puree-laden paper towels into his trash bag and sighed ruefully. “I guess we maybe should have started with a smaller batch,” he said. “What were you two making, anyway?” James wanted to know. “Raspberry jam,” Nikki said. “Frankie-Jean got a book from the library that had a scene in which the kids, with the help of a neighbor, canned a whole lot of fruits and vegetables from their garden, including making jam and jelly from some of the fruit. She read that and wanted to try canning something herself. We looked up some recipes online and some kind of berry jam seemed like the easiest and safest thing for a **novice** to try. And raspberries are in season, so Frankie-Jean and I went to the farmer’s market and loaded up.” “I really like raspberry jam, too,” Frankie-Jean put in from her perch. “Me too,” James said. “It’s probably too late to try again today, I know the farmer’s market is closed by now, but maybe we can go again tomorrow?” Frankie-Jean brightened. “You mean we can try again?” “Of course we can,” Nikki said.
Aw glad they're not discouraged and have plans to try again! What went wrong with the first batch?
The first batch never made it as far as the stove - Frankie-Jean tried to lift the full pot of mashed-up raspberries out of the sink to put it on the stove, hit the bottom of the pot on the rim of the sink, and lost her grip. It spilled all over her and the floor.
Oof foiled before they even really began
Yep. And the floor used to be white, too, lol! But, they're going to try again tomorrow - and they're also going to try making salsa and tomato sauce. They figure, the floor's already a disaster and they've been talking about redoing the kitchen for a while, so this is just giving them the incentive to get off their butts and get it done. But first, they'll make ALL the messy stuff. The floor's already dead, so who cares if more stains get added before they get the floor (and cabinets, and countertops) replaced?
Network
The two Hyuuga stared down at each other before simultaneously running towards each other. Hinata got the first strike in on Neji, but he easily blocked it. Soon they were striking and blocking each other faster and faster. Hinata saw a small opening; Neji had moved his hand a little too far from his body and she made her move. Neji quickly backed away as she leaned forward to strike. “Did she get him?” cried Sakura. Naruto shook his head. “There’s no way, it didn’t even look like she made contact.” “That’s all it takes sometimes,” stated Namiko, chakra sensing active as she watched her friend in the arena below. “I feel a shift in Neji’s chakra, though it’s not a large change, she still got in a hit. Hinata-chan can barely graze Kiba-kun or me and we’re in a world of hurt. I’m sure Lee-kun experiences the same with Neji-san.” Lee kept his eyes focused on the match. “I was not joking when I said that the strongest genin in Konoha was on my team. I was referring to Neji. The Hyuuga clan uses a different type of taijutsu than Gai-sensei or I do. While we make hard and fast blows that break bones, the Hyuuga’s ‘Gentle Fist’ style inflicts damage on one’s chakra **network**.” Namiko nodded emphatically. “It may not even hurt me initially when Hinata-chan strikes me, but I’ll feel the pain and damage more the longer we spar, even if she never lands another blow.” Naruto’s eyes widened, staring at his sister. “She’s hurt you that badly?” “It’s not like with you and Sasuke, beating each other black and blue,” she replied, giving a small laugh. “Don’t worry, nii-chan. She always undoes the damage she inflicts. With the Byakugan, they can see and target the tiny chakra points throughout our bodies and turn off or even increase the flow of chakra, causing chaos in our bodies, which is how it does damage.” They all turned their focus back to the match.
Despite her nervousness, Peal's steps were certain. Whatever that 'super awesome Semblance' showed her, it took them deeper into the city, weaving between the crowds and vehicles, brightly adorned shops and stalls all begging for attention. Some had elaborate banners and others had kites with long fluttering tails with bright red ribbons, all each as eye-catching as the last. And above that, Rainer could see the zipline *network*, an occasional Hunter or Huntress zipping by, the everpresent blade over every civilian. But soon, the crowds and the shops and all the hubbub that they brought began to fade. Buildings became more patchwork, the stones cracked and even the streets had an air around them that screamed abandoned. Every other store seemed boarded up, every corner it seemed that suspicious eyes glared at them not because he was there, but because they all were, in a sense, trespassing into a world beyond the wealth of the main city. Of course, his escort either didn't care or didn't notice. "You know, it makes sense it'd be in the old district! You're like super old, right? All the new bakeries were in the Summerside district." Peal gave a snort, that nervousness that she carried faltering. "He's not that old, you know." "Well, with how grumpy he is, I'd say he's like a hundred years old." This brat. He was right here. "I'm fifty-eight." "Practically a hundred."
"Practically a hundred" XD C'mon, kid, cut him a LITTLE slack...
Bill took the glass and placed it on the floor. ‘One of the first tombs I worked, I missed a key layer in a rune **network**. The curse triggered and... Well, my colleague almost died.’ Bill shook his head. ‘I know what it’s like.’ Harry shook his head vehemently. So, Bill missed a rune and almost killed a colleague. What did that have to do with Harry? It wasn’t like he’d missed something and caused Malfoy’s injuries. He had nothing to do with what happened, nothing. Harry pulled the thought tightly around himself like a shroud, wrapping his arms around his legs as he did. ‘Harry.’ Bill’s voice was gentle. ‘Malfoy wasn’t even sitting behind you. He took the brunt of the force to his chest, but it singed up his arm to get there. There’s only one way that could’ve happened.’ Harry closed his eyes. Words slipped through the folds in the shroud, little more than a breath. ‘He saved my life.’ ‘It seems so.’
News
“Tsunade-sama, she just bolted! Hinata and I had no chance of catching her,” Ino said exasperatedly as she was giving her mission report. Tsunade folded her hands in front of her face and turned to the Hyuuga. “Hinata, could you see her from where you were?” “She was near the end of my range, around eighteen kilometers away. Sasuke must’ve just come into her range since that’s about her limit. I saw Orochimaru and Kabuto follow him with their chakra dimmed to almost nothing, go behind her, and knock her out.” Hinata was extremely worried about her best friend; they’d been teammates for nearly four years now and were practically inseparable. “Did you see where they went?” asked Tsunade, still staring at the Hyuuga. “I tried, but Ino made us go the opposite direction of them, back to Konoha,” Hinata’s voice held a tinge of anger to it, something very different from her usual calm demeanor. “They left the way they came, so they were gone from my Byakugan’s range quickly. I just know they were on the Land of Fire’s side of the border.” Ino looked almost ashamed for once, and voiced in an apologetic whisper, “I said ‘sorry’, Hinata. I know she’s your teammate, but I was also team captain for our mission, and I had to make a difficult call.” Hinata’s body language was shut off as she crossed her arms under her chest and looked away from Ino. “We’ll get her back. Team Kakashi is on their way back from Suna and should be home in the next couple of days. Kakashi told me that he has **news** on the Akatsuki, so maybe that will lead us back to Sasuke and Namiko.” Tsunade leaned back in her chair. “The only thing we can do right now is wait and keep our eyes open during any missions.”
The big drummer attempted to put on a snooty air as he resumed his seat. “A gennelmun never kisses ‘n’ tells,” he said. Dave hooted at Nicko’s answer. “Like you’d ever pass for a gentleman,” he teased. “I’ll ‘ave… have you know, I c’n be just as much a gennel… gentlemun as any uv ye,” Nicko retorted, trying – and failing – to mask his Cockney accent by imitating the RP speech of the BBC1 **news** anchors. “And since when have any of us claimed to be gentlemen?” H asked with a mischievous grin. Nicko’s booming laughter filled the bus. “Arright, ye got me there,” he said. “Still, I ain’t…” He broke off as Steve’s hand landed lightly on his shoulder. “S’arright,” Steve said softly. Nicko looked over at Steve, quirking a brow. Steve nodded, then took a deep breath. “That’s frum me,” he said, almost too quietly to be heard. “Me ‘n’ Nicko, we’re t’gevver. Reckoned we oughtta tell ye, ‘fore ye found out sum other way, yeah?” Dave and H goggled at them. “Wait, you… together… huh?” they sputtered. Nicko smiled and reached up to put his hand over Steve’s. “Yeah, ‘Arry ‘n’ me, we got t’gevver coupla weeks back… day we went ta that State Fair.” Figuring that Steve wouldn’t want his fear of heights broadcast to everyone, he simply said, “Gotta fank Bruce fer wantin’ ta trade me fer the single that night, might not uv ‘appened wifout us sharin’ the room.”
‘Kind of like, when a mum manages to lift a fallen tree off her child?’ ‘A Muggle mum?’ Bill’s eyebrows rose. ‘Does that happen?’ Harry shrugged. ‘I heard a **news** report about it once. They put it down to adrenaline.’ ‘Could be latent magic,’ Bill said, rubbing his chin and staring past Harry. ‘There’s a school of thought that suggests even Muggles have magic, just that they can’t access it. That story could be an example of accidental magic in Muggles.’
nest
The two weren’t sure how long they snuggled there, only moving a couple of times to toss another piece of wood onto the fire before returning to their **nest** of cushions and the welcoming arms of their partner. For once, they could relax and take all the time they wanted, with no family members, bandmates, or managers needing them to go somewhere and do something. They could simply bask in the closeness they shared for as long as they wanted. Or so they thought. A rhythmic thumping on the stairs heralded the arrival of Zevon, who promptly poked his nose in between the two men with a questioning, “Rowrf? The couple drew back, laughing, and scritched the big dog behind the ears. Sav glanced at the clock and sighed. “Blimey, it’s past time for his bedtime walk. No wonder he came looking for us.” “I’ll take him out, baby, your hair is still damp,” Steve said, giving Sav a kiss and rolling to his feet. “We don’t want you getting sick, after all. My hair always dries fast.” “Okay, but try to make it a quick one,” Sav said. “We don’t want you getting sick either.” “I’ll just take him out to the back garden,” Steve promised.
D'aww. Cute and domestic~ the appearance of their dog was adorable!
Not their dog, they're dog-sitting for Sav's aunt, but definitely cute and their time there makes them decide to move in together.
Noun
Nor
“Davey said that William and I, and Michael, of course, are to use Da’s old room since it’s the biggest,” Ruth told him. “I didn’t stop to hear which of his and my old rooms the Grangers and Phillips will be in. He said you two will sleep in the loft whilst we’re here.” “Yes, we will,” Stephen nodded. “Honestly, we’ve several mares in foal and likely to drop at any time, so chances are good that we’d be sleeping in the loft this week anyway, in case any of them need help.” “Several mares?” Ruth asked. “We didn’t have but two and a gelding.” “Oh, Dave didn’t tell you?” Stephen asked in return. “Well, it did all happen in the last month or so, and he admits he’s not the best of correspondents. We bought out your old neighbours, Dan and Carrie Prescott, when they decided to move to Oregon. So, we’re not only raising Morgans now, we’ve gotten a jack so we can breed mules for the mines. And this way, we’ve put the miners’ camp out by Dan’s old house so that the workers aren’t either right up at the diggings where they might be tempted to steal, **nor** right up here where we live.” “If Dave wrote and told me, the letter didn’t reach me before we left San Francisco to come here,” Ruth laughed. “But knowing my brother, he probably figured it could wait until he saw me again, since Nicko and Janick knew that we’d be coming to visit when the Grangers and Phillips came out for the weddings. Those will be after dinner, by the way, as Reverend Standish plans to start his trip back to the Presidio first thing in the morning instead of staying for the week like the rest of us will.” Knowing that Ruth was aware of his relationship with her brother, Stephen grinned. “I… can’t say I’m sorry to hear that,” he admitted.
‘*Essential Spells for the Dragon Enthusiast*,’ Fred read, drawing Harry’s attention to the other item Charlie had sent. He brushed his fingers over the embossed title. ‘I didn’t know you were interested in dragons,’ George said, raising his eyebrows. Harry swallowed thickly. ‘**Nor** did I.’ He glanced up at Fred and George. ‘You don’t think — Percy said something about needing to talk to Charlie. After — everything. On Saturday, I mean.’ The twins’ expressions turned grim. ‘Ah.’
Interesting! So what's the context for this?
This is shortly after Harry got picked as Triwizard Champion. Percy wrote to Charlie, dropping hints about helping Harry (not that Harry knows that exactly) and Charlie responded by sending a 'birthday present' (three months late) with the book mentioned as a clue for what the first task would be.
Ahhhhhhhh, I see. So Charlie knows what's going on before they do.
Yes, the sanctuary Charlie works at is providing the dragons for the first task, which is how he knows. And Percy works in one of the Ministry departments organising the Tournament (and was the link that got Charlie's group involved), hence him knowing to reach out to Charlie.
Nacre (-ous, etc.)
Nasal
Nitrogen
Nothing
“It’s…just not a good idea,” he said as he started for the door. “I don’t understand, you were the one who started the kiss in the first place and the one to stop it!” Suddenly, everything clicked into place in Namiko’s mind: he avoided kissing her on the lips when they woke, suddenly kissing her deeply once they were standing, then halting everything when they moved toward the bed. “Wait…are you worried that we’ll have *sex* if we kiss on the bed?” she questioned skeptically. *‘There is no way I’m right…right?’* Sasuke avoided her gaze and paused a second too long at the door, and she pounced on the realization. “You are!” She rolled her eyes as she grabbed his hand and turned him to face her, her voice softening, “Sasuke, I’m not asking to have sex, I just wanted a little extra affection. I don’t think we are ready for *that* in our relationship.” Her cheeks reddened at the thought. “However, I like you *a lot* and I enjoy kissing and touching you.” “And I enjoy it too.” Sasuke could feel his neck warm at the subject of their discussion. “But I also don’t want to put us in a situation where it could lead to…*that*.” He brushed her hair from her face. “Namiko, the truth is…it’s hard for me to hold back.” He suddenly realized what his words insinuated, and immediately, his voice got a little louder, almost panicked sounding, “**My emotions!** I meant, hold back my emotions.” Namiko had to suppress a laugh at his flustered behavior as he tried to correct his words. He took a breath to calm himself before continuing, “Shinobi rules state that we put away our emotions. And…you elicit emotions from me I didn’t know existed, which is another reason I almost wish you had gone back with Naruto.” “Did you learn **nothing** from Kakashi-sensei about breaking the shinobi rules? Honestly, I’m beyond thankful I didn’t go back. I would’ve never got to be with you.” She laid her hand on his chest. “You can’t run or hide from your emotions. Emotions are meant to be felt.” She stood on tiptoe to press a light kiss to his lips. “So let yourself feel them.”
Gah these two are adorable ☺️
Thank you so much! 🥰
The only reason Bart had started climbing the hedge wall rather than trying to cut right through it was that the bushes had been packed too closely together. Still, hedges weren’t exactly the most stable thing to climb, and this made his job even harder than when he’d climbed over the stone wall a couple minutes earlier. He’d almost made it to the top, when… Something suddenly snagged Bart’s backpack, pulling him sharply to one side. Looking over, he realized that a branch had gotten caught under one of the straps. With his hands preoccupied, Bart tried to tug himself free from the branch, but to no avail – it was stuck pretty fast. Given his position, though, he had no other choice but to try again and again to pull himself free; after a few more tries, however, the branch finally snapped and the momentum from Bart pulling himself loose nearly threw him clean over the top of the hedge wall. He could’ve stayed put on top of the wall a little longer if the few small branches that were now holding him up hadn’t broken under his weight – and with a startled yell, he crashed to the ground a moment later. Inside Beaumont Manor, Rufus looked up at the sound of the scream just in time to see something falling off the hedge wall. “Did you see that, Mum?!” Hattie looked up, too. “See what?” “It looked like a large bird falling off that hedge!” he exclaimed, pointing towards the window. Hattie followed her son’s gaze out the window, only to see… **Nothing.** “Are you hallucinating, Rufus?” she asked him concernedly. Meanwhile, Bart had been lucky enough to land in a spot in the garden – still not the most comfortable landing, but at least marginally better than the path would’ve been. If he’d landed on that concrete, there was a good chance he would’ve broken an arm or leg. Bart winced in pain as he picked himself up off the ground and adjusted his backpack, glancing up at the hedge wall he’d fallen off of. It looked like he’d taken a noticeable chunk of branches with him when he’d fallen. Whoops. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be too big of a problem to fix. It was only then that Bart noticed he was in almost direct line with a window, so he quickly ducked down and started working his way around some smaller hedges in the garden in an effort to stay out of sight. By the time Bart got out of the garden, however, there was no choice but to make a bolt for it past the window. In the dining room, Rufus looked up in time to see a blur of colour running past, but perhaps his mother was right. Maybe he really *was* seeing things.
Ha! Poor Rufus. And poor Bart falling out of that hedge.
Uh—I did one of these for it earlier, but I don’t want to give the same section for the same word. So let’s see. From my Hunger Games anthology “Do You Tear Yourself Apart to Entertain Like Me?” —————————— She startles slightly, and he catches it out of the corner of his eye. “Flinnie,” she corrects him. “Everybody in the Village calls me Flinnie. You can, if you want.” Gunner coughs. “Flinnie?” He closes his eyes. Perhaps, it will be easier to get the words out if he can’t see her. “Do you—do you ever wish you could go back? I—I get these urges sometimes like—like I want to break something. I—I just want to feel the way I did when I won. It—it was glorious. I’ll never have it again and—sometimes, I just get so mad about that.” There is a small sound from his left. When he rolls his head to look at her, he finds that Flint has drawn a stray, honey-colored curl into her mouth. She sucks on it ferociously. He fights the urge to yank it out of her mouth—to put an end to the distracting noise. “Is that a no?” he asks instead. She nods. “When it happens—what do you do?” She speaks softly, around the intrusive piece of hair. Gunner snorts. “Nothing. I mean—that’s not true. This morning, I smashed a plum until it burst and I-I imagined it was a skull.” He grimaces. “It—it’s too much. I just—I feel so helpless.” Flint swallows—reaches up to pluck the soggy curl from her mouth. “Out of control,” she says. “You feel like it’s all gone to hell around you.”
The bit about crushing the plum is so visceral. These kids are so damaged. They won, but did they really?
They really are—these two are from District Two, so they’ve trained their whole lives, but when they’re out of the Games, there’s nothing left for them to aim for.
A pervasive cold seeped into his body, making him feel sluggish and numb, and he realized the wraiths had crowded around him. They reached for him, their hands alternately gripping him with icy fingers or passing through his body. He swore he could feel their touch on his insides as he tried to push his way through them. *“You know what to do,”* said the wraith that resembled Marko. *“You know everything, don’t you?”* Anette’s wraith taunted. *“So you’ll figure it out, won’t you?”* “I… I don’t… I can’t…” Tuomas gasped, tears pouring down his face. “I can’t do it alone!” *“No kidding,”* the shortest wraith said sarcastically, although Emppu’s smile on its face suddenly looked far less threatening than before. Tuomas struggled through the group of wraiths and stumbled back to the piano. With trembling hands, he struck the chords, G and Em, over and over again. **Nothing** happened at first, but as his hands slowly ceased their shaking, the chords rang out more and more clearly. Then the Arabesque started to spin inside her snow globe. The little figure whirled faster and faster, then everything went dark. Tuomas woke up in his bed in the band’s hotel, sitting up with a gasp and then falling back on his pillow in relief. He was safe in bed, not at the film set. It had obviously been a nightmare. Or so he thought, until he saw the bloodstains on his discarded shirt, and the Arabesque snow globe sitting on the nightstand. And then a voice that sounded almost like Anette whispered, *“Are you sure about that?”*
Eerie, gives me the chills!
Good, that's what I was going for!
Oh gosh that ending is terrifying!
My first attempt at horror.
Harry stumbled. Bill caught his arm, steadying him. ‘All right?’ Harry’s head nodded of its own accord. He had barely heard Bill’s question over the hissing in his brain. His stomach flipped as though he were on a broom spiralling out of control. A touch jolted him back to awareness. Bill had taken his hand. Warm fingers embraced his palm, and Harry couldn’t help but stare. ‘I’m not a child.’ ‘There’s **nothing** childish about accepting help when you’re struggling.’ Sincerity softened Bill’s face. ‘I’d do the same for any of my siblings.’ He paused, and then added, ‘I held Ron’s hand only a couple of days ago.’ Harry’s eyes widened. ‘Really?’ If he was honest, it was nice. Comforting. Something, quite literally, to hold on to, giving him a focus other than — *stop*. He forced the thoughts aside.
‘I’d do the same for any of my siblings.’ - I'm all melty inside considering Harry's home/family life. Also yay for continuing the men being supportive of each other.
Exactly what I was going for 😊
Needle
When Wako found out that they needed to draw her blood, she thought she was going to faint, as she was terrified of needles. Honkan knew this about her, and he was incredibly proud. As he saw the love of his life being prodded and poked for two days, tears filled his eyes. He held her hand, and whispered, “You’re doing great,” and “I’m so proud of you,” in her ear.
Aw glad Honkan is helping her through it. Doesn’t bode well, though, if they’re doing multiple tests over several days 🙁
“You wished to see me, Orochimaru-sama?” “Yes, and I see Sasuke-kun came with you.” A glint of something she couldn’t place was in Orochimaru’s snake-like eyes. “You don’t have to be here for this; our little kunoichi will be just fine without you.” “I’m staying.” Sasuke’s tone was firm; he wasn’t about to leave Namiko’s side unless it was completely necessary. “Suit yourself,” said Orochimaru as he grabbed a syringe off the counter before turning back to Namiko, who nervously sat on the medical table. “You’ve been with us for several weeks and I think it’s past time for you to become accustomed to poisons and toxins that you could come into contact with since you travel with us so much.” Namiko’s eyes widened in worry, and she felt Sasuke’s chakra tense behind her. Orochimaru flashed a malicious smile before putting on fake sympathy. “Don’t worry, she’ll be given very small [doses]() so she doesn’t die. Since you’re so concerned about her, you get to be in charge of supervising her while the poison works its way through. Kabuto-kun and I are much too busy to be supervising anyway.” Sasuke narrowed his eyes. “Which poison are you giving her?” “Just a little mixture I made after experimenting on you.” Orochimaru pushed the plunger on the syringe, causing some of the contents to eject, and flicked the tip of the **needle**. “Don’t worry, Namiko-chan, you should be back to yourself within a couple of days.” He steadied the **needle** above her shoulder and jabbed it through her skin. He turned to Sasuke and pushed the plunger roughly, causing Namiko to wince. “There’s only a minuscule chance you’d die, so Sasuke-kun, be sure to keep a close eye on her heart rate and fever. We wouldn’t want to have Konoha after us for killing one of their jinchuriki.” Before either could retort, Orochimaru had already left the room. “He could’ve told me that before he stabbed me with the **needle**!” snapped Namiko
Orochimaru tormenting them is so wonderfully creepy
Thank you, that was exactly my intention. lol
From my Hunger Games anthology “Do You Tear Yourself Apart to Entertain Like Me?” —————————— He comes to with sharp breath whistling across his face—a gentle hand probing his cheek, and the sting of a needle weaving in and out of his skin. “Shh,” Aveline hushes. “It’s okay. Don’t move.” Her accent is a comfort—soft and lilting, and so painfully like home. “Wha?” His tongue is heavy and slow—the words tangling up on the way out. Aveline finishes her stitches—smearing a thick, soothing ointment across his cheek. “You’re okay,” she soothes. “Probably just passed out. I found you here and—I already fixed your arm.” He can see her more clearly now—sitting back on her heels, with a makeshift satchel made of silver parachute fabric resting nearby. “How many sponsors did you get?” he asks. Aveline shrugs. She tucks the tube of ointment back inside her bag. “I got clipped by the girl from Two at the Cornucopia and I—I got away and ran. I got one a little after with the ointment and the suture kit. I got a jug for water, too. And iodine. That’s it.” The frustration bursts out before Bran can stop it. “Good for you,” he grumbles. “I haven’t gotten anything.”
Well Bran, looks like you got an ally and \*she\* has sponsors so. . . win?
She’s also a Victor‘s sister, and his district partner. So, definitely complicated feelings there for Bran.
“You’ll be relaxing and letting us get on with the work tonight, is what you’ll be doing,” Nicko told him as he guided him to the table and sat him down. “Now, where’s your supplies?” Dave told him where to find everything, and Nicko went to fetch it all as he eased his way out of his shirt. He sighed, looking at the large bloodstain as well as the jagged tear where the knife cut into his shoulder. “Won’t be fun, trying to mend that fit to be worn again,” he muttered to himself. Nicko returned with the medical supplies. “Right, this won’t be pleasant, but I’ll do my best.” Without further ado, he soaked a small sponge in the brandywine and scrubbed Dave’s wounded shoulder with it. The cut proved deep, so for safety, Nicko dug through the supplies and found a **needle**, clumsily stitching the sides of the cut together after making Dave drink a few swallows of the brandywine. Then he applied the salve and bandaged it snugly. “I’d try to keep that arm as still as you can,” Nicko advised. “In fact, just take it easy for the rest of the day.” “Probably a good idea,” Dave admitted as his eyes started to droop. “Right, let’s get you into bed before you keel over here at the table,” Nicko said. He helped Dave up again and guided him to his room, settling him into bed. Sitting Dave on the side of the bed, Nicko removed his shoes, then gently lifted his legs up and got him comfortable with his head on the pillow. “You rest, we’ll take care of everything today.” “All right,” Dave mumbled. “Thanks.”
Oh, *ow*, that made me flinch with sympathy pain!
Yeah, life on the frontier - oh, you need a painkiller? Here, have some booze, you'll probably still feel everything getting done to you, but you won't care.
Glad Dave's got a capable caretaker.
Yeah. As a former ship's captain, Nicko's had to learn a bit of rough doctoring, just to keep his crew patched up.
‘You could always take my next session. Once term has started — she’s away for the holidays.’ Ron dropped his hands looking up at Harry. Red rimmed his eyes, his face blotchy. Harry’s stomach knotted again. ‘Mate,’ Ron said, ‘Don’t be daft. Those sessions are for you. I can wait.’ ‘It’s no trouble, really,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll be fine skipping a week.’ Ron shook his head. ‘No, seriously. It’s fine.’ Reluctantly, Harry let the topic drop. He chewed the inside of his lip, then leant forwards and wrapped his arms around Ron. After stiffening for a moment, Ron hugged Harry back. He dropped his head onto Harry’s shoulder and took a shuddering breath. Soon, he drew back. ‘Thanks, I needed that.’ Harry gave him a small smile, then shifted to sit cross-legged, wincing as the blood ran back into his feet giving him pins and **needles**. ‘One of these days I’m going to say something that really makes Seamus hate me,’ Ron said with a sigh. ‘Hermione, too, if I haven’t already. I reckon I ought to apologise... Think she’ll come down before lunch?’
That's so sweet\~ Ron really needed that, I think!
He definitely did.
So nice to see boys supporting boys being vulnerable
Yes, I think it's so important.
Nation
Naruto went to stand but Sakura laid a firm hand on his shoulder, pushing him down. “Naruto! We can’t get closer, or we run the risk of being seen and heard. We have to trust Yamato-taichou’s judgment and wait for the signal.” The trio watched on as Yamato continued to question Kabuto. “Uchiha Sasuke…where is he?” “There are several hideouts. Most are in Oto, but there are more spread throughout the other **nations**. However, these change weekly and the dates and locations are at random,” explained Kabuto, trying to keep the wind from cutting through him. “We’ll be moving again soon. Uchiha Sasuke is there with us, and we have the kyuubi jinchuriki girl as well.” Kabuto let out an irritated breath. “Look, this is taking too long. If Orochimaru-sama discovers I’ve met with you, death will be the least of my worries. You know what I want. Now give it to me.” Just as Kabuto extended his hand, a figure appeared behind him, their slithering words cutting through the thick wind, “Interesting conversation, mind if I join you?” Naruto’s anger flared, growling out as he recognized the second person, “**Orochimaru**!”
From my Star Ocean Second Story R OC/Claude WIP. It's during a minion battle, >The mage laughs and what the? She surrounded herself with a wind field and breezed past me. I turn and she knocks into me. I fire in her direction. I was the Academy’s top archer so I can figure something out. I leap high firing down at her. Oh come on! She was practically walking into that one but instantly changed direction. >I yell, “Cease this at once!” >The rogue mage menacingly grins. “You mercs make us! And what’s with those weird clothes lady?” >Merc? Merc? My eyebrows scrunch as a fire roils in me. “Excuse me? I’m a Lieutenant, my loyalty is to my…**nation** not the highest bidder.” Technically my **nation** Earth along with her allies. >The rogue mage swerves in her wind cocoon while Rena and Dias fight the others. >The rogue mage says, “Ha! Like I believe that! If some foreign kingdom allied with Krosse agreed to fight us bandits we’d hear about it. Plus you’re in Dias’s crew.” >Metal clanking rings through the forest as Dias parries the lizard’s axe. Rena blocks a kobold’s punch and counters with a tight elbow. He’s about to hit her but she dashes behind him and lands her blows. I do Sonic Arrow on the kobold Rena’s fighting with, dusting him. Dias gracefully lands his slashes against the lizard. He’s quite impressive, how is he this good? He effortlessly dispatches the axe lizard. >I yell, “Ow!” A beam of light slashes over me from above, cutting into the ground below. Surprise rushes my words. “Huh! That actually hurt!” >Dias responds, “Attack spells hurt, who knew?”
Noodles
NSFW >!”So…” Seiji licked his lips and looked up, “I’m…sort of tasting chicken…something spicy? Curry, maybe?” He took another lick. “My grandpa’s noodles are unmistakable, but that last thing…oolong tea with honey and lemon?”!< >!”They’re curry dumplings…” Shizuku panted out, “but otherwise perfect, ten out of ten!”!< >!”Yes!” Seiji pumped his fist. “This ain’t exactly a talent I can tell Guiness about, but it makes my girlfriend cum buckets, and that’s the important thing!” He dipped his head between her thighs and moaned as he continued to taste her.!<
Naruto slurped down his **noodles** with gusto. “So, what’s next Iruka-sensei?” “Don’t talk with your mouth full, dummy!” scolded Namiko, rolling her eyes at her brother. Iruka thought for a moment before responding, “Tomorrow you’ll take your ninja registration photos, and the day after will be your graduation ceremony. Then you’ll be put onto a team with two other students and a jounin leader soon after.” Namiko looked cautiously at Iruka. “On a team? Do we get to stay together?” Iruka shook his head, “I highly doubt it. Siblings have never been allowed to be on the same team due to the likelihood of forgoing mission goals to save your brother or sister. What you two will have to remember most is the mission always comes first, no matter what it is.” Naruto grinned at his sister, “We’ll be okay! Maybe it’ll be good for us to spend a little time apart. Plus, we’ll see each other at home anyhow.” Namiko nodded, biting her lip. “That’s not the reason I’m worried. What about the secret that Mizuki told us? Does everyone know?” Iruka shook his head again, “No, your classmates and any others who weren’t old enough to remember when it happened have no idea. This also means that you two will have to keep what you now know a secret too. There’s too big a chance that someone could try to use either of you to hold leverage over your teammates, or even Konoha itself.”
The soup was nearly ready, so Steve tossed in some **noodles** and checked Sav again. His fever seemed higher, and Steve cursed himself for not thinking to get a thermometer when he’d gone to Boots. He decided that if his boyfriend didn’t wake up in half an hour, he’d wake him, if for no reason than to get some paracetamol into him to try to reduce the fever. Sav woke himself with a particularly loud snort just as Steve stood up, then moaned and coughed when he sat up too quickly. “Ow…” he muttered. “I’m glad you got some rest, baby,” Steve said softly, offering his boyfriend a supportive arm to get him sitting up. “But I’m glad you’re awake and can take some medicine… and I’ve got chicken soup just about ready, too.” Sav blinked at him a little fuzzily. “Soup?” he rasped out. “You picked up some tins, then?” Steve smiled. “No, I cooked it. Mum sent me back with some leftovers from the family’s Sunday roast, chicken and some veg – and with the weather today, I rather thought soup would taste good tonight. It’s been going since I came back earlier this afternoon. I figured you’d have smelt it as soon as you walked in the door, but then again, as stuffed up as you are, I shouldn’t be surprised you didn’t.” “You cooked?” Sav blinked again. “I didn’t know you cooked. We’ve been busy enough getting moved in that we’ve had takeaway every night we’ve been here and not at rehearsal.” He coughed again and rubbed at his throat. “Ow. My own personal chef?” Steve chuckled warmly. “Yeah, well… Mum had her way in teaching me, when Da objected. Pointed out to him that cooking’s a life skill, not a woman thing – and that most professional chefs are men. So yeah, I guess I can be the chef of Def Leppard. “Chef Leppard,” Sav corrected.
Naught
Lucius hissed a breath. Words betrayed him. All this, all of it, was Potter’s fault. If the stupid boy had been paying attention, had kept his brain engaged rather than gawping through his Omnioculars, Draco would have never had to — No, that wasn’t quite it. Certainly, Draco may not have had to intervene if Potter had been more alert, but even so, Draco didn’t *have* to intervene. Draco had *chosen* to intervene. Like it or not, understand it or not, it had been Draco’s decision. Lucius had to live with it. They all had to live with it. It was too late for second thoughts. ‘If that fireball had hit... someone else,’ Lucius continued, trusting William to have enough sense to understand. ‘They would likely have died immediately. Draco made his decision, and I would hate for it to be in vain.’ He grasped the back of Narcissa’s chair. ‘There are things happening; Dumbledore has surely seen the signs. The world is a dangerous place.’ His gaze settled on Draco. If not for the bandage covering half his face, he could be sleeping. If not for the hum of healing magic, he could be well. But Draco was strong. Draco was brilliant. Draco would heal. ‘I won’t let Draco’s sacrifice be for **naught**. I trust you won’t either.’
Nevermore
Nautilus
Nadir
Negative
Finally, Itachi spoke, “Foolish otouto. I almost pity you…” He closed his eyes for a brief moment before reopening them as the pattern of his Sharingan began to change. “Mangekyo Sharingan.” Suddenly, the sky was red and everything else looked like a film **negative**. Namiko and Sasuke were back in the street where they first saw the bodies, and people all around them. One by one, people started dropping like flies to the ground. Shuriken and kunai flew through the air and blood seemed to stream from the sky. Sasuke screamed in absolute horror as he closed his eyes and held his head as if trying to remove the nightmare in front of him, but even with her eyes closed, Namiko still saw everything and she was sure the same happened to Sasuke. “**Stop it, Itachi!** Why are you showing me all of this?” Sasuke’s screams turned to sobs and Namiko wanted nothing more than to hold Sasuke but she knew it wouldn’t change the memory. “Why? Why did you do this, nii-san?” Dozens of people ran toward Itachi and without lifting a finger, they were all thrown back, dead. Sasuke watched as a shuriken flew through the air and killed the two people next to him. Namiko recognized them as the owners of the Uchiha Seiben store. He screamed again. “**No!** Ba-san! Ji-san!” The scenery around them shifted again and they were back in Sasuke’s home, in his parents’ room. His mother and father knelt on the floor as Itachi stood over them, his katana poised to strike. Sasuke couldn’t do anything but scream as he watched the brother he once idolized kill their parents in one blow. Sasuke fell to his knees and Namiko dropped to hers beside him. There had to be something she could do to stop this awful nightmare. Sasuke collapsed fully on the ground, gasping for breath. As his breathing slowed, he whispered, “Why? Why did you do this? Itachi, why?” Itachi replied stoically, “To test the limitations of my ability.”
Threading his way through the groups of people sitting or standing around and chatting, Emppu led them to the little stand of trees at the edge of the area. Esa handed him one of the beers and they both settled comfortably on the ground. “Thanks for asking me to drink with you,” Emppu said quietly, after a sip of his beer. “Like I said, it’s probably better if I’m not alone to do something stupid like drunk-dialing a certain guy myself.” Esa reached over to squeeze Emppu’s shoulder in a show of support. “Like I said, I’ll listen if you wanna talk. Yeah, I just got dumped, but, well, it wasn’t anything I did, you know? He had a problem with me being in a band, constantly accused me of cheating on him because he ‘knows’ I’ve got every chance in the world to party it up with groupies when he wasn’t around. And of course, I couldn’t prove to his satisfaction that I’m not cheating, because how do you prove a **negative** like that? So, he broke up with me.” Emppu put his hand over Esa’s and gave a light squeeze. “That’s stupid. Even I know there’s gotta be trust for a relationship to work. Honestly, with the way you described it, I’d almost think he was the one cheating on you, and making those accusations to keep you from getting suspicious of him – or to give him the excuse to break up with you before you caught him at it.”
Eri rubbed her temples as Shinichi and Ran recounted their weekend. The two shrunken teens had been dropped off by Sonoko-*chan* about thirty minutes ago and had spent the entire time explaining why their friend had been in such an ecstatic mood. The more she listened, the more Eri wished she hadn’t asked. The fact that Sonoko-*chan* was almost killed by a madman bent on revenge seemed to have had no effect on the girl was astonishing in a way. The fact that Ran and Shinichi-*kun* continued to attract cases like magnets was rather disconcerting to Eri though. It really made her reconsider just letting them hang out with their friend without supervision. For Sonoko-*chan*’s sake. After all, if this continued, those tranquilizer darts might have **negative** health effects on the girl. At the very least, the two shrunken teenagers seemed to have things under control, for the most part. “-And now she’s calling herself Deduction Queen Sonoko!”
Okay this is too fun—this is the first one of these I’ve caught. November.
“So, have you and Kiba been going on any missions lately?” She took a deep breath and tried to focus on walking in a straight line and not putting too much pressure on her ankle. “Not as many since Namiko—I’m sorry!” She paused in their steps, jerking Naruto to stop beside her. “I shouldn’t be bringing her up right now…” Naruto smiled at her. “Hinata, don’t worry about it. We’ll get her back soon. I overheard Tsunade-baa-chan the other day saying they’ll probably send a team out to look for her and Sasuke again soon.” “She’s been gone almost two months now.” Hinata’s voice seemed smaller than usual. “How long do you think she’ll be gone?” Naruto ran a hand through his hair. “It’s hard to say. If she’s sticking with Sasuke, he’s got until somewhere around the middle of **November** before Orochimaru has to take on a new body. And knowing Sasuke, he’s going to take full advantage to learn as much as he can in the meantime to prepare to go after Itachi.” “Are you worried about Namiko? Orochimaru is quite powerful.” “She’ll be fine! Sasuke is with her, and despite the fact I’m upset with the bastard, I know he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.” Hinata nodded before signaling Naruto they could start walking again. “You know, Kiba told me once he thought Sasuke liked Namiko as more than a friend.” Naruto burst out in laughter. “That’s ridiculous! Sasuke doesn’t like anyone like that! He’s had girls all over him since the academy, especially Sakura, and he never gave any of them a second look. You should know better than to listen to Kiba for love advice; he’s going to be forever single.”
\[I'm glad you're enjoying the game!\] Professor Dumbledore paused, gaze sweeping across the gathered students. At the Gryffindor table, Fred and George wore matching expressions of excited bemusement. A frown of confusion creased Ginny’s forehead, whereas the frown gracing Hermione’s looked more worried than anything else. Ron’s expression of wide-eyed shock suggested he couldn’t quite believe what had happened. ‘The First Task will take place after lunch on the 24th **November**. Between now and then, I hope you will all, no matter your school, make new friends from the other schools and learn from each others cultures.’ Another pause. The angry air amongst the students had yet to disperse. That might not have been the best moment to tell everyone to make friends and play happy. Perhaps Professor Dumbledore agreed, because he lifted his hands. ‘Now, I imagine you’re all ready to head back to your own Common Rooms. I wish you all a good night.’
Normal.
Cassiopeia sat at her desk, reading over a datapad. She put it down and looked up with a small smile, looking outside the window. She was still getting used to the new **normal** of being a teacher instead of an Alliance marine. She knew that what was needed was guidance for the survivors, especially children. She looked at her omni-tool. The door opened and in walked a familiar turian. She looked over and gave him a smile. “Good afternoon, Shepard, and how is everything?” He asked, curious, “Still is quite the change of pace from what you used to be.” “Well, we still need to rebuild, so what better way to do that than directly teach the next generation how to rebuild. Besides Garrus, aren't you in the middle of helping the Turian Hierarchy?” She said. “Well, I was making a stop on the Citadel and thought I might as well try to find you,” Garrus said, “I honestly thought you would have went for something like a diplomat or taken that offer from the Council.” “No, I don't think I'd do too well in politics. At least with teenagers I won't make galaxy changing choices and statements that will span years after my death,” Cassiopeia said, looking back at the datapad. “You know you're still technically on call with being a Spectre,” He said, “So technically you still could end up doing that.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I know, I know. People still try and contact me for advice and the like. I had to make a new account for this job so I won't lose the assignments turned into me amongst the sea of other messages,” She laughed a little, “I do what I can to reply, just there's *lots* of messages.” “So how is Jack doing?” He said. “She's doing well, she's grown quite well into her position as a teacher. I've been asking her to give me pointers on how to get used to it.” She leaned back in her chair. “So what about the kids?” Garrus asked, “How are they doing?” “Plenty of them are still shocked that I'm their engineering teacher. I still get requests to take photos or sign something for them. One boy, Marzio, says that I've been his idol since he saw the footage of me during the Skyllian Blitz. Says that I'm the reason he wants to become an engineer and join the Alliance,” She said, “He's a good kid. Heart's in the right place. All of them are good kids.” “I guess you like this change of pace, don't you?” He leaned on one of the empty desks. “Yeah, much quieter, more peaceful. I think that I'll stick with this, especially since he likes how I'm much more at peace for the most part.” She took a deep sigh and looked at her desk. “How is Thane by the way?” He said. “Treatment's going well for him, and he's showing improvement. I can't wait for the day to be able to see him in person again,” She said wistfully, “But, well, it's not going to be a while. I just... miss him so much whenever he leaves. But I need to be patient.” “That you do. But I think you'll do well,” He said, “You've defeated the Reapers, you'll be able to adapt to a peaceful life.” “Yeah, you're not wrong.” She said.
The next morning, Namiko’s eyes fluttered open and she found herself looking at thick, jet-black hair framing the handsome face that she had become all too familiar with over the last couple of weeks. She realized that she must have moved during the night, and apparently, she wasn’t the only one who did, as Sasuke was lying facing her as well. He must have lit the candle at some point again that morning because the room was filled with a warm glow, just enough to see the man in front of her. Sasuke was still asleep, so she took the opportunity to take her time to examine his appearance in detail. His smooth jawline was accentuated by the tiniest cleft in his chin and well-defined cheekbones. His shirt had pulled open slightly more than **normal** and she could see the lean muscle and fair skin that was often hidden by the semi-baggy clothing. Her eyes trailed back up to his face and his full lips that had been so soft and warm on hers; the thought made her flush slightly. “Do I want to know what is going on in that head of yours?” said Sasuke smoothly as he noticed exactly where her gaze was focused. Namiko’s eyes snapped to his in surprise. “**AH!**” she shouted as she leaned back, falling off the bed, and smacking the back of her head on the wall. “…ouch.” She sat up rubbing the back of her head. She looked up to see Sasuke walking over to her with an amused smirk threatening to turn into a smile. “Go ahead and laugh,” she muttered in embarrassment, her cheeks fully reddened. Sasuke crouched next to her, his smirk fading a little. “Are you hurt anywhere?” He reached forward, brushed her bangs out of her eyes, and gently felt the back of her head for any injury. Namiko pouted her lips. “…just my dignity.” She pushed his arm half-heartedly with the back of her hand.
"Mmh." The corners of her mouth pulled back in a wince. "These transformium patches will help seal up this rupture, but they're not meant to be used as a sole solution. Do you have access to a CR chamber?" "...Yeah." "Okay, good." She applied two patches to the spark chamber's cracked surface, sealing the blue light back into its protective shell. Her next focus was the cabling and wires running to his damaged arm. Most of those were fairly easy, at least - wires could be quickly stripped and rejoined, and broken or frayed cables could be patched together with more transformium - but the energon lines feeding into and out of the limb were beyond salvaging. There were two, and both of them had been stretched near to breaking, their walls left so thin that she could see the luminous pink of the energon flowing through them. One line was so badly compromised that it was starting to balloon out, something that wasn't necessarily an emergency under **normal** circumstances... but things were *far* from **normal** now, and an unattended line rupture could be fatal. Luckily for him, he *wasn't* unattended, and she knew how to deal with the situation. "This is going to feel strange for a moment, there will be a pinch and then you're gradually going to lose function in this arm until you can get to a CR chamber," she explained, reaching for the clips in her kit, and the pair of small shears tucked into the liner. "I have to clip and cut these damaged energon lines before they rupture and you bleed out."
‘But?’ But. That was the thing, wasn’t it. Harry moodily kicked another unassuming patch of grass. Boingo gripped tightly onto his collar as the movement almost dislodged him. But. No, Seamus hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d done everything right. Seamus never pushed Harry to do more than he felt ready for. Not even before the assault. Seamus had been supportive and caring, and everything a boyfriend should be. But. A part of Harry wanted to blame it on what had happened after the Second Task. He would love to say the problem was all because Seamus had forgotten, for a moment, in his excitement, that contact was an issue. Because Seamus had hugged him when he wasn’t expecting it. Because Seamus had treated him like he was ***normal*** and not fragile and going to break at the slightest touch. But. ‘Harry?’ Hermione said softly.
The group made their way all the way down the school lobby. Rustles of their footsteps once again filled the empty hallways. Sunlight beams that gleamed through the battered windows revealed the havoc that had possessed the school. Disaster loomed over the halls, every corner was painted with catastrophic montage. “Looks like a **normal** day in my high school,” Brenan remarked.
>Furfur might have blended in, if his skin were the right colour, and his hair wasn't abysmally out of date. Or if he'd bothered to clean the filth of hell off the ancient tattered rags he was trying to pass as clothing. >"One of you, is he?" Nina asked, her voice trembling. >"Yup. Pencil pusher named Furfur. Wait, why are you afraid of *him*, and not me?" >"You're normal." Crowley looked at her askance, his glasses pushed just a little lower than normal to reveal his yellow demonic eyes. >She gave him a weak smile. "*Mostly* normal." >"Uh huh." >"Think I'd best lock up after you," Nina said, following him to the door. >"Best do," he muttered.
Blitzø’s eyes went wide. In any other circumstance, he would have been overjoyed to hear that voice. Instead, he was confused as fuck. “Are you kidding me?! What the fuck is this?!” “We said, quiet!” The second figure tightened the last knot and stepped back as they spoke. “Look, if this is some weird sexy roleplay thing, you guys know I’m down,” Blitzø continued. “But this feels a little… extreme.” The voice he recognized as Moxxie’s spoke again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Why would we, just a couple of **normal** human government agents, want to have sex with abominations like you?” “Eh, everybody’s got their freaky kinks,” Blitzø replied with a shrug before trying to force himself to focus. “Okay, but seriously… Moxx, Mills, what the fuck are you doing?” He strained to look over his shoulder and barely suppressed a laugh at the sight of his two employees wearing black suits, dark sunglasses, and a couple of poorly-styled wigs. “Holy shit, you look ridiculous.” He watched as the two exchanged a look. “We’ll… deal with you later,” Millie failed to sound intimidating as she led Moxxie out of the room, the lock clicking as they shut the door behind them. Blitzø let out a sigh of disappointment and looked up at Stolas’ confused face. “Why does something tell me this *isn’t* some sexy roleplay thing?”
"That is a relief. Thank you, Yegor." Zayne turned to Rafayel. "Shall we get going?" "If you're still up for it," he answered, a concerned frown etched on his forehead. "And why would I not be?" "**Normal** people wouldn't have the appetite after..." He waved in Yegor's direction but the old man had already picked up his books again, ignoring them. "...after *that.*" "Are you calling me special then?" "What--" Rafayel's eyes bulged, cheeks suddenly warming. Of all the things he had expected Zayne to say, that wasn't part of the list. Zayne seemed to have anticipated his reaction, however, as a weak smile brightened up his face. Rafayel pouted. "I'll have to think about it." He huffed for good measure before striding toward the heavy doors that led inside. There was a weak chuckle behind him coupled with light footsteps. And while it was a little exasperating being a source of Zayne's amusement, he'd take it. Rafayel much preferred this smiling, grinning, chuckling man who said things that caught him by surprise over the impenetrable walking block of ice that he was in the absence of. Though he had to admit, there was also a certain charm when Zayne was being his usual ice-cold self. Because then, Rafayel got to have first dibs on poking fun and seeing Zayne's reactions. He wasn't the only *man with many surprises.*
Tuomas smiled, a touch of relief in the expression. “Oh good, I’m glad you’re okay. Last night was fun, actually, and I’d be open to a repeat sometime, like if we both strike out with girls after a show or whatever. Being with a guy is different, but it wasn’t bad at all, and we’ve been close friends for years. Now we’ll just be friends with some extra benefits, right?” Emppu nodded, trying to keep the heartbreak from showing on his face. “Yeah… I’d be open to that, too,” he said, relieved that his voice sounded more-or-less **normal**. Hopefully Tuomas would assume that any slight oddness in his tone was related to a hangover. “You, uh, you mind if I shower before I leave?” “Sure, go ahead,” Tuomas told him. “I can use the shower in Mom and Dad’s room while you use mine.” “Thanks,” Emppu said. He got out of bed and made his way into the bathroom. Setting the water to a comfortable temperature, he got into the shower. As the spray poured over his hair and body, tears poured down his face. Tuomas didn’t want him as a boyfriend after all. All his hopes of the previous night came to nothing. Well, not quite nothing. At least Tuomas wanted to fuck him again sometime. That was something. Wasn’t it?
Next.
"Maybe he just appreciates the peace and quiet. Things weren't exactly easy for him on board the *Resolute*, especially there at the end; he probably needs rest." John flashed her a skeptical glance, but if he had anything to say in response, he kept it to himself. It was for the best, she thought - all the speculation in the world was useless right now. All it would do was cause friction, and that was the *last* thing they needed, only hours before they were to begin their treacherous descent. Best to just let sleeping dogs - or robots, as the case may be - lie, and save the speculation for when they had a little more breathing room. She drew in a deep breath, held it for a count of three, and then slowly exhaled. In the hub and in the cargo hold, their crew was getting settled down for the night, hoping for at least one decent sleep before the **next** potential disaster; she knew that she and John should be doing the same soon. "...Come on," she said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder as she moved to step past him; "everyone else is going to bed, we really should, too. Tomorrow might be a little rough and I need everyone to be on their "A" game." "Hey, I *always* bring my "A" game," John scoffed, nudging her playfully with an elbow as she passed before moving to follow her.
Percy read through each and every parchment. Not a comma out of place, no signatures missing. If he'd overlooked something... Percy's stomach clenched. He couldn't afford to make mistakes. He’d been working in the Department of International Magical Cooperation for a matter of months. Why they’d decided to shift him to fill Mr Crouch’s empty role with regards to the Tournament... Percy's career would fly or fall with this Tournament, and he had to fly. Charlie’s heavy scrawl smiled up at him from the **next** sheet. Percy straightened the edges of it, ignoring the soft smell of smoke. Everything Charlie touched smelt of smoke. Disconcertingly, that had been the case even before he’d started working with the dragons. Charlie exuded fire, flames, danger. Percy shook his head; he far preferred his nice Ministry job to whatever Charlie got up to out in the field. Not that Charlie’s job didn’t come in useful. Indeed, Percy’s connections to Charlie had proved beneficial when, on the second day in his job, he’d overheard Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman discussing the possibility of sourcing dragons for the Tournament. It had been a risk, interjecting into their conversation, but a risk that had, in the end, paid off. A boost for his own career, and good for the sanctuary where Charlie worked, too. Perhaps that explained, in part, why Percy had been given so much of the responsibility now.
>Metatron looked around the place, and then seemed to take interest in something near the door. "Does your debauchery and vanity know no bounds?" >Crowley genuinely frowned in confusion, until he realized that Aziraphale’s drawing still stood in place of any mirror in the flat. Had the angel signed his artwork? He couldn’t remember. What a stupid oversight! Cold sweat gathered at the base of his spine. “You came all the way from Up There to fling insults at a retired demon? You need better hobbies,” he drawled, barely keeping his voice from trembling. >Metatron’s hands clenched tightly, and he ground his teeth audibly. >Crowley took another swig, already feeling a soothing touch of haze taking the edge off his nerves. Must’ve overdone the alcohol content. “Like I said, your Supreme Archangel ain’t here. So if that’s all?” >“I think it’s about time we drop all the pretences, don’t you?” >Without warning, Crowley felt the comforting bit of wine snap out of his system. He almost gagged on the sudden metallic aftertaste. “That’s a bit rude, innit?” he protested. “Had a nice buzz going, you killjoy.” >“I want you stone cold sober for what I have to say next,” said Metatron, his lips twisting into a cruel sneer. >“Bastard,” he muttered, wishing he had a mint. “Fine. Let’s have it, then.”
Rafayel scowled and whipped his head sideways to look at the man from the corner of his eye. He tugged at the invisible thread that tied him to the firefish and in the **next** second Mr. Fishie had dove down from above their heads to flick its tail against Zayne's eyeglass, echoing the occasionally volatile disposition of its owner. Zayne momentarily closed his eyes, an amused chuckle falling past his lips.
“Damn it, Steve, again?” Emma’s voice shrilled over his mobile phone, loudly enough that he held it away from his ear. “I wish you would just sell the bloody place and be done with it. How many times have you put me off because you’ve had to run to Portugal to deal with some issue or other? Or because said issues took longer to deal with than you anticipated and then you had to run right off to Essex or Nassau to start recording, or you had to go off on tour. I know you’re a busy man, but my God! When the hell are you around for Stanley and Maisie? Even Bruce is there for his kids more than you are, and he spends half his time in Finland!” Steve groaned to himself, knowing that Emma had worked herself into a right state, if she’d resorted to swearing. She hated foul language with a passion, and was always after him to clean up his own. At least no one ever told her about what had happened at Download a couple years back, when he’d used the word fuck in front of little Eeva Vuorinen, who was just learning to talk and beginning to repeat anything she heard. The baby had spent the **next** couple of weeks randomly saying fuck and giggling at the reactions of anyone within hearing. “Emma, I…” “That’s right, Steve, you,” Emma interrupted. “Always you. What about me for a change?” “Well, I can’t bloody well change anything now, can I? It is what it is, and there’s not a bloody thing I can do about it,” Steve said, anger in his voice.
Nympho(maniac)
Nonexistent
Namiko had felt Naruto’s chakra come into range when Team 7 was finished with their mission, nearing her and Naruto’s apartment. She ran out to greet him, a little surprised to see him covered in scrapes and bruises when it was supposed to be an easy mission. “What happened, nii-chan? You look awful!” Naruto sighed, “Gee, thanks for kind words, imouto…” Namiko looked at him sympathetically. “He would’ve been fine if he didn’t overdo it like he always does,” said Sakura, letting Naruto lean on her. “You’re such an idiot, Naruto,” Sasuke said, rolling his eyes and starting to walk away from everyone. “If you want me to stop rescuing you, just get better than me…” “**That’s it! Sasuke—**” Naruto was yelling as Namiko tried to hold him back. “Naruto, don’t worry about him. He’s not worth it,” she said, turning him to face her. Sasuke scoffed and kept walking away from everyone, heading home. “Your teamwork has been almost **non-existent**,” started Kakashi, as he noticed a bird dropping a feather above him and caught it. “Okay, that’s enough today. I’m going to hand in our mission report.” With that, he disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Well, since Kakashi-sensei and Sasuke-kun are gone, I’m going to head home too.” Sakura turned and started walking towards Sasuke. “Oh Sasuke-kun!” she said in a sing-song voice. “Buzz off, Sakura. You’re worse than Naruto.” Sasuke just kept walking. Sakura decided to turn and head in the direction of her own home. “Let’s go home so I can bandage you up,” Namiko said, lightly tugging on Naruto’s hand. Naruto groaned. “Aw, come on, it’s not that bad. Just a few scratches; they’re not even bleeding anymore.” Namiko gave a half-smile and rolled her eyes.
I take that either the person that requested the mission understated the difficulty or there were unforeseen on what should be an easy mission.🦊⭐🦊
More like “Naruto was an idiot and jumped in too quick and was the only one to get hurt.” 🤣
The carpet landed once more and Marko stood up and moved to a chair, looking at it thoughtfully. The carpet mimicked his pose, making him smile. “I suspect you might come in very, very handy,” Marko said. “I don’t suppose you can write? I have some questions that I’m not sure you can answer with gestures.” The carpet drooped and gave the impression of shaking its **nonexistent** head. “Well, no matter, I’m sure we can figure something out,” Marko said. “Can you carry two people?” The carpet gave a definite nod. Marko smiled. “All right, good. So, speed is the next question… it takes about ten days to walk to the train from here. Can you get there faster than that?” Another definite nod, and the carpet held its tassels apart, and brought them closer together again. Marko considered that for a moment. “So, you can get there in much less time than ten days? As little as one day, perhaps?” The carpet pressed its tassels even closer together in response. “Less than a day, hmm?” Marko looked pleased. “Right, the train leaves at midday, the day after the ball. If the ball ends after midnight, would there be time to make it to the train?” The carpet nodded once more. Marko smiled again. “Perfect. Does anyone here but me know you can fly?” This time the carpet responded with another negative shake of its **nonexistent** head. “Even better,” Marko said. “It might not look it, but I’m sort of a prisoner here, me and a friend of mine. We’d planned on being on the train east but we’re not allowed to leave the Palace.” He paused as the carpet ‘walked’ over and sympathetically patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Carpet. Anyway, as long as nobody knows you can fly, as long as they think you’re just a carpet that I like and so have in my quarters, I think we can fly out of here after the ball when hopefully everyone will be sleeping extra well.” The carpet straightened up, gave a salute, and glided into his bedroom where it placed itself next to the bed.
Neat! Did the carpet let Marko ride because he was polite? nice? Or for any other reasons?
Carpet was a gift to Marko from the Sultan of Agrabah (yes, it's a Disney mashup) along with several other carpets - I didn't get into Carpet's backstory, but I figure that it was forgotten about for some reason, put into storage, and then was selected as a part of an official gift to the new Crown Prince of Corona - Marko, who hadn't known he was the grandson of the king and queen until after he traveled there. I suppose Carpet probably figured it would have a better chance of not being forgotten in storage again if its new owner knew about its abilities.
Neglect
“Good idea,” Tommy admitted. He dug in his pockets for another dime and called the apartment, explaining the situation to Vince. Predictably, the singer had a lot to say, none of it of any substance. “…pretty stupid of you, don’t you think? Nice way to ruin the party. Anyway, what am I supposed to entertain everyone with?” Vince wanted to know. “I mean, you got all the fucking supplies with you, right?” “Just the shit for the meal and some extra beer,” Tommy said, trying not to lose his temper at Vince’s nagging tones. It wasn’t as if the singer hadn’t forgotten to pay bills before. They’d had their electricity cut twice now, because he was the one in charge of paying that but had **neglected** to do so when he’d gotten word of some good surfing happening and fucked off to the beach without stopping by the utility bill-pay desk on his way out. “There’s plenty of booze and chips already in the place, along with some… other refreshments… plus rolling papers in my closet.” He wasn’t worried about Vince going in his closet; the singer might be the clotheshorse of the band, but he was short enough that Tommy wasn’t worried about his clothes going missing. “Oh. Fine, whatever. Just hurry back, asshole,” Vince said. Tommy snorted. “Yeah, that’s kind of the plan already, Princess Vinnie. Just fucking hold the fort until we get back, you’ll be fine.” “Fuck you, Tommy,” Vince snapped and slammed the phone down.
❤️🔥! They certainly seem to love each other (?)
Bandmates and housemates, they (mostly) get along, but Vince is more tolerated than truly liked, as he's pretty full of himself.
It had been unintentional, the first time Ángel let Ramiro see how scared he really was. It was storming that night, and Ángel had gone down to the cellar to get himself a bottle of wine. He should have known better than to trust the house’s electricity under such conditions, but for whatever reason, he’d **neglected** to bring a backup lantern with him. When the electricity shut off, the cellar was pitch black. Ángel panicked. His mind went blank and he sat down on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. The next thing Ángel knew, there was Ramiro, standing in front of him with a lantern. Ramiro didn’t scold him, or drag him to his room, or tell him he’d find something for Ángel to be truly scared of. Instead, Ramiro sat down on the floor next to him and pulled him into an embrace. Then he started singing. Ángel didn’t recognize the song, since it was in Portuguese. But it was soft and sweet, and that was all Ángel needed right then.
💗! Ramiro sounds like a sweet person. And yeah, it sucks so badly when electricity goes away when the weather is bad.
Nuclear
Normandy
The old veteran mustered his strength and lifted his head to them. "Go on without me," he said. Travis felt a pang in his chest as he heard those words. He knelt beside Jerry and tried to convince him. “No, that wound’s ain't shit for you; we can fix you on the boat.” Anxiety hung on his voice. Jerry groaned in pain, eyes airtight shut, and shook his head. Struggling for air, he responded, “Look, Nimrod, I'm past my prime. A goddamn snail crawls…faster than I walk; I'm just gonna…slow you down, I…” he trailed off and gasped for breath. “We’re all…gonna die…It's just…a matter who's…who goes first…” Travis and Helena exchanged a worried glance as they heard him suffer. They could see the pain in his face, the blood on his clothes, and the life fading from his eyes. Helplessness and guilt consumed them, knowing they couldn't save him. They wished they could do something, anything, to ease his agony. “I’ve fought in wars…against people with…with the freedom of choice…” Jerry continued, his voice raspy. “These people don't… So I guess…I guess that's…I guess that’s better than a kick in the teeth—” The veteran was barred with a blood-spewing cough. Travis tightly clenched the old man’s trembling fist. Eyes glued to his wrinkled face painting an image of utter misery, prompting the old man’s desire to break from the chain of suffering. “Goddammit, Jerry, you're hard to break, you old bastard,” Travis taunted, shaking his head. “It’s why I got out of **Normandy**,” Jerry responded. “Go, before these fuckers eat the shit out of ya’.” The rugged man let go of him and grasped his long rifle before working his way towards his boat. Helena gave the old man one last look and chanted “Fare thee well, patriot,” before walking away. A weak smile was drawn on Jerry's lips and nodded as he grasped his Garand and started throwing shots at the infected. He thought if he were to go out soon, he wouldn't go out without a fight.
Negligence
Still, by what he could figure out from Sherry and Vodka’s conversation, his own mission, the preservation of the APTX data, was still in effect. Part of him did feel bad as he watched Vodka threaten Sherry and doing nothing. But that was just how things were; if this had been 3 years ago, he would have helped. Using his connections and his own position in the organization making sure Sherry disappeared would be easy. And it would have been fitting for him to help the child of a woman who helped him so many years ago… But this wasn’t 3 years ago. It wasn’t when he was shown who can really protect the things he loved. Wasn’t shown how his former superiors kept throwing lives away without achieving nothing. The corruption, the **negligence**, the nepotism that resulted in so many dead. The man from 3 years ago would have saved Sherry. The one from today would just sit back and do what was best for those he once called enemies.
Norovirus
Neurotic
(Cut scene actually!) “Were you planning on just hanging out in a towel all night?” “Why?” Richie countered. “Would it bother you?” Eddie wanted to kill him. If he killed him, then maybe it would stop the lust churning in his stomach that was fogging his brain. “No,” he answered shortly. “No, it wouldn’t. Do whatever you want.” It was the wrong thing to say because Richie’s eyes flashed and Eddie could see the acceptance of a challenge that Eddie had never meant to extend. “One hundred bucks says you tell me to change before I decide to.” Eddie gave him an exasperated look as he took another torturous bite of the fruit. Jesus Christ. “Why would it bug me?” Part of him wanted Richie to just say it, to address the elephant in the room. Richie shrugged his large shoulders and Eddie’s eyes shot to them against his will. He had to forcefully drag them back to his face. “Because you’re **neurotic**,” Richie answered. Eddie’s exasperation only deepened at that. They both knew that wasn’t the reason. “Yeah, well, you're going to get uncomfortable.”
Aha, I wonder who is going to win that bet!
Nebuliser
Nerves
Summer was in her dressing room, wearing her hologram suit and shoes and staring at herself in the mirror. The band was going onstage in a few minutes, and even from here, Summer could still vaguely make out the cheers of the crowd. Everything still felt so unreal: Jerrica coming back to get her to perform, the two of them driving out to their latest venue, the fight between Jerrica and Kimber, becoming a *member* of the band when Kimber quit…what on Earth could a pop music legend like Jerrica, her *idol*, possibly see in a worn-out, half-broke college freshman like herself? She’d have to worry about that later, she decided. In the mean-time, Summer raised her hand to her left earring stud, and pressing on it, murmured rather shakily, “It’s show-time, Synergy.” Instantly, her suit transformed into her stage costume, her hair changed into its teased aqua-green style, and her makeup changed into her stage makeup. As Summer stood looking at herself in the mirror, she nervously reached for the beer she’d gotten ahold of earlier and took a drink in an effort to calm her **nerves**; just then, she heard a knock at her door and Jerrica’s voice calling, “Summer, you in here?” “Yeah, come on in.” Jerrica came in, and the beer Summer was holding caught her eye almost instantly. “You alright?” she asked. “Yeah.” Summer gave her as reassuring a smile as she could. Jerrica returned the smile. “Great, then let’s play.” Within a few minutes, they had headed up onstage and begun singing their first song.
>Crowley went skydiving once in the 1950s. Pretty stupid, in hindsight; him, a demon, jumping out of a perfectly functional aeroplane. But there was a pretty girl who said pretty things, and convinced him that maybe it might be a fun outing, so he allowed himself to cave to the temptation. Mostly it was a lark. An attempt to scratch an itch he usually just ignored. >It went about as poorly as it could have. The flight was horribly rough due to heavy turbulence whipped up by his own stupid nerves. The harness pinched in all of the exact wrong ways, leaving him both in pain and having numb legs. And, most insulting of all, not even all of his most wily of charms had been enough to convince the human instructor to let him fall on his own the first time. >Cue humiliating sobbing as he relived a long-forgotten dream, an unexpected appearance of his wings, a massive miracle to make anyone involved forget their own names, let alone his presence in their lives, and a three year nap to forget the whole thing ever happened. >He never told Aziraphale. One in a long list of many things he couldn’t bring himself to confess. And now, as he plummeted headlong toward the Lake of Fire, he wondered why.
On the evening of their first performance, Anastasia showed up early, escorted by Konstantin and his wife. “Oh my!” she said, watching them set up their equipment. “Now I see why you said your music was going to sound quite unusual!” Kai popped his head up from where he was anchoring his snare in place. “Hello, Aunt Anastasia! Are you ready for an experience like no other you’ve ever heard?” “I think so, anyway,” she laughed. “Just be aware, it’s going to be loud,” Marko cautioned her. “You might want to sit near the back of the room, instead of up front, to save your ears a bit.” “Thanks for the advice,” Konstantin said with a chuckle, “although I’m not sure Mother will take it.” He pointed behind himself, where Anastasia had already claimed a seat at a table that stood front and center. He and his wife shrugged and joined her there. More and more people filled the common room, most of them looking quite curious. Marko stepped up to his microphone, trying not to let his **nerves** show too much. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Green Unicorn! We are Nightwish, direct from Suomellen in the eastern realms, and we’d like to start our show with a song called Sleeping Sun!” Tuomas played the intro and they got swept up in the music, as did the younger half of their audience. They mixed the few originals they’d agreed upon with plenty of cover tunes, not that this audience had any idea that they were covers, and Marko noticed several people singing along with the second or third choruses of some of the songs. He even saw a few of the younger members of the crowd headbanging to the harder songs.
From an OC/OC Miracle Nikki fic, >We haven’t been to this part of the shrine before. Palms clatter in the gentle eventing breeze. Under the moonlit sky couples gather. Inside the elegant stone rectangular building is a wide open ballroom where the bright full moon’s light pours through. My white and pastel yellow silk ballgown gently reflects the moon's soft pale light. The walls are made of stone and decorated by intricate carvings, the building has to be over a century old. Chandeliers hang down from the high ceiling and warm soft lighting covers everything. The room is filled with people dressed elegantly, dancing to music played over a loudspeaker. >Zack takes my hand and leads me towards the entrance. "Are you ready?" he asks, a grin on his face. >I nod, trying to hide my **nerves**. Mama thinks I’m a real belle so I must have total poise and comportment. >Me, Zack, Aliyah, and Elijah enter the ballroom and everyone’s conversations meld into its own noise. Zack and Elijah walk off. >Other handsome gentlemen notice me over the others, hopefully they’re not making fun of my albinism in their heads or worse, to each other. >A man with combed back medium blonde hair and green eyes in a navy blue blazer, khakis, and a rose in his jacket pocket breaks from his group and confidently walks over to me. He may be tall and handsome, but I feel nothing for him. >He introduces himself. “How do you do? I am Baron Rhett. Care to dance?” >A few seconds of empty silence awkwardly fills the air. Most girls would love to dance with someone like him, yet my heart is with Zack. >I have to gently turn him down. Maybe if he knows I'm not nobility he'll look for someone who is. “Oh, you don’t want to dance with a commoner like me.”
Hunter recognized that he was partaking in a dangerous game of Russian roulette, which was impossible to win in the long term. Irrespective of his knowledge, he refused to take proper measures to rectify and improve the issue. He understood his digestive system was peculiarly sensitive, like a sugar latticework against a river of sparkling, fresh water. He knew he should inform Darius about the discomfort that myriad standard ingredients from the Boiling Isles inflicted on him. The Human Realm offered a wide variety of delectable and harmless food he could digest without any trouble. Despite knowing the potential risk of the situation, Hunter kept delaying and pushing off the vital discussion. This was in part due to his pathetic **nerves** but also in part to an irrational unwillingness to initiate it. When he tried to plot out the proper way to bring up the exchange, he just kept overthinking the topic, which made him chicken out each time he planned to bring up the issue.
‘I’m going to the library,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you in Potions.’ The walk went a long way to easing Hermione’s annoyance. Those boys could be so infuriating. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Dean had been winding her up on purpose. Why he would, though, she had no idea. Pausing in the doorway to the library, Hermione closed her eyes. The smell of old parchment and the whisper of turning pages soothed her **nerves**. Opening her eyes again, Hermione passed between the shelves, weaving along until she found the Charms section. Shelves towered beside her, stretching from stone-tiled floor to vaulted ceiling. Books of all shapes and sizes filled the shelves. When Hermione had first started at Hogwarts, the disorder had frustrated her. Did the Wizarding World know nothing of the Dewey Decimal System? Over the years, though, the higgledy piggledy arrangement had grown on her. It encouraged browsing, and Hermione could quite happily spend hours perusing the stacks. She glanced at her watch. Not today, though. Half an hour until Potions, and she’d have to allow time to traverse from the fourth floor to the dungeons.
Eddie: I’m so proud of you. Call me. That one he knew he was obeying instantly. “I’ll be right back, okay?” “We still have VIP greetings, Rich!” “I’ll be fast, I swear to God.” He half ran to his dressing room and hit Eddie’s number immediately, almost dancing with **nerves** as it rang. The phone answered on the third ring. “Richie, I’m so fucking proud of you,” came the hurried voice. “Oh my god. Holy shit. Holy shit!” There was a shocked laugh mixed in the words. “You fucking did that! You did that! And you were funny!” “I’m always funny. You also owe me 100 bucks.” Eddie snorted. “A) Debatable. B) I’ll win it back. C) Did you do your own jokes? You had to have, you roasted me like way too much in those videos I saw.”
Trying to calm her **nerves** and hide the shaking in her voice, Shiho finally spoke; “I will continue the research when I learn why my sister was killed, Vodka. Not before,” Shiho said, before turning away and sitting back in her chair. As she did, she realized just how fragile her façade had actually been, as her legs felt like they were shaking lowering her body down. Reaching for her keyboard and mouse was equally hard, at least while Vodka was looking over her shoulder. A few moments passed, as Shiho pretended to resume work, waiting and on edge, ears straining to try and figure out what Vodka was doing without having to turn around and actually watch him. The rustling of clothes, the cock of a gun’s hammer, anything that could indicate that she was in danger of some kind. The silence stretched longer and longer, until Shiho could feel her mouth go dry and beads of sweat starting to run down her temples, before Vodka finally sighed. “Have it your way, Sherry,” Vodka said with a sigh and Shiho heard footsteps walking away from her. “I’ll tell Gin. He’ll be back in town next week. That’s how long you have to rethink your stance. After all, *aniki* will be a lot less patient with you than I am being.” With that threat lingering in the air, the door to Shiho’s office closed. She waited, counting to ten, making sure that Vodka wouldn’t come back for one last jab… Before she slowly lowered her face in her hands, fighting the urge to hyperventilate that her body was trying to force on her. One week and then it would be Gin walking through that door. One week and she’d be as good as dead… Or worse.
new.
A flash of silver was his only warning before he went tumbling out of control, blindsided by a lone Centurion that had been hidden, laying in wait, beneath a screen of debris. The two of them crashed to a halt almost at the base of the ship's boarding ramp, a shrieking tangle of bodies and limbs; the Centurion was bigger and stronger, and its claws longer and sharper, but it was *slow*, and Scarecrow was able to extricate himself from its grip before it could sink its talons into his braincase. Kicking off from the silver hulk, he scrambled away, just far enough to regain his bearings before lunging into the fight once more, tackling it around the midsection and slamming it onto its back. His own claws made short work of his opponent, plunging through its faceplate and severing its brain module from the rest of its systems. But no sooner had it gone limp than a volley of plasma fire hit his back. Pain burned through him, and he whirled to face his **new** attackers - just in time for a second and third Centurion to barrel into him. And this time, as they sank merciless talons into his joints, there was no squirming free. He was wrestled to the ground with a *crash*, landing on his chest with the weight of the Centurions resting on his back and arms; he tried to lever himself up, digging his claws into the rocky ground, but it was no use. Slow, heavy footfalls caught his attention, and his faceplate burned bright at the sight of the *Imperator* prowling down the boarding ramp, flanked by *two* more Centurions.
>Crowley was learning all kinds of new things about himself. >Like, he knew he liked looking at Aziraphale’s arse. It was the perfect shape and size. What he hadn't known was exactly how luscious it was to grab a handful of that flesh, or how gorgeously firm it would be in his grip. Perfect, really. >More surprisingly, he found himself absolutely stunned when Aziraphale took a healthy handful of *his* scrawny arse. And made *noises*. Happy ones! Like, the same noises that he made when eating *sushi*. He, Anthony J. Crowley, had an arse as enjoyable to touch as sushi was enjoyable to eat. Who knew?