#deliverywtch

✝     ———-   ❛       don’t .     i like you better   oblivious ,     ❜     demands under guise of pleas trickle lightly as   warm raindrops   down your cheek at mid-summer  ,      the cradling connotation of his tongue leaves little room for protests  .     

—  @deliverywtch​​​  ♡ ’d  for  a  starter

          bonny had spotted her through the storm clouds being tossed and turned through the air by the rough southernly winds that was ripping across the coast and why harry and the crew were scrambling to secure the lost revenge before the real waves hit. harry balanced expertly on the ships gaff just as another gust of wind cut through the air and propelled the girl, her broom and her cat towards him.

 harry braced himself, teeth gritted harshly,   “    now  jonas !    ”    back on the deck, jonas and several other deckhands for the revenge crew pulled on the lines of the main sail and harry jumped. the witch hit him hard but he wrapped his arms around her waist, grasping hold of the broom and together they fell.

a:tla sentence starters     //     accepting.

how terrible !      brows furrow while lips draw taut ,  expression caught between sympathy and determination.           ❝ but there has to be something we can do. ❞            that’s not quite right.  it’s not the thought swirling round in his head.   that sentiment comes out quieter ,  more hesitant.          ❝ there has to be something i can do. ❞            ...  right ?

grey eyes grow wider and wider as he takes in the sight before him.          ❝ noo ...  ❞            shoulders drop in time with the soft syllable ,  entire body seeming to convey the same sense of despair.     but aang has never been one to give up.   the lapse in determination doesn’t last long :  only a second or two at most.   then shoulders square ,  posture drawing tall and steady.

❝          i’ve     seen     it      𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄      𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒          &.      it      𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑      gets      me      𝙴  𝚅  𝙴  𝚁  𝚈      𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬.          ❞ 

𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞’𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭,     𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐚𝐰𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.     his side was on fire,     wound peppered with that sharp hot pain he associated with magic,     blood staining his tunic.     a shaky hand closes over the injury,     preventing kiki from looking at it as he tilts his head back and exhales.     slowly,     steadily shakily. 

maybe it wasn’t the time for him to be cracking jokes. 

❝    sorry, sorry.    ❞     his head lilts to his shoulder.     he’s starting to feel warm all over.     it makes him itchy,     like he wants to scratch off his skin.     ❝    can we do anything about it  ?    ❞

❝    𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰,    ❞     he starts.     luke was six when a sorcerer made an attempt on his life and failed.     six when his parents decreed magic was banned in his presence.     six when he was pushed into a smaller castle with his own maids and servants and guards to live with until he was eighteen,     and older,     and ready for a crown to sit on his head.     kiki had been his first encounter with magic in twelve years.     ❝    i never really understood what you do here as the court’s witch.     do you cast spells on people  ?  heal them  ?    ❞