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leoniestarlee · 3 months

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Illyrian Assassin (14)

Pairing: Azriel x OC

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning: past trauma, slow burn

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The smell of fresh bread greets my senses as I poke my head around the corner of the outside bakery wall, observing my surroundings for the baker that I know usually cooks at dawn. Only the sight of fresh bread, with steams of heat floating above, catches my eye. My stomach grumbles as my eyes jumps to the blocks of cheese near it, ready to be sold today.

Last night, Cassian and I got into a fight with Rhysand, leading to a vase being broken and none of us eating. Now that left me hungry and with the urge to go back to my old ways before Rhysand’s mother took me in.

The sun rises over the mountains, painting the sky in soft purple's and pink’s while shadows cover our camp. If I don’t move soon, then others will start to wake, and I’ll have to wait till tonight for dinner.

Not a chance that I’m waiting that long to eat again.

I pull the black hood of my cloak over my head and sink further into the shadows against the wall as I look around for any prying eyes. Once I know the coast is clear, I tuck in my wings and lower myself to the ground until my hands and knees are against the muddied ground. Not a sound comes from my movements—thanks to years of this—as I crawl toward the window near the wooden door leading into the bakery.

Two muffled voices sound from inside, and I use that as my advantage to rise to my knees, snatching a hot loaf of fresh bread. The heat of the bread makes me almost drop it, but I hold in my curse and shove the bread into the satchel slung around my shoulder.

“Are you sure it’s a shadowsinger?” One of the females inside asks the other, her question catching me off guard as I freeze.

I can’t help by earsdrop as the other female answers, “Yes! Mother above, he looked frail and sick with those shadows surrounding him.”

“He’s a bastard of one of the camp Lords. We both know how they get treated.”

Against my better judgement, I slowly stood up enough to look into the open window where I can see two Illyrian females. One kneads dough on the counter while the other watches her, her arms crossed across her chest with a disgusted look on her face.

“The High Lord will use that boy,” the one kneading the dough claimed.

I froze, watching them as they continued to make predictions on what will happen to the boy, but my mind can’t accept that there is a shadowsinger in our camp. An actual shadowsinger.

Rarely, did anyone see one, but now? Now even I get the chance to see this shadowsinger boy in real life. I can’t help but feel excited.

A bucket being emptied beside the bakery pulls me out of my excitement and I quickly drop down, hiding back in the shadows as I look around. Only a male is in my view, emptying a few buckets into the mud outside his small home. Must be one of our best warriors to get a stoned house like that.

I silence out the females talking in the bakery as I waited until the male went back inside his house. After a few long, painful minutes, he goes back inside, and I don’t waste any time snatching a fresh block of cheese. The sun rises higher, and the shadows start to slowly disappear as I round the corner, heading back toward my new home that isn’t a piss-poor tent.

“Aurora.”

I halt, my wings feeling heavier against my back as I tuck them in tighter at the powering voice behind me.

“My mother will kill you if she finds out you stole,” Rhysand said, grabbing my shoulder and facing me to him.

I give him an innocent smile, hiding the cheese behind my back as he furrows his brows at me. “But I didn’t steal anything.”

“Seriously?” He raises a brow before grabbing my arm and yanking it from behind my back to reveal the cheese. “I watched you steal it and the bread hidden in your satchel.”

I give up the fake innocence as I glare at him. “You were watching me that whole time? Creep.”

“I—Aurora, I’m not a creep,” he argues, running a hand through his raven-blue hair. “I woke up to Cassian sneaking out and when I noticed you weren’t home, I decided to follow him.”

“Wait what?” I ask him, my brows shooting to the top of my head. “Where the hell is Cass?”

The same surprise as my own covers his features. “You mean to tell me, that you and Cassian haven’t been sneaking out of the house these last few days to be alone in the woods?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?" I ask with a disgusted look at what he's implying.

He doesn’t answer, instead he grabs my hand and starts pulling me past the houses and training rings as I hold the cheese against my chest, not wanting to drop it by accident and waste the minutes I used to steal it.

By the time we’ve made it into the woods, the sun has risen, and the shadows don’t hide us anymore, making me pull down my hood. Rhysand still has a grip on my hand, but I don’t pull away as he pulls me further and further into the woods until even I know no one can hear us.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” I question him.

“Stay quiet,” he whispers, pulling me behind a boulder.

I give him a look, pulling my hand away. “Just because you’re the heir, doesn’t mean you can tell me—”

“Look!” He grabs my chin, forcing me to look over the boulder.

My eyes widen and I swat his hand away as I watch Cassian bark some instructions at a male around our age. The unknown male spreads his wings, looking as if he’s trying to jump into the sky.

“Who is that?” I whisper to Rhysand.

“Some new male in our age group,” he simply answers.

We watch as the male tries to fly but fails miserably and goes face first into the ground, making twigs snap under him as I cringe.

“He can’t fly,” I state.

“What Illyrian doesn’t know how to fly?” he snorts.

I face him, shoving him back. “I can bet that you wouldn’t know how to fly if your mommy didn’t bring you here.”

He sends me a glare, shoving my shoulder. “You only know how to fly because Cassian taught you.”

“And I know how to fight because Cassian taught me that too,” I argue back. “Want an example?”

“Can you two shut up and get over here,” Cassian’s voice booms toward us.

My eyes widen as I stand straight, looking back over at my bastard brother and the male staring at us.

“If you didn’t raise your voice then he wouldn’t’ve heard us,” I hiss at Rhysand, moving around the boulder and toward Cass and the male.

“My shadows told me you were watching,” the male informs me.

I halt next to Cassian, only now noticing the black shadows surrounding the male like a cloak. My lips can’t help but part in amazement at the shadowsinger before me. The same shadowsinger that the females were talking about.

“Holy shit,” Rhysand and I say at the same time, making Cassian snort.

I clear my throat, shoving the block of cheese in Cassian’s chest for him to grab before I walk toward the shadowsinger and extend my hand out to him. “I’m Aurora but call me Rory.”

He hesitates but reaches out, grabbing my hand. I’m quick to hide my shock as I look down at our hands, noticing the ridged swirls of scars that cover his own hand. What happened to him to cause that much scarring?

“Azriel,” he says quietly, snapping my eyes back up to him as he pulls away his hand.

I offer him a small smile with a nod. “No need to hide your scars from us. We’ve all got our own.” I pull up the sleeve of my cloak, revealing the deep silvered scar from my palm, curving around my wrist to my elbow. “I crashed into a tree and nearly tore my arm off,” I explain to him quietly.

“That was a terrifying day,” Cassian mumbles, pulling me back to his side and positioning his body in front of mine.

“I’m Rhysand,” the heir introduces himself with a nod that Azriel returns.

I take the cheese back from Cass, pulling a dagger out from my belt. “I got bread and cheese. Who’s hungry?”

Cassian turns around, raising a brow at me. “You stole that, didn’t you?”

I give him a sheepish smile. “It’s your favortie.”

He snorts, facing back to Azriel. “We’ll eat after we teach Azriel how to fly.”

I shrug my shoulders, offering Azriel a small smile. “Good luck.” I turn around, walking toward a distance tree. “I’ll be stuffing my gob with food while you three exhaust yourselves.”

“Rory! Wake up!” Willa shouted, making my body jolt up right as panic clouded my judgement and my knife that was once under my pillow is now held up.

“What is it?” I quickly asked, nearly tripping over my feet as I stumbled out of bed and into the darkness of my room.

My eyes found Willa standing at the end of my bed with an apologetic look. “Sorry,” she quietly mumbled, putting her hands up. “I couldn’t sleep, and you were talking in your sleep when I came in.”

I sighed, lowering the knife and raising a brow at her. “What have I told you about yelling to wake me up? You know it puts me on alert.”

“I forgot?” she said, but it sounded more like a question as she scratched the back of her neck.

I threw the knife on my bed before picking up my black robe and slipping it on. “Up to the roof?” I asked her, walking around my bed.

“Yes, please,” she whispered, holding a fur coat in her hand. Obviously, she had already planned to go up there before she came into my room.

I gave her a small smile, taking her cold hand in mine as I led her out of my room. “You know, there’s tonic’s you can take to help you sleep,” I offered, walking up the stairs.

“I don’t like tonics,” she grumbled, holding my hand tighter.

I snorted, letting go of her hand and helping her put on her coat as we continued walking toward the roof of the House. “I know, but I’m worried about the lack of sleep you’ve been getting these past few weeks.”

She went quiet, glancing left to right as we took the final few steps leading up to the open roof. I placed a hand on her back as we silently went toward the sparring ring in the middle of the roof.

“I’ll grab the blanket and pillows,” I said to her in a hush tone as she nodded, stepping into the sparring ring.

I walked over to the wooden makeshift walls full of different types of weapons before I found the chest I’d brought up here a few days ago, filled with blanket and pillows for Willa and me. When I’d reached the sparring ring, she was still standing, staring at Velaris below us.

“Are you okay?” I asked her, stepping into the ring and throwing down the blanket first. “You’re more quiet than usual,” I pointed out, dropping the pillows onto the blanket.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted softly, laying down and resting her head against one of the pillows.

I laid down beside her, the ground hard under my back as I looked up at the silver freckles in the dark blue sky above us. There were barely any clouds in the sky, but the moon shined down, illuminating the clouds of smoke that came from my mouth as I softly breathed out.

“Why haven’t you been sleeping?” I questioned her.

She stayed silent for a long moment before turning on her side to look at me while I continued to stare at the sky, patiently waiting for her to answer me.

“I have these dreams, or nightmares, I’m not sure which one it is,” she mumbled, and I turned on my side, tucking my hand under the side of my face against the pillow as I watched her. “It’s always the same thing and it scares me.”

“What is it?”

Her green eyes darted away from me as she tucked her knees to her chest. “It’s Azriel.”

“Azriel?” I took in a sharp breath, my hand resting on her arm before I could stop myself. “Has something happened?” If something had happened, I don’t know what I’ll do.

“Not yet.” She looked back up at me, grabbing my hand as pain and worry filled her eyes. “Something will happen to him. Something…bad.”

“I—Are you sure?” My heart gave out at the thought of something bad happening to Az. At the thought that whatever Willa has seen in her sleep is so terrible that it’s stopping her from sleeping.

She nodded, squeezing my hand. “He’ll get hurt on a mission.”

I stayed silent, not knowing what to say as panic set into my heart, freezing me in place. Azriel goes on a mission at least every two days. But Willa could be wrong. After all, they’re only dreams.

“He’ll be okay,” I assured her, pulling her into my arms. “It’s our Az. He’s been alive for over five hundred years, and nothing can take that shadowsinger down.”

“You don’t understand.” Her voice broke as she grabbed the front of my robe, digging her head into my chest. “It felt so real. It looked so real, Rory.”

“I’m sorry this is keeping you up at night,” is all I can say as I held her tighter, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll talk to Amren and ask her about you dreams, okay?”

“Nothing will help,” she breathed. “Sometimes I see it when I’m awake.”

My heart broke for my sisters’ torture as I placed another kiss on the top of her head. How long had she been dealing with this? How had I not noticed earlier? How do I stop this?

“I’ll figure out a way to help you,” I promised her, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “I hate it when you’re struggling.”

I hate it because this is what I wanted to protect her from. I wanted to protect her and Daisy from struggling, but perhaps I haven’t done enough. Perhaps…I’m not enough to protect them.

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changelingsandothernonsense · 11 months

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Wip Whenever the Day of the Week!

So last week I finished two renders Woo! This week we have two new arts that I'm starting (4 technically but you know, just sharing the personal work) and some writing (I did share this to discord but I'll throw this in here too). Tagged by @paraparadigm @mareenavee and @friend-of-giants

If you wanna do it too then go ahead! Everyone's already shared by the time I get to mine (14 hours ahead, 24 behind XD).

Art First!

Relates to the fic I guess. It's fun, I draw birds! There's a time difference!

The rest is under the cut!

Now for writing.

So I power smashed out a chunk of a chapter from Teldryn's POV yesterday. He's waiting and he's bored and he's in his head, so is someone else. Some of you have already seen it, and some not. There's a fight scene that I'm, in the middle of which I'm not ready to show yet but have this.

The bastards took his keys. Both of them, right from his pack. The bastards just kept coming. The last two weeks had been truly unrelenting. He’d hit Sigrun’s men at the barrow, then near the Telvanni stronghold, some even managed to make it as far south as Fort Frostmoth after that woman from the Netch had cleared the entire place of ash spawn and undead. All by herself too, not a single guard had accompanied her according to Geldis. Though Teldryn was certain the old fool was exaggerating, that place was infested with those disgusting things. They regularly assaulted the Bulwark, each attack taking out more of Veleth’s guardsmen. Teldryn smiled to himself, he had his opinions on their competence, and it wasn’t flattering. He’d told Veleth as much during the last assault and was once again met with the old guard captain’s gruff indifference.

So, she was better than a few guards? Who cares? He did, apparently. He’d been ruminating over their encounter for the last two weeks. He had made an utter fool of himself, completely blew it. Fuck! He actually stole from her! And he didn’t regret it either, she had good shit. Besides, he needed it more than she did… not to mention he was certain she was after him, the whole situation just didn’t add up. Gods, why was he thinking about this? Why did he care?

He fiddled with one of his rings under his gauntlet. The one with the misspelled engraving that he never bothered to have fixed and felt sick to his stomach. Guilty, he still felt guilty after all these years. He wanted to drown that feeling out again, but he couldn’t. Not yet, not when he was supposed to be watching the shore for more of Sigrun’s goons.

He was distracted again, he was always distracted. He wanted to pace, scratch at something, anything to get his mind off of him. Two hundred years and the pain still felt so raw. Does it ever end? He started fiddling with a loose thread on his scarf, unravelling it until a new hole was created. He’d fix it later if he remembered. Probably not. By Azura was he bored! The bastard said that his companions had set up again by Bloodskal Barrow again, but they weren’t there! He wanted that lizard that took his keys! By Boethiah he wanted his head on the end of his sword! His gauntlet caught alight; he was getting angry again. Good. Good. It was better than his perpetual wallowing. He was productive when he was mad, could get shit done! He threw the fireball that had formed at the ashen sand, it solidified under the intense heat. The cracking sound was awful but it was something.

He can’t sit still. His head felt itchy, and he ran a gauntleted hand through his hair. He needed to cut it, or at least shave the sides down again. He didn’t have his things. He needed his things!

Fuck where were they? Teldryn lay back hard, causing a small bloom of ash to raise around him. His hair fell in his eyes and he lazily brushed it aside. He stared up at the sky, it was now well past sundown, an aurora danced above, its green and violet symphony drowning out the stars. It was almost romantic if he would allow himself to think of such things. A bad idea.

So he tried to clear his mind and concentrated on the light lapping of waves on the shore. Those distant groans of netches further down the beach, the soft sound of booted footprints in the ashen sands.

Teldryn sat up to get a better look around, he could make out a figure about half a klick downwind of his position. Bonemold, one of Veleth’s boys on patrol? No, he’s too far away from town. He watched the lone guard as he sauntered along the shore. The guard sat on a log, his back facing Teldryn and pulled something out of a small sack that he couldn’t quite see. Food? Most likely. Teldryn felt his stomach growl and he fell back onto the sand. He’d forgotten to eat today, didn’t he? It was a habit he’d developed a long time ago. Easy when everything tastes like the ash of Red Mountain was swirled in a salty brine. It no longer brought him any joy. Still, his mouth watered. If those bastards didn’t show up soon he’d have to go bother Geldis again. He was out of food, he’d been out of sujamma for days as well. Gods was he craving that! Anything that could drown him out really. His fingertips itched and he pulled off his gauntlet with his teeth. It was that fucking ring again! It was too tight. It was never meant for him. It was his. He couldn’t get rid of it! By Azura had he tried, it was a part of him now. He should never have put it on! He held the ornate shape of it between his front teeth and gave it a light tug, relieving some of the pressure.

“Stop it!” “No, you parasitic fuck!” Teldryn growled under his breath. He tugged again. “That won’t work.” “Try me!” he growled, yanking at it harder this time. The force hurt his teeth. “Quit your incessant whining and listen.”

Teldryn stopped for a moment and listened. Chattering, no, no yelling! He glanced over towards the spot that guard should have been. He was on the ground, surrounded by three heavily armoured Nords, one pulling the sword from the guard’s back, but was unable to make it budge. Teldryn snorted, idiots. You stick a sword in that part of the armour and you’ll lose it. It was a quirk of design that he never quite understood, though it had been explained to him often enough.

“To your right.” Teldryn moved his gaze away from the guard and towards the Barrow. A boat and several more armoured men hauling gear out of it.

Oh, it’s on!

Teldryn grinned wickedly and sprang to his feet. He pulled his discarded gauntlet back on and threw on his helmet, scarf and goggles hastily, he was itching for another fight!

#wip games #tag games #weekly wipings #My art #serious mistakes #teldryn sero #sydari aralen #skyrim #dunmer

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artbivch · 2 years

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hee hee, accidentally tabbed out and lost the original chain I was following but found this bad boy by baeby-tc

1. describe your tc’s physical appearance.

As tall as me-ish, blonde, white but that slightly tanned white from going outside a lot.

2. What was the first thing you’ve ever said to your tc?

Probably “Here”

3. is your tc single or taken? or are you unsure? and are you single or taken?

Single afaik. I wish I was single sometimes, but I’m not about to break up with anyone for a crush

4. is your tc more of the athletic type, the nerdy type or the artsy type?

A little bit of all without being a lot of any. I know some nerd things about him, and he likes the outdoors, but he doesn’t seem to be super in shape and he’s not as artsy as some of the faculty—thank god

5. if you and your tc were in high school together, do you think you’d be friends?

Maybe? I’m pretty good at befriending randos who are lonely and introverted, but I have to be put in a class with them first. If we took art together then it’s possible.

6. name one song that reminds you of your tc and explain why that song reminds you of them.

Rufus Wainwright “The Art Teacher”

Need I say more?

7. is your tc fashionable or are they more of the simple type? what is one outfit you’d love to see them wear?

He wears plaid button downs with a t shirt underneath almost exclusively. I wish he’d wear more formal wear sometimes but

8. would you be willing to become a teacher and teach your tc’s subject if it meant you two could be together?

Oh absolutely, before the revenge of the crush on him, I was actually in a dual major program of art and education. I dropped the education part halfway through because I decided I don’t want to go straight into teaching when I graduate. I want to be able to explore the world and not be shackled back into the public school system right out of the gate. But also I would accept a TA position in a heartbeat

9. does your tc drink or smoke?

Don’t know about smoking or how much he drinks, but he had a beer or a cider of some sort once.

10. name one item that is always on your tc’s desk.

I haven’t seen his desk because the bastard’s never in his office, but he usually has a pencil behind his ear.

11. has your tc ever done anything that has either thrown you off, annoyed you, angered you or bothered you in any way? if so, what did they do?

He has absolutely no control over the students in the studio and what’s worse is the student he tends to hover over because he’s one of those annoying “oh I’ve never drawn before but I’m basically a prodigy out of nowhere” people. I’m not even mad at the guy for being a favorite I’m just annoyed at the fact he has the audacity to make some of the most photo realistic art within a few hours max and then leaves the studio a mess. I want to clobber this guy but I know I’d immediately get on the bad side of my tc.

The kid deserves my foot up his ass tho

12. does your tc have any past jobs that you know of, before becoming a teacher?

No clue. He doesn’t talk much without being prompted and I’m too anxious to pry out those details without being worried he’d immediately notice how desperate I am

13. does your tc have kids or siblings? if so, how many?

Pretty sure no to kids, but yes to siblings? I think he has a brother.

14. are you taking your tc’s class next year?

Yep! He’ll be my teacher for the full year and I’m gonna try to slip into his summer course post-graduation

15. has your tc ever met your parents? if you were there, what was the meeting like?

Nope and unless fantasy casually breaks into reality, hopefully he never will.

16. has your tc ever given you detention? if so, what was it like?

no but he did once tell me I was using too much of the cleaner undiluted and four months later I still feel bad about it because it espensive ;-;

17. has your tc ever failed you? if so, how did you react? if not, how would you react?

This feels a little dramatic, I think the worst it’s been is I had to wait an hour and a half for him to show up in a van so I could get my camping supplies out.

18. what are your tc’s hobbies/interests? are they similar to yours?

He seems to enjoy physical arts (he made a comment once about why do digital art when you’ve got a pen and paper lmao), which I’m more of a fan of too. He also seems to be outdoorsy and a fan of nature, which I tend to admire from afar. But also I’m not one to hike alone so I don’t know if I’d be more into it with someone

19. have you ever spoken on the phone with your tc? what did you talk about?

no but I harassed him for taking his sweet time when he told me I had to rush to the meeting site if I wanted my camping stuff back

20. if you had your tc’s class during quarantine, what were your zoom calls like? if not, have you spoken to your tc since quarantine?

I didn’t have him during quarantine, but I’ve been in a group zoom call with him. A second teacher led pretty much all of the discussion and he just sorta stared at things behind the screen like a squirrel

21. if you had the chance to go anywhere in the world with your tc, where would you go? what would you do?

We talkin fantasy or somewhat reality? Fantasy we goin’ to some cool foreign city and banging. Reality, I think I’d just like to go on another camping trip, except this time with maybe a few less people

22. does your tc have any nicknames for you?

No but he used to use my high school nickname because he thought it was funny when I told him. When he remembered the nickname (because there was a three year hiatus where I didn’t have him we’d just sometimes run into each other) he laughed at it again. It’s a pretty fun nickname lol

23. have you ever cried in front of your tc? why? how did they react?

No which is surprising because I cried today after seeing a really cute bee video

24. have you ever walked/drove to/from school with your tc?

No but I’ve recently learned we live within a few blocks of each other so *fingers crossed*

25. do you know which teachers your tc is friends with at school? if so, do you like those teachers?

I’ve seen him interact with some teachers and I know he’s friends with one that although I haven’t had him he seems rad. The other teachers are ones that are either pretty okay or ones that my friends have had and either 100% hated/loved with no in between. So that’s interesting. He seemed to idolize the teacher who was the old head of the department he shifted to like I did so we have that in common (although I had the privilege of learning under the old teacher for a couple years which was dope)

26. what does your tc’s voice sound like?

A little raspy. Not like smoker raspy, just like, aged.

27. do you like your tc as a teacher? are they a good teacher?

He’s not the most influential teacher I’ve had, but I really enjoy his style and methods. Plus he genuinely cares about the students even though he’s too introverted to show it most of the time.

28. does your tc prefer books, shows or movies?

Don’t know, he seems like a book guy and older media person

29. is your tc stern or easy going, in class?

Easy going to a fault. It’s great until people take advantage of it.

30. how would you describe you and your tc’s relationship?

Friendly, hopefully maybe even peers to an extent when I graduate? I’m super bad at keeping in touch so it’d rely on me involving myself in the community more and hoping we run into each other oops

31. do you address your tc by their first or last name?

First name, but everyone calls him by that

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smhalltheurlsaretaken · 3 years

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Do you have any criticisms of the Jedi order or the Jedi? Like I love them and all but the whole padawans during war was kind of iffy even if sw universe doesn’t really have the same concepts of adulthood. Idk. Even though Padme is supposed to be 14 in tpm, I guess it doesn’t hit as hard because she doesn’t look 14 umm

Ah, that’s a very interesting question with an interesting answer. Yes and no.

Yes, I do have criticisms of the Order in the sense that I recognize that they’re not perfect - thankfully! They’re not perfect, they’re not meant to be perfect, they never pretend to be perfect, and I don’t expect them to try to be perfect. And it’s a good thing too, because perfection would make the Jedi into these lofty, shiny beings, elven-like, ‘untouched by the sorrows and sins of men,’ yadda yadda yadda. And while that’s often what the fandom criticizes them for, that’s decidedly not how they’re characterized. They’re all in all very down to earth.

So yeah: sending teenagers into war sucked (even though yes - multiple arguments can be made in universe (the skills and maturity of the Padawans, for example) and out of universe (the need to have relatable characters for the young audience) to justify it. Still, it sucked).

Some of the choices they made during the war were probably wrong. As Yoda said: the right path, no. The only path, yes.

Some of the Jedi were stubborn bastards, like Qui-Gon. Some were kinda intimidating and a bit cold. Some weren’t really people persons, like Mace. Some took a great deal of pride into their work, maybe too much, like Jocasta. Some lost their way, like Dooku, Krell, Barriss or the Inquisitors, and they did horrible things. Some were slightly insane and probably a bit morally questionable, like Quinlan on any given day.

The Jedi weren’t monolithic, so of course I’ll criticize them individually. Now onto the “no” part of the answer...

I’ll explore the Jedi’s flaws when I write, but I’ll always, always, always talk about how good they were a lot, lot, LOT more. And the reason why is quite simple: I feel like Jedi criticism is nitpicky and pointless, because talking about any flaws of theirs is not only beating a dead horse, but beating a horse that’s so dead it’s been decomposing for fifteen years.

Everything has been said on the subject of the Jedi’s faults - most of which I don’t agree with, but some that I’ll readily recognize (because again, they’re not meant to be perfect). But what is the point of talking about what the Jedi did wrong after a while? Even supposing they were half as flawed as the fandom makes them out to be (which they aren’t) so what? They all died. Their children died. Their history, art and philosophy were completely erased from the galaxy. Most of their legacy was forgotten.

Whatever punishment they might have deserved for not paying enough attention - or too much - to a prophecy, for failing to untangle Sidious’ web, for being blind to a lie or another when they were too busy dying on the front lines to see clearly, for failing to save all the clones, for failing to protect all the Padawans... Whatever punishment this all deserved, they received a hundred times over.

And beyond that, I firmly believe that the compassion, bravery, love they displayed consistently throughout the war and before far outweighs any systemic of individual fault. I won’t go over why their philosophy on attachment, balance, self-control and the like were very much meant to be seen as good things in universe - just look through the billion metas on the subject on my blog or the blogs I follow, and the quotes by Lucas validating Jedi teachings that go with those metas - but even overlooking the fact that they were right narratively speaking, they were still amazing.

They loved their men, they loved their Padawans, and they were so kind, as we saw time and time again. They were badass space wizards who devoted themselves to complete altruism instead of seeking personal gain through their magic powers. Who does that? They could harness the very essence and fabric of the actual universe and they spent their days running around trying to fix other people’s problems and getting blamed for not fixing them all. They were affectionate with each other (and yes, that’s easily demonstrable with like a few hundred captures of casual physical contact and caring words) and they even extended their compassion to their enemies - scumbags like Maul and fricking Hondo. I just love them so much.

So, yes and no. Yes, as in it’d be pretty boring and wrong to see the Jedi as perfect. No, as in the good they did and strived to do makes any serious criticism that I have almost irrelevant, and it’s the good that I focus on.

#ask #anonymous #making my way through my 30 something asks lol #jedi order #meta #my meta

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sitp-recs · 3 years

Text

First line game

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20 stories, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors. If you’re seeing this, YOU are tagged!

I was tagged by the lovelies @the-starryknight and @tackytigerfic and while I’m very flattered that they thought my recs somehow deserved to feature on this mighty thread, I could not pass the opportunity to celebrate these works some more, so I cheated a little bit and decided to make it about the quotes I chose to illustrate my last 20 recs. Hope that’s okay :)

As for my favorite opening line from one of my own recs, I gotta go with “Haters will say I gave this fic the big spot because it was written for my birthday... and they would be right”. This was written for Tacky’s Collapsed in Love, that I recced on Valentine’s Day ❤️

1) The Snitch-Maker by Omi_Ohmy:

He understood then that he’d thought of Potter as hero for years. An ache twisted through him, and he wasn’t sure it was for himself, or Potter. Or maybe for everyone who’d lived through those awful years.

2) Unfinished Business by cupiscent:

He'd looked up with those haunted eyes, and Draco had almost faltered in that moment, even after he'd thought himself resolved. He'd known that Potter. Mocked him, challenged him, hated him - but known him. This icon on stage was a stranger.

3) Like Gold by @the-sinking-ship:

Draco grinned so wide his cheeks ached and he practically ran the rest of the way. He snagged the matching black helmet off the seat and jammed it over his head, as he’d done a hundred times before.

4) Absurd by Blowfish_Diaries:

“I’d do anything for you, Harry.” I used to hate how easily he drew these sorts of blunt, honest confessions from me, but I’ve made my peace with it.

5) On the Balcony by @firethesound:

“I’m trying to be romantic.”

“You’re trying to get your hand on my cock.”

“Is there a difference?” Draco asked. He ate another bite of custard, practically fellating his spoon in the process.

6) A Hyperactive Fruit, a Nasty Neighbour and a Love Story by synonym4life:

A top that looked as if a homeless person had worn it, threw it away (because even homeless people had standards), and then another homeless person took the rag from a bin for his dog to lie on, threw it away as well (because even dogs had standards), and only then did Potter pick it out from the trash and decided it was as good a garment as any to wear to the Ministry.

7) Collapsed in Love by @tackytigerfic:

He worries about Teddy all the time, especially since he started school, and Teddy, who’s been loved all his life and is confident that he always will be, has no compunction about being a little shit to the people who care about him. And Harry cares about him the most.

8) Our Ordinary Days by Lomonaaeren:

And the greater life, the greater spirit, running through his body as though through his veins? Draco liked to think that came from all of them, Harry and himself and Teddy and even the Weasleys.

9) Student Digs by Lokifan:

He gave me a sharp look and I felt myself wither. Not because of Harry’s expression, exactly; but because I’ve spent a lot of time over the last few years putting up with things because I was helpless to change them.

10) Misguided at Best by agentmoppet:

“What was that?” Draco asks, because he's a bastard, and because it's his role to give Potter what he wants, and Potter wants to beg.

11) A Charitable Christmas by Alisanne:

Throwing his head back, Malfoy laughed. “So,” he said once he’d sobered, “it seems we both have stories to either prove or debunk.” Draining his glass once more, he stood up. “Well? Shall we?”

12) Exiled by A_factorygirl_69:

"I miss England," Draco said, crossing his arms and stubbornly staring out the glass. "Doesn't usually rain here. Not like it does at home—England, I mean." Draco said 'England' much louder the second time, trying to cover up the word he said before it.

13) Cold Like Fire by @queenofthyme:

“Auror Potter” Draco said - how Harry hated being called that - “I’m not about to tuck serviettes down my shirt and eat with my hands just because it suits some absurd purpose of yours.”

14) Day Shift on Diagon by @prolix-:

Draco comes to realise that he had fallen for a caricature of the man. As a barista, Harry was uncomplicated, quiet and unfailingly kind. Faultless but flat. It's a joy, learning just how complicated the man really is.

15) The Art of Seduction by playout:

If letting Draco take him to the dance floor had been a Very Bad Idea, Harry fisting his hands in Draco's shirt hard enough to tear it in two and snogging him with the ferocity of several years' worth of pent up sexual frustration and chronic vexation was a colossally bad one.

16) Autumn Drarry Drabbles by @peachpety: this is actually a collection I recced on a collab with @thedrarrylibrarian, but if I had to choose only 1 (one) quote it would be this one from her drabble #12 - Manor House No.7:

Draco holds his gaze, absorbing the sunshine smell of him, like happiness and contentment. The terrifying pull in his gut takes hold, opposing magnetic poles attracting, urging him to reach out and capture him, to click perfectly into place. The moment expands, a pause at the end of an exhale, lungs empty and still.

17) Of toenail clippings and designer underwear by @andithiel:

“I just… I like your hair a little messier,” he added quietly, as he shrank into his book, unable to help himself.

18) Big Hands by @fw00shy:

Draco thought about those colossal hands delicately making their way through his piece, and wanted with such an intensity that he nearly collapsed over the piano bench.

19) Voices from the Fog by @noeeon:

“How are you going to find out what either of us wants if you don’t stay?”

20) Special Edition by Leela:

Years of hard work to restore the Malfoy name and he'd tossed it away for what? His stomach began to roil as another memory swam into focus, of him kissing Potter, of Potter kissing him. His hand shook, spilling lukewarm coffee over his skin.

#first line game #tag meme

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emilia3546 · 3 years

Text

Shadowsinger Part 16 - Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter*

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

*****

Maddy was practically dancing with joy when Azriel's shadows cleared and she spotted a head of auburn hair beside him,

"You brought her!" She squealed, then calmed herself down, just long enough to make sure Azriel wasn't an impostor, "The stars are bright tonight."

"They shine with the moon." Gwyn narrowed her eyes, and Azriel chuckled, "It's a code, only Maddy and I know it, and now you, it's to ensure that neither of us is compromised." Gwyn nodded, and glanced around the clearing, "It's just us, I meet them one on one, some don't know the others' identities, Maddy does, but she's my second."

"Okay," Gwyn nodded, and turned her attention to Maddy, "You were at the Hewn City, is that where you work?" Maddy shrugged,

"At the moment, but I can get into pretty much anywhere, although I'm not usually a 'guard' I was lucky that no-one noticed me last time." Azriel huffed in agreement, and Gwyn raised an eyebrow at him, "He thinks I'm reckless."

"Azriel said that?" Gwyn nudged him in the ribs, "You're one to talk!"

"Moving on," he muttered, rolling his eyes as both females lapsed into giggles, "Cauldron spare me," he mumbled, waiting for Gwyn at least to stop to breathe, "Maddy, c'mon, shut up." She snorted once more, but she did mange to quieten down, laughter still dancing in her eyes as she looked between Azriel and Gwyn. She was calm, relaxed, still alert, but she grinned at Gwyn as Azriel explained their position, and she smiled back, oh she could definitely get on with this.

"I'll keep an eye on Keir, I wouldn't put it past him to try and stab you in the back with the darkbringers."

"Neither would I," Azriel's eyes were dark, his face near-unreadable as he spoke, "I've contacted those I can on the continent, but I want you on standby to head over there if we need." Maddy nodded,

"What's Gwyn's role in this?"

"I'm helping Az with plans and communication, and I'm backup, I'm not planning on going into the field, if I fight, it'll be with my sisters,"

"You have sisters?"

"I had one, a long time ago, but I meant Nesta and Emerie, if it comes to fighting, I'll fight with them and the Valkyries." Shadows gathered around her at the mention of Catrin, and she could almost sense Azriel's worry for a moment before she smiled again. Once Azriel had finished with his list of discussions, Maddy grinned at Gwyn again, and pulled her aside,

"I thought he'd never bring you along." She whispered, "He's such an idiot, he seems to think we might scare you off."

"He is an idiot," Gwyn glanced around to check that he wasn't listening, "But he's my idiot. And I'll be coming along all the time now, he was just waiting for me to ask, to say that I wanted to come." She offered Maddy another grin before crossing back to Azriel, and gripping his hand,

"Gossiping about me?" He chuckled, but before Gwyn could deny it, wind was rushing in her ears as he winnowed home. Gwyn stumbled on landing again, but kept her feet, somehow it was easier than when Rhys had winnowed her before,

"Az, why is it different when you winnow than Rhys? Isn't it the same?"

"Actually, no, I sort of shadow-winnow I guess, it's not true winnowing, so it different than when someone who can properly winnow does it, but I prefer it. I don't like it when Rhys winnows me anywhere, it's weird." Gwyn snorted,

"I know what you mean, it's disorientating, but you're not much better."

"Azzy? is Gwyn with you?" Gwyn stepped around Azriel, and grinned as she saw Theia stepping out of the house,

"Oh, good, I just got a rather worrying letter from a friend, from Ironcrest." Gwyn didn't notice herself grasping Azriel's hand, didn't notice the way she looked across at him, unconsciously willing him to relax,

It'll be okay, we'll fix it, whatever it is. Breathe. There was no way he could hear the words, but she thought them anyway, and he did seem to calm,

"Let's go inside," Gwyn muttered, following Theia towards the downstairs office, leading Azriel behind her, rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hands, and smiled when he stared down at where their hands joined. She could almost hear the thoughts running through his mind at that moment, so she gently lifted his hands, and softly pressed her lips against them, "These hands saved me, Az, you have nothing to be ashamed of." She whispered before finally going inside.

"Apparently Ironcrest is split down the middle, those who stayed, who are loyal, and those whose families have gone, who are accused of being rebels, I don't know if they all are or not, but she's worried that a civil war might break out if nothing is done."

"But the rebels themselves aren't back?" Azriel's voice was still strained, worried, but he still managed to keep a air of calm around him,

"No, it's just their families, wives and children, they're being threatened and picked on, I don't know what you can do about that, though."

"We can certainly do something, I'll head over there now," Gwyn nodded,

"Let me just grab something for my hair, I'll be right back,"

"No, I'd like you stay here, Gwyn,"

"What? But-"

"It's sounds really unstable, you'll be a walking target for both sides, just let me go and check it out so I know what we're dealing with." She could push him, could force him to let her go, but it would only upset him, and her being there probably wasn't necessary, especially if he needed to be unseen, it was easier to hide alone. She sighed,

"Just be careful, and be back as soon as you can."

"Thank you." He leaned down to kiss her quickly before slipping away, with Gwyn's gaze following after him as far as she could see him. She started at Theia's hand on her shoulder,

"He'll be fine, he's our Azzy." Gwyn huffed, but stayed staring after him,

"I do worry about him. Especially at the moment, he still thinks I'll see this other side of him and leave, that his family will leave him, and he'll be on his own again. He doesn't quite understand that he can't scare me off." She finally turned to Theia, and found only understanding and hope in the female's face, "I don't know what to tell him to make him see that. War is horrible, but he's not, he's not, and he won't see that, he thinks he's irredeemable because of how he's been forced to survive," tears filled her eyes as she spoke, "And it hurts to see him thinking things like that, knowing that I can't make it go away, that I can't help him."

"You do help him. You should have seen him before he met you. You've brought him to life, and you've made them love you too," she gestured to the shadows hiding in the corner,

"Get over here, you busybodies," Gwyn chuckled, and laughed as they raced around her,

"Just tell him how you feel, all you have to do is be there, show him that he can't push you away, that you'll still be there through difficulties. It will take time for him to realize, for him to believe that he deserves you, but all you have to do is show him every day how much you love him." She chuckled at Gwyn's widened eyes, "It's so obvious, even if neither of you will admit it, just make sure you've got a contraceptive tonic," she joked,

"Oh, we're not, I mean, I don't think I can, not that I don't love him, and he's so gorgeous, but I just can't." Gwyn clapped a hand over her mouth, "I'm sorry, I just," she broke off at the tears in Theia's eyes as she closed the distance between them and cupped Gwyn's face in her hands,

"You can always talk to me."

"Thank you, I think I'll get there, but for now I'm still a bit scared, but less every day."

"We all are initially," We? Gwyn blinked her surprise, "Azriel thinks he was the product of an affair, and he's half-right, but I didn't have the heart to tell him the truth." Theia drew in a deep breath, and Gwyn waited, letting her gather her thoughts, speak in her own time. "It wasn't quite an affair, Azzy's father took what he could, but he couldn't take my heart, my courage, my love for my son, and whoever it was cannot take that from you. You are stronger than what happened, and it will take time, but when you want to make that choice, whenever it is, whether that is tomorrow or a hundred years from now, Azriel will be waiting for you, he will always wait for your choice." Gwyn smiled as she recalled his face when she had first kissed him,

"I know."

*****

It was difficult to hide in broad daylight, difficult but not impossible, and Azriel settled into a spot by the training pitch, almost wincing as one particular boy was beaten down again and again, insults spat at him, and it took all of Azriel's self control not to leap to his aid. He wasn't seeing that boy in that moment, all he could see was Cassian, remember the tears that he refused to allow to fall every time he took a fight for Azriel, every time Rhys' mother had to clean him up, every time the instructors punished him for something that wasn't his fault. Every jab from the other boys had him struggling not to squirm, their words were so similar to those old insults,

"Traitor," Bastard

"liar," Bastard

"Rebel," Bastard

"Where's Daddy gone?" That one hit home, and Azriel squeezed his eyes shut to avoid moving, only opening them at the sound of another voice

"Daddy's a traitor," Mommy's a whore. Neither of them had known what that had meant the first time it had been spat at them, both of them, but it was always Cassian who took the brunt of the insults, the beatings. And it was always Cassian who had sought the approval he had never been allowed to have from Illyria, and the way certain lords looked at him still made Azriel's stomach turn, made him want to punch their teeth in, but Cassian could fight his own battles, Cauldron knew he'd had to. The boy on the pitch shouted for the others to stop when he fell again,

"Daddy can't protect you now, little traitor." Azriel's heart bled for the boy, covered in mud, struggling to stand. He screamed when someone twisted his wing, and tried to crawl backwards away from them, but found himself crashing into someone's boots,

"Watch yourself, boy." The warrior shoved him back towards the other boys, and he fell straight back into the mud at their feet, curling into a ball to protect himself, sobbing at every hit. Azriel couldn't take it any more, and he cursed himself as he moved, crossing the pitch, ignoring every questioning glance, but he couldn't just watch,

"Hey! That's enough, leave him alone, can't you see he's down?"

"He's a traitor."

"Is he? And who decided that, you?"

"His father's gone with all the others."

"So? We do not judge the son by the sins of the father," Azriel spat as he helped the boy to his feet, catching him when he swayed on his feet and lifted him into his arms, "You lot are banned from training for a week. Understand?" They quickly nodded,

"Yes, Sir, sorry." They certainly knew who he was then, and the boy in his arms shifted and groaned in pain,

"It's alright, son, I've got you, can you tell where your mom lives?" He muttered an address just loud enough for Azriel to hear before his eyes rolled back in his head and flickered closed. The only signs of life were the slight rise and fall of his chest, and the sound of his breathing. Azriel nodded to the warriors across the pitch, and glared at the male who'd encouraged the bullies,

You and me, anytime. The other male dipped his head, breaking eye contact, and stepped away from Azriel, still glancing over his shoulder long after Azriel had left the pitch. There were clear signs of unrest as he walked through the town, some shops were empty, others full, others smashed to pieces, some houses too. He took a breath before knocking on the door that the boy had said was his mother's, and tried to offer a reassuring smile when a small female opened the door, cringing away from him when she recognized him,

"I haven't done anything wrong," she whispered, dropping her gaze to the floor,

"I know," she glanced back up, and gasped when she saw her son in his arms,

"Oh gods, what happened to him? Is he okay?"

"I think he will be. Some of the others took it upon themselves to single him out as his father's vanished with the rebels."

"Please, my husband is not a rebel, there's been some sort of mistake." She shook her head again and again as she gathered a bowl of water to clean her son up. "I don't know where he's gone, but he's not a rebel, please, I sent a letter, to, to your mother, you have to believe me, please."

"I do believe you, " Azriel said quietly, "I'm not here to question you, I'm here because I couldn't watch him get hurt any more, but I do need to understand the situation here, what more can you tell me?"

"I don't know a lot, the males clam up whenever a female is around, they don't stop us training, but they won't talk about the coming war, the rebels, or anything important around us, I've only heard a few things that I wasn't supposed to hear."

"Those are always the most useful things. Anything you have is great,"

"I suspect you already know that the rebels, and their sympathizers have gone, I don't know where, but there's been a lot of tension between loyalists and those left behind." She swallowed, and handed Azriel a cloth to hold while she went to fetch he healing kit, and she started in surprise when he started to help cleaning the mud off her son, "I've never met a male who'd help with anything like that," she whispered,

"You can't have met many decent males then,"

"No, I live in Ironcrest, I took the best there was, and I do love him, but he's still under the pressure from the others, the assholes, so he doesn't do any chores or anything, but he will sometimes cook for me, mostly if I've had a long day."

"It'll get there, one male at a time, it'll get there. You can help, raise your son to be a good male,"

"Will he come back? My husband? I didn't hear anything from him, one day he was here, and the next when I got back from fetching Callum from training, he was gone. No-one will buy my clothes any more, they say he's a disgrace, even my father looks the other way when I pass him on the street. My mother has been slipping me money, but I'm scared my father will notice, I can't survive without it, but if he catches her," she didn't need to finish her sentence for Azriel to know what she meant. "I know it's the same for others, some have brothers or sons that can still help, but anyone who doesn't, they won't accept our work, I used to be known as the best seamstress in Ironcrest, now nobody will buy my work, they say it's tainted with betrayal." Tears welled in her eyes, "And every day, Callum comes back with more bruises, I know sometimes getting a few little injuries are a part of training, but it's worse than ever before, I worry that one day they'll kill him,"

"I won't let that happen," Azriel swore, "I'll get back to Velaris, and we'll figure something out, thank you, write to my mother if you need anything else, or if there's anything else that happens,"

"Of course, thank you, Azriel." He nodded before slipping back outside, waiting for her back to be turned before leaving a little pouch of coins on the side, vanishing before she could turn back to see it.

*****

With Azriel gone, all Gwyn could do was find Nesta and Emerie, organize the Valkyrie trainees they already had, and plan for training the Illyrian females. There were some who had done some training, mostly youngsters, but Gwyn would never consider putting children in harm's way, never. Nesta huffed when they finally finished the numbers,

"We only have thirty priestesses, and only fourteen who could possibly fight, but fewer who would actually do it." She muttered, "And Illyria, what was it, Em, about a hundred?"

"Yes, that have already had some training, but we should have time to get some intensive training set up, we can gather those who wish to fight into a new, temporary camp perhaps, get some of those more agreeable males to help training them, I doubt Az and Cass will be able to get over there often, we might be able to be there a bit more though." Gwyn nodded,

"If what Theia said is happening is widespread, we may need to move some families for now anyway, are Rhys and Feyre back?"

"I don't think so," Nesta said, "Feyre said she'd let me know when they got home, they're still inspecting the darkbringers as far as I know." She tried to hide it, but Gwyn couldn't miss the flash of worry in Nesta's eyes, and she smiled encouragingly at her, laughing when her head snapped sideways, to the doorway, to the crying. Cassian immediately handed Nyx to his mate,

"I don't know how to stop him crying," he admitted, and Nesta gently rocked him in her arms, crooning softly to the child, and he quietened for a moment, but wailed again, and Gwyn whispered for the shadows around her to go play with him. He screamed in delight when one of them tickled him, grabbing out at them, and giggling in delight. Gwyn smiled, and jolted at a gentle elbow in the ribs from Emerie,

"I didn't know you could control them," she muttered,

"Not as well as Az can, but they like me apparently, so they listen. It's been pretty recent though, they used to just be sort of fascinated with me, and now they occasionally whisper to me, I can't properly understand them, but sometimes I get a couple of words, or a feeling or something," Emerie raised an eyebrow, "You don't believe me!"

"I do believe you, I just think it's funny,"

"Oh shush," she muttered, "Stop that,"

"Stop what?"

"Looking at me like that,"

"Like what?" Emerie asked innocently,

"Like you're expecting some sort of grand reveal, you've been reading too many books," Emerie just chuckled and turned back to Nesta with Nyx, her face softening when her gaze landed on the sleeping baby. Emerie wasn't right for expecting some big declaration, Theia had said it was obvious, did Azriel know? Oh gods, she had to talk to him, it was getting dark, surely he would be home soon. At her worry and sudden confusion, the shadows darted back across to her, hiding her from view, and Gwyn swatted them away, mumbling that they were busybodies, but she did love them really, she loved more than just them. No matter how she tried to ignore it, to convince herself that it wasn't happening, she had to admit, she'd been falling for a long time now. Apparently so had Azriel and she wasn't going to run away any more, she loved him, and she wanted to make that choice, she wanted him, just him, for the rest of her life, and for some reason that thought didn't scare her any more.

#fanfiction #fanfic #Gwyn #Gwyn acosf #gwyneth berdara #gwynriel #azriel x gwyn #Azriel #Azwyn #acotar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames

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known-as-naya · 3 years

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What’s your favourite thing about the Klebekah dynamic and your fave scenes? What was it that drew you to them

Thanks Yuki for asking this, it took me hours to think of all my fav scenes but it was worth it lol ❤️

My fav thing about the klebekah dynamic:

So, klebekah. I simply love them if it isn't obvious by now lmao, their codependent and dysfunctional toxic relationship fascinates me so much. They're litteraly the most important person in each other's life and I love that, I love how they understand one another with just a look, I love how they never gave up on each other for a thousand years despite all the betrayals, I love how they adore and worship one another, I LOVE THEM.

Rebekah was the person klaus loved the most in the world (besides hope ofc) it's actually funny how most of the fandom doesn't realize the impact she always had on him, she was his humanity for a thousand years, she was his constant (along with Elijah ) and he was hers, and as we saw on the show Rebekah was the person he showed affection the most.

As for rebekah, Klaus was the man she ADORED since she was a little girl, he was her big brother, the person she wanted to be like when she gets older, her protector, soulmate and best friend. Rebekah was the only person who never actually tried to change him, she loved him as he is during a thousand years and I LOVE THAT.

-The thing that drawn me to them:

Are a lot of things but THE CHEMISTRY was what made me fall in love, fun fact: but the first time I discovered klebekah I was watching a tvd scene on YouTube a couple of years ago and coincidentally it was their 3×03 Chicago flashback scene with Stefan, and I thought they were a sort of threesome of something lmao and when I knew they were siblings I was shocked but continued to ship them anyway cause why not.

What are your fav scenes ?

Oh boy, this is a very DIFFICULT question cause I practically love all their freaking scenes, but I eventually have to choose so there you go:

-I'll begin with tvd:

-There's 3×03, of course, THIS WHOLE EPISODE IS FULL OF INCEST. the "I'm not your girlfriend", the "choose him or me" Klaus' jealousy, the eye sex, the daggering session, the hand holding, EVERYTHING SCREAMED KLEBEKAH. This ep was such a strong introduction to their strange dynamic.

-3×04: my fav thing about this ep is Klaus taking rebekah to shop and being a child about it. He was so done with her already but at the same time so happy to have her around again. I loved the surprised expression on Stefan's face the whole time, he was not used to this side of Klaus, he was not used to Klaus being wrapped around someone's little finger. I loved their little conversation when she was trying that dress and she said something about women in the 21th century dressing like prostitues and that she got dirty looks for wearing trousers and then Klaus said you wore trousers so women today could wear nothing. Lmaooo it was hilarious.

- 3×15: "I hated you when I learned that you killed our mother but after a thousand years together as a family you're the only one who never left me "

" Aren't we a pair ?" THIS MF LINE GETS ME EVERYTIME. I don't have words to describe what it does to me but I love this scene and the fact that Klaus thought that rebekah was going to show him her torturer's skills makes it better.

-3×18: " you destroyed our family" "I wanted a family they just didn't want me, and now that we're unlinked we're no longer responsible for each other" "so are you leaving ?" "As soon as a get my stakes I'm gone..... I'm gonna make a NEW FAMILY of hybrids" "and if I choose to stay ?" "Then you're just as pathetic as Finn " THIS WHOLE scene was a masterpiece, them looking at each other like that makes me wanna give them a hug:

-3×20: it wasn't really a klebekah scene cause it was Esther in Rebekah's body but the way Klaus smiled at her and agreed to go to the dance JUST for her melt my heart.

-3×22: oh gosh this one, breaks my heart but love it so much " how dare you save Caroline over me ?" " You left me !" "it's always been me, not Finn not Elijah no Kol ME, I LOVED YOU through everything and you don't even care " and then he chokes her and say something he -IM SURE- regrets immediately "you know something rebekah you're right I don't care, from this moment on you're not my family you're not my sister you are nothing " and then he breaks her neck. I HATE THIS SCENE BUT I LOVE IT. these two needed couple therapy. Klaus was horrible, she watched him die, she mourned him, her heart broke. He could've told her about his plan tho ? I'm still wondering why he didn't but I guess he was just being an asshole as usual and took her as granted. And him saving Caroline over her was not it.

-4×04: the flashback hunter scene "YOU TRUSTED HIM OVER ME " "WHAT DID HE PROMISE YOU " "TELL ME REBEKAH " it was like he caught her cheating on him lmaooo. On the same episode there's the famous line "laugh at the girl who loved too easily but I would rather to live my life than yours Nik, no one will ever sit around a table telling stories about a man who couldn't love" the way he looked down after her saying that breaks my heart, cause Klaus could love, he LOVES her, then he daggers her -cause he's a paranoid bastard- and he cries about it.

-Let's switch to TO scenes:

-1×02: this episode is one of my favs but the best scene was when Klaus was choking Hayley after he learned that she wanted to abort the baby then, rebekah slammed him against the wall (it was hot tbh lmao) and she said "it's okay to care, it's okay to want something that's all Elijah was trying to do all he's ever wanted for you, all we've ever wanted." The way he looked her deep in the eyes gets me everytime, he was trying so hard not to cry. Then they sat together, exhausted, and Klaus told her about his plan -that involved giving Elijah to marcel lol- and if she doesn't like it, there's the door.

-1×03: one of my fav episodes too and it has so many good klebekah scenes, “that depends what plan you mean love my plan for global domination or rebekahs plan to find love in a cruel cruel world” then she giggled and threw a pen at him so lovingly lol. They were teasing and all flirty with each other in front of Hayley and they acted as nothing happened the night before and Klaus never gave Elijah to marcel, after that they teamed up and everything was going fine but Klaus happened. then there's the masquerade ball scene when Klaus called rebekah " you really are a hideously evil little thing aren't you "

and them being jealous watching marcel and cami dancing. later in this ep theres the famous “you disgust me” scene, the tension was so thick i acually thought they were about to kiss and have sex on that damn piano lmao but klaus as usual disapointed rebekah, she trusted him against all her better instincts and he choose to act against her back cause he thought his plan was smarter.

-I'm not sure in which episode this scene is but I remember Klaus telling rebekah "you were quite resourceful today..... sometimes I think I don't give you your due little sister" it was so cute cause Klaus knows that he doesn't give Rebekah enough credits, and she was so happy to hear him say that.

-1×14: the famous "YOU CANNOT HIDE FROM ME REBEKAH" this episode had me crying the first time I watched it, Klaus was so angry, disappointed and hurt, he could not believe that his baby sister did this to him, that he was in denial for almost a century and he for that she must pay. "Rebekah would not call my father no matter how angry she was " "enough of your lies" even after seeing the truth from the source he still couldn't believe it cause he loved her so freaking much and he thought she did too.

Then them fighting and Klaus getting turned on by her beating his ass up

-1×15: this mf scene.

The kiss, THE FREAKING CLOSE TO THE LIPS KISS. the sexual tension in this scene was HUGE, Klaus finally "set rebekah free" and he was DRUNK doing it. "We don't have to run anymore, we've found a home" and the look on Rebekah's face is priceless, she was shocked and almost guilty cause at this time she has already called mikeal and Klaus was a little too late.

Also in the same episode, THE BLOOD SHARING. Look at them just look at them.

-1×16:

THE BABY MIKAELSON FLASHBACK !! OMG, this scene melts my heart. "Don't be afraid I won't let it hurt you " "will you stay with me till the storm ends ?" And he did stay with her no matter what. I love this scene cause it shows how close and protective they were of each other since forever. Then he gives her the wooden knight so she can be brave. I'm soft.

Then there's this one too ! I love how Rebekah was actually the only one to ever stand against mikeal, she even tried to kill him, just for Klaus. So much devotion.

I'm still not over this one, the hurt on Rebekah's voice as she says those words, Klaus's tears, the whole episode was so angsty but this scene was IT. and then he realised what he did to her, that instead of protecting her he was hurting and suffocating her so he did something he's not used to do, being selfless, and he let her go.

The 1×22 scene: LITTERALY on top of my fav scenes list ! Klaus giving hope to Rebekah proved how much he trusted her "there's no one I would trust more with my daughter's life" and the fact that she came back just for him (and hope) proved that she never really wanted to leave, she just needed a little freedom. Then when he handed her the little toy I WAS IN TEARS OKAY, it was so soft. They were so happy and relieved to see each other again.

-2×09: "if anything goes south I'll be there to pull you out" "you and I on the same team it must me Christmas" he promised to protect her at any cost and she knew he will. Them teaming up against Esther was so great, then the "take me instead" , Klaus was WILLING to sacrifice his immortal life for REBEKAH, if this isn't pure love then I don't know what it is.

-2×17: another episode losing his shit because his wife-sorry sister is in danger. He let Freya enter his mind just to save her (and he was so suspicious about it cause he didn't want her to know his strategies but in fact he was just afraid she'll know about his questionable taste in woman lmaoo)

And this mf scene is so cute, look at their smiles, the forehead touch, his hand on her neck, here on his arm, FOR YOU FOR NOW. I can't believe this is actually canon.

-2×22: "family tradition!" "Minus the family."

"Well, you're here."" In the skin of your choosing, no less."

"Well, poor you. Because that body is such a hardship."

"You would hand over your crown? And do what?" "Raise my daughter... with the help of my sisters. One big, happy family."

" Now, that does sound grand-- minus the giant, Elijah-sized hole in the room. And, whilst your sisters raise your child, what will the child's mother be doing, exactly?"

"This, dear brother, is not what happiness looks like."

This scene was so important, Klaus was wrong and he needed someone to remind him that what he did was not necessary, that he hurt most of his family, and rebekah was there for that. He wished she'd stray with him to "raise" his daughter but after this scene we see Freya offering her Eva's body so she leaves.

-3×09: "you're always leaving" "and I always come back" THEN THE DAMN HUG. their hugs are always so good, the way they close their eyes and hold each other tight and they seem like they never want to let go of each other. Then she has to leave and make Elijah dagger her without telling Nik, cause she wants Nik to be happy for once.

-3×22: "wasn't you who once told me I could talk my way out of hell " and then they smile affectionately at each other and HUG tightly. After this he took her hand and they both walk to their possible end, and she watches him getting stabbed by marcel after she was forced to say all those things she did and didn't think. The whole trial scene was a masterpiece. I love it.

-4×02: this EP was full of klebekah soft scenes. There was the reunion HUG . the way she runs to him the second she sees him and the way he reaches to her and hugs her tightly to his chest.

The kiss on the cheek after "thank you for not abandoning me" and the way he smiles at her was so SOFT OMG.

-4×03: the goodbye hug "Nik you do not need me anymore, I know that I'm your fav sibling and of course I adore you" "you were the only one who never treated me like s misfit, for centuries my only place was by your side...." AND THEY HUG TIGHTLY AGAIN. this was the first time Klaus let Rebekah do whatever the hell she wanted without fighting or daggering and it was revolutionary to her. (The fact that she's his fav sibling and she KNOWS it makes me so happy lmao).

-5×01: their phone call about Elijah. They were both so lost and devastated without him it broke my heart. "How does he look?" "Happy.."

-5×08: "ah Nik always so dramatic"

They were so happy to be reunited after 7 years of being apart, look at them hugging each other so tightly. I LOVE this scene.

-5×12: then there's the goodbye scene, Klaus gave her the cure so he can make up for a thousand years of hurt, "live the life you've always wanted to live, MY SISTER" the way he looked at her so proudly, so in love makes me cry. In my opinion he gave her the cure so they can reunite again in the afterlife. Both him and Elijah can't live or die without her, they're supposed to be together, they're meant to be together and the cure will bring her to them, to him, again. It was such a good scene, the hug, the last glances, everything.

And that's it!!! I'm sure I forgot some other scenes but those are the most important. ❤️

#klebekah #thanks yuki for asking this #and sorry for the typos #most of this was written at 3 am #evanescentrainbow #the originals

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fortisfiliae · 4 years

Text

Promised Part 5 - Tom Riddle x reader

Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life.

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 2.5k

Part 5 - Making believe

The news about your fight with Tom had spread across Hogwarts quicker than you had thought was possible. Three days had passed and you were sure even the teachers knew about it by now. And everyone seemed to know more about it than you did.

You had heard stories about you hexing Tom in the hallways, about him threatening you there, about you almost drowning yourself in the lake, about Benjamin trying to kiss you, about you trying to kiss Benjamin. The list was endless. And none of it was true.

The way people looked at you made you angry to a degree where you had to control yourself not to smack them. Your anger was also fueled by the fact that Tom had not apologised yet. Three days. Feeling as long as three years when the whole school seems to watch your every move while you are waiting for your future husband to make up his mind.

Those three words alone made your blood boil. Your future husband. Who certainly was the most conceited, hot-headed, mistrusting bastard on earth. Who you had agreed to marry for your sister. Who thought you would cheat on him, in this imaginary relationship, on the first chance you got. With Benjamin Hilt... Maybe he was also the daftest future husband on earth.

But nonetheless, you wondered far too often when he would finally walk up to you and apologise. You had even considered apologising to him just so you wouldn’t have to ignore him anymore. But that thought hadn’t lasted longer than a minute. He had to learn his lesson.

Tom’s friends seemed awfully aware as well. Although Avery and Lestrange stayed out of your way, some others made you feel like you were constantly observed. Almost as if they were his spies, telling him where he could go to avoid you. Tossers.

The only person keeping you sane was Camille. She knew the truth and shut down every rumour that came to her ears. She had also tried to talk to Tom, much to your dismay. But he had ignored her completely.

“Still no news on the fiancé front?” Camille asked when you sat with her in the courtyard.

“Don’t call him that,” you answered.

“Sorry,” she said but smiled. “I’m sure he’ll talk to you soon.”

“You think so? I’m not so sure. And I don’t really care.”

Camille laid her hand on your shoulder. “You don’t care, huh?”

“I don’t.”

“Oh well… You talk about it an awful lot for someone who doesn’t.”

“You started it this time,” you grinned. Changing the subject seemed appropriate. She was right. “Do you want to study together around 5? In the library?”

“Sure. I still haven’t done the homework for Charms.”

“Me neither.”

You watched the people around the courtyard. They looked comfortable. Cosy with their scarfs on. Carefree, wandering around and talking to their friends. You wondered if you looked like them too. Or if they could see how bitter you felt. How uncomfortable and tired. If your poor attempt of faking indifference was enough to deceive them. The bench where you sat with Tom three days ago was right next to you. You had specifically chosen not to sit there but at the one next to it. Not that anyone had a clue, not even Camille knew which exact bench it was. But it felt good to avoid it.

One of Tom’s friends, Evan Rosier, walked by. Another spy, another rat, running back to the nest, to tell him where not to go. He locked eyes with you for a brief moment but retracted ever so quickly and went inside.

“It’s cold,” Camille said and pulled your gaze away from the other students. She rubbed her hands together and crossed her arms. “Want to leave?”

“Just a few more minutes,” you said and took a deep breath. The cold air didn’t hurt. It was sharp and fresh, it kept you awake.

“Okay,” she answered and laid her head on your shoulder. “Look, Ben and his friends are over there.”

They sat on the ground next to the stone walls, about fifty feet away. They didn’t seem cold either. Some of them had their coats open, their scarfs only hanging down loosely from their necks.

“They’re strange,” you mumbled.

“I know, right? Like outcasts. But cool ones.”

“Cool? I’m not sure about that.”

Camille laughed. “I don’t know. They seem so happy all the time. As if nothing mattered to them really.”

“If that was true, Ben would know how to mind his own business.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You turned your head away from them, looking to your left where you heard footsteps coming your way. And indeed, someone was approaching you. The person’s shoes seemed oddly familiar and all your muscles tensed when you looked up and found out who they belonged to. Tom.

Camille noticed your movements and looked over as well. Tom stopped in front of you, not saying anything, just looking from you to Camille and back to you.

“I, um,” Camille cleared her throat. “I think I’m gonna go inside. I’m freezing.”

You nodded, watched her leave, then looked up at Tom again and waited for him to say something.

But he didn’t. He just looked back at you, or through you maybe, until he finally sat down next to you.

He sat there, staring straight ahead in silence, even though you gave him every chance to speak. The wind tousled his hair in those everlasting minutes of curiosity. What was he doing here, if he didn’t want to talk?

People around you had noticed as well. They were looking over in turns and proceeded to whisper to each other. Like you wouldn’t notice.

“I have something for you,” Tom suddenly said and fiddled something out of the inner pocket of his coat. “My grandfather sent an owl.”

Seriously? Three days of silence and he came up to present you a letter? From Marvolo Gaunt of all people. The nerve of him.

“And?” you asked.

“And what?”

“Don’t you think you should say something first? Like an apology?”

He sighed and looked away again. As if he had known you wouldn’t let him get away with it. As if he had dreaded that moment.

“Yes,” he then said, so quietly you could hardly hear him. “I’m sorry for how I behaved. That I haven’t trusted you and that I didn’t let you speak.”

He looked like it hurt him physically to apologise. But it wasn’t enough.

You turned towards him, watching him staring into the distance. “Now look me in the eyes and say it again.”

Tom turned his head your way, his brows furrowed, eyes looking into yours, filled with such anger, making you regret what you had said. You couldn’t tell if he would rather stand up and leave, or curse you right then and there for what you asked of him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated nevertheless.

“Thank you,” you answered and wondered if you should comment on how long it had taken him. Better not.

Tom pointed to the letter in your hands. “Now read it.”

The parchment was old and smelled damp and mouldy.

“Tom,

I was informed by an unknown source that people at Hogwarts are doubting the authenticity of your relationship with your fiancée.

Someone sent a letter and implied they would notify the ministry about it if we wouldn’t cancel the wedding ourselves.

Let me remind you two, that our plan must go through. If it won’t, the little one will pay for it.

Improve.

Marvolo Gaunt”

Breathing felt harder all of a sudden. There was a lump in your throat that burned and stung right down into your lungs. If the ministry would doubt the validity of your relationship, they could definitely null and void the marriage before it even happened. Which would be fatal.

“Merlin’s sake,” you sighed. “Who would do that? Threaten your grandfather...”

“You don’t know?” Tom asked and looked over to the group where Ben sat. “I got a suspect.”

“Of course… And what are we going to do about it?”

Tom took the letter and folded it back together, not taking his eyes off Ben. “Let me handle him.”

“What will you do?”

“Nothing too bad,” he said. “Possibly.”

“And how does Marvolo expect us to improve?” you asked. “We can’t change what people think about us.”

“Make them believe. It’s not that hard to fool people.”

He was right. Tom might have been a prick, but he certainly wasn’t a fool. If rumours about your fight spread so quickly, rumours about you making peace would spread even faster.

“Hold my hand,” you said.

“What?”

“We have to make them believe. Better start right away. There are lots of people around. Maybe we can even trick Ben and his friends.”

He restrained for quite a bit, then ever so slowly reached for your hand, still not looking at you. His skin was warm from being inside, almost hot against yours. He felt stiff and mechanical, as if he didn’t know how to behave. It was a bit uncomfortable, having your hand lying in someone else’s, who didn’t really hold it but simply let it lay there.

You adjusted your fingers and put them right against his, which made him turn towards you. His pulse pumped softly against the tips of your fingers. It was faster than you had thought and made you smile. Tom didn’t. But he looked at you, differently.

His brows weren’t furrowed anymore, the anger from before completely washed away. His eyes were open, studying your face with a deadpan stare until he squinted.

“You’re cold,” he said and brought his other hand around the back of yours, now properly holding it with both of his.

“I’ve been here for a bit,” you told him and looked around, letting his unfamiliar warmth spread through your veins. “I think it’s working.”

“Hm?”

“The people. They’re watching.”

Tom took a glance, his fingers twitching as he did. The other students turned away one by one when his gaze neared them. Even Ben and his friends had noticed but ducked their heads now too.

Seemed that making people believe was actually easy.

“And he really held your hand? Wow. Even I wouldn’t have guessed that,” Camille whispered when you told her about what had happened.

“I know, me neither,” you said while opening the Charms textbook.

“And I wasn’t there to see it. Damn it. I knew I should have peeked around a corner.”

“Gross,” you joked and looked around if anyone could hear you.

The library was quite full, but you had found a desk at the far end, where no one would bug the two of you.

Studying with Camille was, as unbelievable as it may sound, one of your favourite parts of school. It brought tranquillity and effect together. Feeding your brain with new information and sharing it with one another was a sensation you got nowhere else. You had done it since first grade and it had worked well ever since. No matter how dry, or tricky the material was, you had always found a way to remember. You were great together. Balanced.

And she brought chocolate, every time. Major plus.

It had gotten dark outside a while ago when you finished the Charms essay. Only then you noticed how tired your eyes were from the dim light. Camille had completed hers two chocolate bars ago and was waiting for you by the window.

“Done,” you sighed. “Finally.”

“Great. Let’s go then,” she said and started packing up her things.

“I haven’t proofread.”

“Oh,” Camille nodded and teetered from one foot to another.

“But you can go. Really. You’ve already waited for so long. I’ll just read it again and then I’m off.”

“You sure?” she asked.

“Yes. Somewhere you need to go?”

“The loo,” she whispered and you laughed.

“Then run!”

You rubbed your eyes and folded the parchment flat out under your hands. One more read-through and you were done. It was even quieter around you, now that Camille had left. The only things you heard were the librarian’s steps, as she tiptoed through the rows every now and then, and some quills scratching on paper from afar. It was a hypnotic silence, that made it easier to read. So easy, you didn’t even notice someone walking up to you.

The sound of the chair next to you screeching lightly over the floor was so startling, you almost knocked over your inkwell.

“Merlin’s sake,” you whispered as you screwed down the small bottle. “You can’t creep up on me like that. Almost ruined my essay.”

“Pardon me,” Tom said. “Who could have thought people had to be quiet in a library?”

You shot him a look to prevent yourself from telling him to keep his cocky jokes to himself. “What are you doing?”

He opened up a book, giving you the same look in return as if to say, what do you think people do in here. “Reading.”

“Alright then,” you said and leaned over your parchment again.

Just a few more pages. But suddenly the words you had written didn’t make sense anymore. You had to read each sentence twice, to even understand what they meant. And you were awfully aware of your breathing. Tom made you nervous.

It took you twice as long to read one page and the fact that you watched him from the corner of your eye every other moment didn’t help.

Concentrate. Forget he’s even here. You had eventually found somewhat of a rhythm again, laying one paper aside, when Tom touched your hand.

You automatically jolted and looked over to him. He was still reading his book, now holding your hand firmer, more proper than earlier that day. It seemed like he wanted to finish this particular paragraph before he looked back at you. And the blank expression on his face said more than ever before. It was a mix between him waiting for you to pull away and simultaneously telling you not to dare to move.

It was the same silence, the same tension that occurred when he had come for dinner at your house, when you were alone in the dining room with him. But yet, it felt so different.

So you held him, too. Quietly. Still staring at him. While no one spoke a word.

Your fingers folded along the back of his hand perfectly, like they were meant to be there.

And then, he moved. His thumb swayed back and forth across your skin, so lightly you could barely even sense it. So softly, as though he was scared it could hurt and break you. His eyes were fixated on you. He studied every breath, every flutter of your eyelashes, every muscle moving in reaction to his touch.

And there it was. Something different in his eyes. Something more than the notorious apathy. A spark, a tiny hint of what you would call emotion.

Something you had never seen on him. It suited him well. So you let him feast on it. For forever if he asked you to.

Please consider leaving a comment and tell me what you think so far :) They motivate me so much to keep writing!

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scatterpatter · 3 years

Note

Corren - 1 through 100 - You did this to yourself.

FUCK YOU *UN-IRONICS YOUR ASK*

UNDER THE FUCKING CUT

1. What do they smell like?

Bad. Do you think their party is able to regularly take showers? I thinketh the fuck not. ... Pine and old books when he can self care tho.

2. What is their voice like?

Listen I know Corren, being taller, would be more likely to have a deeper register but you'll tear "tenor Corren" out of my cold dead hands

3. What is their biggest motivator?

Spite.

4. What is their most embarrassing memory?

When he first met his BFF Alondra, he was so antisocial and good at ignoring people that she actually got the impression he might have been hard of hearing. She never let him live that down. (one day I'll finish this fic i promise)

5. How do they deal with/react to pain?

"I will keep all of my pain in here, and one day I'll die." ... Okay but listen he's squishy so he takes like one hit and is bloodied up. Someone get him a healer. Pls.

6. What do they like to wear?

He likes his cloak. Its weighty and soft(well. WAS soft. got a bit of wear and tear these days.) and like. Who doesnt love cloaks.

7. Which of their relationships have impacted them most positively?

Ohhhhh fuuuccck this one's tough. I might have to go with Torvid honestly. While the entire party has had a positive impact on him(and trust me I was this close to picking Alistair), Torvid's been more of the one to call him out on his bullshit and to, oh I don't know, talk about your emotions? Ever??? Yknow BEFORE they become too much to handle and he absolutely breaks down???

8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?

Alistair's cooking.

9. Describe the way that they sleep.

Good luck finding him NOT cuddled up with at least one dog. Tbh he just enjoys cuddles in general.

10. What is their favorite food/kind of food?

FUCKIN. GIVE HIM A GOOD STEAK. THIS BOY IS MOSTLY CARNIVORISTIC.

11. What do they feel most insecure about?

As tempted as I am to say "His cooking", it's actually his singing.

12. How do they like to dress?

"Comfort over flashiness tbh. I gotta go ADVENTURING in whatever I wear after all."

"... Also don't you DARE perceive me as cishet."

13. How do they react to feelings of guilt?

Call him a genie because he will BOTTLE THAT SHIT UP.

14. How do they react to/deal with betrayal?

Denial :D

15. What is their greatest achievement?

Shrike: Killing his dad

Me: NOOOOOO

EDIT: WAIT THIS WAS ANSWERED IN Q99 WHAT THE HECK

16. What are they like when they’ve gotten too little sleep?

Somehow more of a dick than usual. Snappy and cranky and just. Mrehhh.

17. What are they like when they’re drunk?

Doesn't get drunk often, but when he does I imagine he's actually giggly and a little clingy. It's cute :)

18. What kind of music do they enjoy?

*Opens my Corren playlist* Oh yeah. It's either full edgy alt rock or indie alt "depressed millenial" tracks.

19. Are they right or left handed?

FFFuuhhhhck uhhhh well

Looking over my old art I can't seem to pick a dominant hand(I've even drawn him handling his sniper with either hand???????????) so like oops guess he's ambidextrous.

20. Fears?

The dark, the ocean, dying alone and forgotten, his friends losing their trust of him

21. Favorite kind of weather?

Rain!!!! Especially cool rain like what people often get in fall months.

22. Favorite color?

Indigo!!!

23. Do they collect anything?

Books :3

24. Do they prefer either hot or cold weather more?

Cold weather by far.

25. What is their eye color?

Electric blue!

26. What is their race/ethnicity?

Well his race is a homebrew race known as Marelienth. Uhhh ethnicity? Idk he's from a mountain town way up north *shrugs*

In human aus I imagine him as half-Mongolian half-Norwegian so ayee

27. Hair color?

Black!

28. Are they happy where they are currently?

No :D He loves adventuring with his party don't get me wrong but he still has a lot of trauma to unpack. ... Also he was just possibly broken up with soooo. :/

29. Are they a morning person?

NOPE.

30. Sunrise or sunset?

*motions to above question* Sunset.

31. Are they more messy or more organized?

More organized, actually!

32. Pet peeves?

*unravels a list. It's all shit the party has done. Mostly Alistair.*

33. Do they own any objects of significant personal importance?

HOOUSIDSJFK- HE- Y-YEAH HE SURE DOES

His amethyst pendant used to belong to his brother, Julian, and he gave it to Corren right before they were separated so you BET it's sentimental as shit and he wears it daily.

34. Least favorite food?

Mecha's usually a great cook but one time trolled him with some absurdly spicy curry he couldn't handle and he's never forgiven them.

35. Least favorite color?

Hmmm. Maybe... yellow?

36. Least favorite smell?

He spent a year with his party in a damp cave and no showers, so uh. I'll give you a guess.

37. When was the last time they cried?

Literally last night in our game's timeline :D Full breakdown and everything!

38. Were they with anybody the last time they cried?

Torvid :D He was there to comfort

39. Tell us about one of the times they got injured?

One time they were in combat and Corren took a few hits and was down to about 2hp or so. He had a temporary level thanks to Kieran, which boosted his HP a little bit. When he teleported them to a safe town, though, well... Torvid was waiting for them so that's cool. But uh. Yeah that temporary level wore off then and there, dropping Corn Cob to exactly 0hp and he just- flopped down face first in the snow and started dying then and there KJNDKLFNSLKN

40. Do they have any scars?

Do you want to talk about the scar over his eye from a fight he got in with his dad or like. The scars on his limbs from the time he was literally experimented on.

41. Do they struggle with any mental health issues?

Undiagnosed+Untreated Anxiety, Depression, DPDR, PTSD, just to name a few

42. Do they have any bad habits?

Running away from his problems, definitely.

43. Why might someone dislike them?

He's a pretentious nerd. He can be a dick if he doesn't care about you.

44. Why might someone love them?

He's an adorable nerd! He's a hopeless romantic and oddly enough an optimist. He's passionate and driven too!

45. Do they believe in ghosts?

Well ghosts are like- a canon proven thing in his world sooo. Yeah.

46. Is there anyone they would trust with their lives?

His party. Well- most in his party.

47. Are they romantically interested in anyone?

Nethyl :)

48. Are they dating/married to anyone?

He's dating Nethyl and they're in a happy and healthy relationship :) *politely ignores canon*

49. Do they like surprises?

NO >:(

50. When is their birthday?

Heroya 5th! I think. I don't wanna check, assume it's this.

51. How do they usually celebrate their birthday?

"You guys celebrate your watchdays?"

Jokes aside, he mainly just treats himself to a nice dinner and a new book or something :)

52. Do they have any family?

Two older siblings: Julian and Mila. His parents are Andreas and Fanya!

53. Are they close to their family?

... *Coughs*. He was close with his siblings, but Mila died and he hasn't seen Julian in 30 years. Was close with his dad but last time they saw each other, they fought and Corren might have killed him so. ... Yeah. :/

54. What is their MBTI type?

FUCK uh. I... N... T... J? INTJ. Sure.

55. What is their zodiac sign?

In Sekrezia: The eagle

In our world: Uhhh. Idk. Capricorn????

56. What Hogwarts House would they be in?

Uhhh. Ravenclaw??? I know almost nothing about HP :/

57. What D&D alignment are they?

THIS ONE'S EASY- lawful neutral!

58. Do they ever have nightmares? If so, what about?

Used to have typical nightmares, nothing special. Nowadays though he often dreams of being underwater. Not drowning, though. It's... weird. He doesn't like those.

59. What are their views on death?

He's a necromancer lol.

Death is inevitable, though. It's a necessary part of life. Death is not an entire loss, though. One lives on in the memories others carry of them, in the love they hold in their hearts. Death is complicated, but that's okay.

60. What is something that they’re sure to laugh at?

Alistair :)

61. When bored, how do they pass time?

Dog time :)

62. Do they enjoy being outside?

... Ehhhhhh?

63. Do they have an accent?

Technically??? It's an accent from where he's from but like. I just barely tweak my own voice when I rp him so? Damn Corren I'm sorry you've been cursed with east coast dialect.

64. Upon seeing a slice of chocolate cake, what is their first reaction?

"Damn who's the rich bastard here?" (cake is kinda a delicacy in their world- not like elites only but not NEARLY as common as it is here)

65. If they knew they were going to die, what would they do/say?

Reassurance mode to whomever he's with. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm okay. Remember what I told you, death is a natural part of life, yeah? I don't have any regrets, I'm okay... Just. Thanks. For giving me a chance. Thank you. Thank you."

66. How do they feel about sex?

I SWEAR he's allosexual. I'm just bad at writing allosexuals.

67. What is their sexuality?

He doesn't really know how to pin it down, so he just calls himself "queer". Definitely not straight, that's all he knows.

68. Do they become squeamish at the sight of blood?

AHAHA no. He's hella desensitized

69. Is there anything that they find really gross?

Skulking cyst. Look it up at your own volition. It's. NO.

70. Which TV Trope(s) best describes them?

It's 12:21 in the morning and I'm NOT about to scroll through a bunch of tv tropes just. just. NERD stereotype.

71. Do they enjoy helping people?

Yyyyes? Only really if it's the people he cares about.

72. Are they allergic to anything?

Bullshit.

73. Do they have a pet?

WINGTHARA!! HIS SKELE-DOG!!!

74. Are they quick to anger? What are they like when they loose their temper?

Oh yeah he's all bark and no bite. He usually just throws a little fit and/or yells.

75. How patient are they?

More than he should be :/

76. Are they good at cooking?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

77. Favorite insult? Do they insult people often?

Oh yes he insults the others all the time. No particular favorite, he likes so spice it up.

78. How do they act when they’re particularly happy?

Stim. Stim. Stim. His eyes get all sparkly and he. He.

79. What do they do when they learn about other people’s fears?

He will do everything in his power to assure they won't ever have to deal with their fears alone- You afraid of spiders? It's his job to get the spiders from now on so you won't have to deal with them.

80. Are they trustworthy?

Oh yeah. He's like Rapunzel- doesn't break promises.

81. Do they try to hide their emotions? Are they good at it?

Oh yes he tries to hide it. And yes, he's awful at it.

82. Do they exercise regularly?

Yes and no? No like- exercise regimen, but the amount of travelling and fighting they do is just- a workout in and of itself

83. Are they comfortable with the way they look?

Yeah! He's cute and he knows it baybie!!!

84. What are some physical features that they find attractive on people?

He,,, he likes someone who's physically stong,,, Muscles are,,, aaaaa >///>

85. What kind of personalities do they find attractive?

Someone he can nerd out with :)

86. Do they like sweet foods?

Impartial to it. He won't turn sweets away but he's not crazy about them either.

87. What is their age?

43, the equivalent of- I think someone in their mid 30s?

88. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between?

He's 6'8" :) Which is actually normal for his race

89. Do they wear glasses or contacts?

Sometimes! I like to think he has reading glasses or something like that.

90. Do they consider themselves attractive?

HE'S CUTE AND HE KNOWS IT.

91. What is their sense of humor like?

Julian tainted his sense of humor and now he finds the most dumb shit hilarious. Think very millenial/GenZ humor like "I wish I was Jared, 19"

92. What mood are they most often in?

"I don't get paid enough for this" or Fear.jpg

93. What kinds of things anger them?

People who don't keep their FUCKING WORD. Oh and like. Yknow. Half the shit his party does.

94. Outlook on life?

Again he's??? Oddly an optimist? In the "Things will get better and that is a fucking THREAT" way, but still optimist!

95. What kind of things make them sad/depressed?

Talk about his family :) Or the fact that his boyfriend might want him dead :)

96. What is their greatest weakness?

He's squishy as fuck. He goes down easy.

97. What is their greatest strength?

He's extremely intelligent and great with magic and his sniper!

98. Something that they regret?

Not doing more to stop his brother when he tried to resurrect their sister

99. Biggest accomplishment?

Either convincing an entire town his name is Torren or accidentally convincing some very OP people that he's secretly a dragon.

100. Create your own!

FUCK YOU I SPENT LIKE 2 HOURS ON THIS. NO PROOFREAD. IVE ALREADY DESIGNED CORREN'S AND NETHYL'S HYPOTHETICAL KIDS. ANYWAYS THEY'RE TWIN IRINAGA AND I'VE NAMED THEM AFTER THE DNDADS TWINS: THEIR NAMES ARE LARK AND SPARROW.

#LONG POST #LONG LONG POST #Corren #FUCK YOU DREWSKI <3

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alonely-dreamer · 3 years

Text

Dangerous Creatures | Chapter 36: Dangerous Friends

Summary: Mackenzie and Elijah go to Marcel’s party

Pairing: Elijah x OC

Words: 3314

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there. I’d like to thank @eywizard for beta reading this chapter for me!

Masterlist

On her knees, the seamstress focused on the needle, touching up the pants of her client’s suit as he admired himself in the mirror on his right.

“Damn, I do look good in a suit,” he said, making his friend in the cap laugh.

It wasn’t unusual for the seamstress to answer house calls, no, the only thing unusual about this client was the odd things he said. She felt weird as she focused on her work. She could hear the two men, but not quite comprehend what they were saying to each other, as if the words wouldn’t stick to her brain, turning into an alphabet soup she couldn’t read.

She thought she had heard names, Tina McGreevy and Joshua Rosza. What was the TV saying about them? Perhaps they were missing. No, it wasn’t that. Wait… who were they talking about again? Her mind was foggy and the more she tried to focus, the foggier it got.

“My guy at the docks is gonna come forward as an eyewitness, say he saw those two drunkenly fall into the Mississippi. They’ll be dredging for weeks, no one will come looking around here,” said the man in the cap, whose name she thought started with a ‘T’… Theo? Thibault? No… It was that.

“That’s good, considering one’s dead in a dumpster behind the county morgue and the other one’s a vampire now,” her client said with a chuckle. “Anything else?”

The words danced in her brain, refusing to form a correct sentence, refusing to make sense. As she tried to think back to what had just been said, she inadvertently pricked herself with her needle.

“Ow!”

She sat back on her knees and looked at her bloody finger. The man, whose name she thought might be Mark, crouched before her with a smile.

“Allow me, darling,” he said as he took her hand and brought the injured finger to his mouth.

She let him do it, even though her entire body was screaming at her to get up and go. Her mind was loud with alarms, screaming at her that it wasn’t safe, but she couldn’t say anything, couldn’t do anything but smile. His friend spoke up again.

“I sent four nightwalkers to look into a werewolf sighting in the Quarter. I haven’t heard from them since.”

Mark, or whatever his name was, lost his smile as he let go of her hand and sighed.

“That makes ten dead nightwalkers in the last week. You think the werewolves are back in town trying to start some trouble?”

“Look. I know you and Klaus are friends, but the fact is, since the Originals showed up…”

“Oh, come now, Thierry, you’re not still upset about that little toxic werewolf bite I gave you, are you?”

The seamstress barely registered the stranger who had just come into the fitting room. She felt like she was supposed to ignore him, to ignore them, to silence them out, and so she did.

“I see you’ve given him free rein of your compound now, too,” Thierry said with disappointment and disapproval.

“Yes. Well, seeing as my family and I lived here, built the place, in fact…”

“All right, come on,” Mark, or perhaps his name was Maxwell, interrupted their argument calmly, “you know the drill. Thierry is my guy, inner circle. Klaus is my old-time friend and sire. He’s also a guest here,” he reminded his friend. “Peace, all right?” he asked Thierry who nodded with a grimace. “All right,” he nodded as well. “What do you need, my brother?”

“I don’t need anything, just wanted to let you know Elijah accepted your invitation.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he smiled. “I hope you told him the rules.”

Klaus laughed. “He knows the rules, though I can’t promise he’ll follow them.”

“What about the witch?”

“Mackenzie? She used to love rules, would rather die than break them, actually. Now… not so much. But, no worries,” he added quickly to reassure his friend, “tonight is a party, no one expects a fight.”

“Right,” Marcel smiled unconvinced. “Let’s just have fun, eh?”

***

“So, how’s Matt?” Mackenzie asked, picking up a strawberry from the bowl on the kitchen counter right in front of her.

The cooks were busy cooking food no one asked, or wanted, compelled by Klaus to act like they were serving kings and queens. The kitchen was filled with desserts that Hayley was convinced would make her fatter than her pregnancy.

“Sleeping,” Rebekah’s voice came through the speaker.

“Where are you again?”

“We reached Amsterdam a couple of days ago.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It is actually.”

“So, I guess you’re not gonna be there for my birthday, then…”

“My gift is already in the mail, it should be there in time.”

“I was hoping to see you.”

“Aw, do you miss me?” the Original vampire mocked over the phone.

“Don’t you miss me?”

“Of course, I miss you, but let me tell you, the phone system is definitely one of the best creations in the past century.”

“Yeah, well I was actually hoping to spend my birthday with my friends, you know, but Katherine said she had no intentions of coming anywhere near Klaus ever again, so…”

“So what? I’m your backup friend?”

“I’d have loved to have you both here but since you guys all hate each other, I think it would have just ruined the day.”

“You’re probably right. Just spend the day with Elijah, I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to do anything you want. Birthday or not…”

“Fine, don’t come, it’s not like we can actually have a party anyway, in our secret hiding place away from Marcel…”

“Why don’t you just come join me in Europe? Leave Nik alone, he doesn’t deserve your help…”

“Well, that’s true, but I can’t just leave Hayley here alone with him…”

“You’re right, that sounds like a particularly cruel thing to do.”

“Anyway, have fun in Amsterdam then.”

“And you have fun at that party of yours, show Marcel what you’re capable of.”

“And how do you suggest she does that, Rebekah?” Elijah asked as he entered the kitchen.

Mackenzie smiled as she saw him, and leaned into him as he went to place a kiss in her hair.

“Brother, finally, you deign to talk to your poor sister…”

The Original rolled his eyes. “You’re always so dramatic, sister.”

“That bastard little thief stole our city and declared himself King, maybe you should show him he’s nothing but an ingrate little…”

“Alright, alright,” Mackenzie cut her off with a chuckle. “It’s a charity dinner, ‘bekah. We’re expecting champagne, good food, and dancing, nothing more.”

“You’re so boring. No wonder Kol hasn’t come around to visit you.”

“Ouch,” Mackenzie frowned. “Now you’re just being mean.”

“Heard from him recently?”

“He’s somewhere in Brazil, I believe,” Elijah answered.

“What the bloody hell is he doing there?”

“Who knows what our brother’s got in his head.”

“You got that right… Well, Matt is waking up, I have to go.”

They said their goodbyes before hanging up, Mackenzie still eating from the bowl of strawberries that was almost empty now.

“Do you even want to go to this thing?” she asked.

“No. But Marcel must have something in mind, and I’d hate to go against his plans.”

She smirked. “That’s so nice of you,” she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I am very nice,” he whispered before placing a kiss on her lips. “In fact, I have many nice things I want to do to you right now.”

“Ew, please, stop.”

The couple turned towards the kitchen doorstep to find Hayley standing there with a look of disgust on her face. Mackenzie rolled her eyes playfully as she took a step back from the vampire.

“What can we do for you, Hayley?” Elijah asked the newest member of the Mikaelson family.

“Nothing, I just came to stuff my face with the biggest cake I could find…”

“We’ll leave you to it then,” he nodded before he gently took Mackenzie’s hand and led her out of the room under Hayley’s uncomfortable gaze.

***

So far, everything was going well. Elijah and his witch were behaving remarkably, the Original had already signed a check, and had been dancing with his companion ever since. Klaus was right. They looked unbearably in love. The silver satin dress she was wearing was remarkable as well, no doubt a gift from Elijah, and it complemented her set of diamond jewelry best. A swiss blue topaz gemstone rested above her cleavage, the necklace looked ancient, royal, almost, as if it had belonged to a generation of royalty and had somehow found its way to her. He figured many “lost” jewels had found their way in the Mikaelson collection over the years. He watched them carefully, tried to eavesdrop on them too, but they were smarter than to believe they’d get any privacy in a room full of vampires, and kept their conversation as polite and as normal as possible, as if they knew they had an audience. Eventually, Marcel had better things to do than to spy on the two lovers, and even managed to completely forget about them as Cami had finally joined the party.

“They spend their nights and days with Klaus - you’d think they’d be used to the presence of an Original by now,” Mackenzie complained about the pairs of eyes that hadn’t left them ever since they had entered the compound.

Marcel had gone above and beyond for this party. Dancers, acrobats, the finest chefs and the finest champagne… All the guests were having a great time and were happy to open their wallets to the charity of the night.

“I don’t think they’ll ever get used to us,” Elijah replied. “After all the stories they’ve heard about us, we were a myth to them until we arrived here.”

Mackenzie scoffed, wondering how long it would take for her irritation to turn into something more dangerous.

“If only they knew…” Elijah started.

“If only they knew what?”

“If only they knew they were worrying about the wrong person,” he grinned with pride.

She smirked back and nodded as she looked around at Marcel’s nightwalkers. “Indeed.”

That’s when she saw it, or rather him, a vampire she had come to learn was named Diego, entering the party wearing a shirt and jeans and an unhappy look on his face.

“Looks like something’s wrong,” she said as she watched him approach Marcel, obviously nervous about interrupting his time with Cami.

Diego whispered something into Marcel’s ear, and they could see on his face something was wrong indeed. Marcel started looking around and stopped as he found Elijah and Mackenzie surrounded by dancing couples. He frowned before he made their way to them.

“Something wrong, Marcellus?”

“Yes, actually, Elijah, something is wrong. Where’s Klaus?”

“I’m right here,” the hybrid said as he appeared behind him.

“Good, come with me.”

The three Mikaelsons looked at each other with an amused curiosity. Whatever was wrong, it wasn’t their problem, and if it bothered Marcel that much, it meant it was probably a good thing for them.

They followed him out of the compound, heard him order Diego to find as many nightwalkers as he could and join them at a place he called the Traps, which is where he was taking them.

“For a week now, my guys have been dying,” Marcel started his explanation. “There’s a werewolf in town who’s been killing my nightwalkers, and a witch or two have been helping it, using magic, undetected,” he informed them, barely concealing his anger.

“How is that our problem?” Elijah asked, not bothering to hide his lack of curiosity.

“Rumors are you’re at fault.”

“If we were killing your people we wouldn’t make a secret of it,” Mackenzie said in all honesty.

Marcel stopped in his tracks and turned towards her. Unbothered by his anger, almost bored, and definitely annoyed, she raised an eyebrow at him, defying him to attempt anything.

“Is that so?”

“That is so,” she confirmed, her eyes falling on Thierry standing behind him. “Want me to prove it?”

Marcel stared at her, put all of his anger in his eyes, tried to see something as she stared back, anything on her face, even just a little bit of fear, but he saw nothing. What the hell could she have gone through that had made her so tough? Or maybe it was arrogance? No, it wasn’t just that. She had something, she was someone, someone powerful, who wasn’t afraid of him, because he was no threat to her. Not only did she have Elijah’s protection, but she also didn’t need it, and that was scarier than Klaus himself, and as he finally found fear, it was unfortunately not hers, but his own.

“You were taking us somewhere?” Elijah eventually said after a minute of silence.

Marcel was trying to calm himself down, trying not to let the smirk that had appeared on the girl’s face get to him. He regained his composure, and his usual bright smile came and replaced the angry look on his face.

“But, as you are here, now I know you had nothing to do with the attacks on my men, and I thought we could go and see for ourselves who’s been causing so much trouble in my town,” he said as if he were offering them something.

“Sounds like a party,” Klaus smiled maliciously, encouraging Elijah and Mackenzie to relax.

Diego and a dozen nightwalkers had found them before they had even reached the Traps, and signs of a fight could be heard from down the street. Mackenzie could sense a werewolf and at least two witches inside, and vampires, dying one after the other.

Marcel gave Diego the order to attack, to kill whoever it was that was killing his own men in his own town. Among the screams of rage and fear were laughs - laughs Elijah and Mackenzie thought they recognized. She looked up at him and the look on his face confirmed her doubts. He heard it too, but she also felt it. A smile creeped onto her face.

“Call back your men before they all get killed,” she said, and he heard the amusement in her tone.

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s only advice.”

“Advice you should seriously consider,” Elijah added.

But Marcel shook his head no and ordered more of his men to go in with him. They couldn’t even see what was happening inside. The bar had no window, only a door that was now broken. But they could hear everything that was happening and that was enough to give them an idea of the scene. Mackenzie chuckled, seriously debating whether or not to intervene.

“Perhaps we should do something,” Elijah suggested.

“What is going on?” Klaus asked, obviously irritated he was left in the dark.

Mackenzie smiled as she moved to go inside. She snapped the necks of every vampire there with a wave of a hand, and they all fell to the ground. All but Marcel. The bar was completely destroyed. Only a couple of chairs and tables were still standing, but most of them had been used as a stake and were now resting in the hearts of a dozen vampires. She walked past a temporarily dead Diego and took in the scene.

A man, the werewolf, was standing at the end of the room, with blood dripping from his mouth, holding a stake in his right hand, the broken chair he had ripped it off of in his other. He smiled at her as he saw her, the blood on his face made him look funny and she held back a laugh. A blonde witch was near him, waving at her, her free hand magically pinning a vampire to the ceiling. The last witch sat on the bar, her hair, her face, her outfit spotless, as if she hadn’t been part of the fight at all, but Mackenzie knew she had the highest body count.

“Mackenzie!” they all greeted in unison.

Her smile grew bigger and a laugh escaped her. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We came for your birthday, of course,” Olivia said as she jumped off the bar.

God, Mackenzie thought. She looked so much like Margo.

“Mom says hello.”

“Does her Majesty know you’re here?” Elijah asked as he stepped inside the bar with his brother.

“Of course,” Felicity answered as she let go of the vampire she was holding against the ceiling. He fell with a cry, and her boyfriend seized the opportunity to stake him.

Marcel would have stopped him and killed them all, or died trying, if Mackenzie didn’t have him pinned to the wall.

“Lying to Margo is a very bad idea,” Oliver said.

Olivia gave Mackenzie a hug and whispered in her ear: “Heidi says hi.”

Mackenzie’s heart skipped a bit and as she backed away to look at the Princess, the witch winked. Elijah frowned.

“We have so many gifts,” Felicity said as she hugged the elemental.

“You don’t turn twenty-years-old every day,” Oliver continued as he approached them.

“Who are you?” Klaus asked dryly, tired of being left out.

“Klaus, these are my friends from Germany,” she introduced them, “guys, this is Klaus.”

“Well, you definitely picked the more handsome brother,” Oliver winked at her and was rewarded by his girlfriend’s elbow in his ribs.

Elijah chuckled. “You’ve been here for a week?”

“Yeah, we got here early, we wanted to meet the um…” Oliver stopped himself. “You know…”

“How do you know about it?” Mackenzie questioned.

“The oracles told mom. I mean, it’s not something you see every day.”

Of course the oracles would know about Hayley and the baby. It made them wonder who else knew, and if they needed to be more cautious.

“It’s just werewolf curiosity,” Oliver shrugged.

“Are Heidi and Alexander going to be joining us?” Elijah asked.

“And are they going to kill more of my guys?” Marcel worried.

“Not their type,” Mackenzie informed him.

“To be fair we wouldn’t have killed anyone if they had left us alone,” Felicity said.

“But they went on about how werewolves are forbidden in the Quarter, and that really pisses a werewolf off, if you know what I mean,” Oliver growled.

“Werewolves are forbidden in the Quarter,” Marcel snarled.

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“And you are?”

“I suggest you stick to giving your own men orders,” Olivia said with royal authority, “you are no match for us, as you can see.”

“We don’t take orders from vampires,” Oliver added salt to injury.

“I heard witches weren’t allowed to do magic in their own town,” Felicity continued, “another one of your rules, I suppose?”

“Shall we kill him?” Olivia wondered.

Klaus laughed. “Please, my friend here has been ruling over the Quarter for decades now, he’s just doing his job.”

“If his job consists of stopping witches from practicing their craft and hunting werewolves, then he is an unfit ruler and a change of leadership is needed,” Olivia said. “A good ruler promotes peace among all, and if you’re unable or too weak to achieve that, then you must be replaced.”

“I think there’s been enough killing for one night,” Elijah tried to defuse the situation. “Why don’t we take you to our place, so you can rest?”

“As you wish,” Olivia nodded. “We could use a home for the remainder of our stay.”

“I’ll let my brother show you to our place,” Klaus showed them out of the bar. “I will stay and help my friend clean up this place.” He gave them an obvious fake smile that neither of the three companions paid any mind to.

Mackenzie and Elijah looked at each other knowingly. Here went Klaus’ good mood.

**********

#the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvd #the originals #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #elijah x oc #oc #reader #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #elijah x reader

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ruffboijuliaburnsides · 4 years

Text

No but I did this in the tags of another post that I reblogged but I’m actually kind of in love with this idea for a “Renfri lives and travels with Geralt sometimes and meets Jaskier” fic. So I’m expanding it and posting it separately!

So, think about like, what if Jaskier wasn’t actually born in Lettenhove?

Like, what if he was born to a king who lost his queen in childbirth? And what if his 9-year-old sister peered into his crib and saw him so small and helpless and alone. Their father can’t look at him because he’s the reason their mother is dead, their father can’t look at her because she looks so much like her mother. And this little baby, probably a month or two old at this point, looks up at her with wide cornflower-blue eyes and she loves him so fiercely she thinks it will burn her up, and Renfri makes a goddamn vow, as seriously as a 9-year-old princess can, that she’ll look after him always.

And she cares as much as she can. She’s still pretty little herself, but she plays with him and sings to him and glowers at his nurse when the woman gets irritated and yells because he won’t stop crying. Somehow this 10-year-old girl can always calm him, and that’s somehow worse, but at least the baby’s not screaming fit to bring the walls down anymore.

When Renfri is 12 and her baby brother Julian is 3 (and loves flowers and singing and hugs from his ‘Nenfi’, as he attempts to pronounce her name), their father remarries. Their new step-mother hates them both - she wants the children she will have with their father to be the future rulers of Creyden, and she is determined to remove them from the picture.

Renfri is the easiest target, because she has a temper (especially when it comes to defending Julian) and a fascination with death, and she was born under the black sun. Stregobor will later lie and say he delivered her on the day she was born, but really her step-mother simply has heard of him and his “black sun women” and requests he come “take a look” at her new step-daughter. She comes up with tales of murdered puppies and stabbed maids and tortured birds. and yes, there were starved diseased puppies that she wrung the necks of, while crying, because they were going to die and she didn’t want them to suffer. And yes, her maid was stabbed in the face when she tried to take a pretty comb away from Renfri when she was younger, and pulling so hard that when Renfri abruptly lost her grip, it flew back into her face and gouged into her eye. And yes, there was a bird, already dead when she found it, that Renfri had cut open to see what it looked like inside.

It took over a year, until she was 14, but finally Stregobor managed to have her 'dealt with’, saying she would be kept safe but really planning to have her killed so he could dissect her. And after that, he and her stepmother come to the king. The king, her father, who had never banned her from her time with Julian because he hadn’t quite believed any of the stories, and she’d always given every indication that she was viciously protective of the now-5-year-old boy, who she’d taken comfort in as her step-mother and Stregobor had done their best to gaslight her into believing she’d been as violent as they said, and as much of a mutated threat. And maybe she was mutated, maybe so, but Julian always loved her, and she never had felt a desire to hurt him even once.

But Stregobor convinced their father she was a monster, that he and their step-mother had been right. And they pointed out how much time she’d spent with Julian over the course of his life. They put forth the idea that she’d spent so much time with Julian she must have warped his mind somehow, making him unfit to be the crown prince and future king. Perhaps he’s under a curse she laid on him, or maybe just charmed to adore her always, but there was no telling - Lilit could likely work through him now after everything, and thus so could Renfri who had murdered her guard and fled. It wasn’t safe for the child his wife was carrying to allow Julian to remain. And the king believed them.

So the people of Creyden were told that Prince Julian had died of a fever. Renfri hears when she’s 15, and she screams and screams and screams, because she is sure, she is convinced that Stregobor took him apart, to see if he’d been changed by being around her; and given the fact that he’d said as much, that he though perhaps she’d been slowly mutating him to use as a servant for the day she tried to bring Lilit into the world, that wasn’t a baseless fear. Another reason to want this man dead. When she tracks Stregobor down in Blaviken, when she meets Geralt, in addition to the story she tells of what was done to her, she trembles with rage and tells Geralt about her 5-year-old brother, who was perfectly healthy and not suffering from a “long illness” like the official report had said, who Stregobor thought had been changed by her “powers”, who he almost certainly killed and dissected. And that’s just enough, just enough, to push Geralt over the edge.

He comes late to the market still, he fights Renfri’s men still, but when she shows up with her knife to Marilka’s throat, she says ‘Julian was everything good in the world, and that bastard snuffed him out just because I loved him. How is that not a monster? He was five. He liked flower crowns and pretending to be a princess for me to save him from a dragon. Help me.” And despite the fact he knows he shouldn’t, Geralt thinks about what that little boy must have been like, and how much he’d meant to her, and thinks about the sort of beast that kills a five-year-old simply for having loved his sister and been loved by her. And Geralt nods, and agrees, and helps.

No need to throw a rock at that wizard, because he’s dead as fuck. The people of Blaviken whisper in the streets, but to be honest it’s not as if they weren’t a bit unsettled by Master Irion anyway. Geralt and Renfri walk away, together, for the foreseeable future.

But no, the King hadn’t allowed for Stregobor to experiment on his son. Instead, Julian was adopted by the Earl of Lettenhove and his wife, distant cousins of his mother’s, and was told he’d always been their child despite the fact he didn’t know them. He screamed and cried for Renfri, Renfri, Renfri, and they told him there wasn’t anyone named Renfri, that there was only his older sister Lisbet, we are your family, Julian, you’re just playing make-believe, you’re just imagining things, you’re just telling tales, stop lying Julian, you’ve never lived anywhere but Lettenhove. And with time, he forgot. He’d still been so small, after all. And if he maybe liked the idea of cutting open a dead bird to see what was inside, or if he made flower crowns out of buttercups even though it made his mother yell because they’re poisonous, then that was just... himself. And if he has memories of a soft high voice singing lullabies he’s never heard in Kerack, well, maybe he just dreamed them.

And Geralt and Renfri traveled, and Julian grew up and went to Oxenfurt, and emerged a musician with big dreams of fame and strange melodies in his head and a need to see the world. He renames himself Jaskier, after those flowers he’d always loved so much, beautiful and poisonous, and he can’t remember who taught him not to put them in his mouth, but he knows that it was with a laugh as a buttercup-and-clover crown was dropped on his head.

And Renfri doesn’t always stay with Geralt. She doesn’t murder at random, but sometimes... sometimes there’s a human monster that Isn’t A Witcher Problem. And then she takes a little time off, and Geralt pretends he doesn’t know what she’s doing. And while she’s off removing a rapist from his position of power, he goes to Posada on the rumor of a possible contract.

And he meets this bard. And this bard has an oddly-familiar look to him, and an oddly-familiar edge to his righteous anger, and when the bard follows him out of town to the place he’s meeting up with Renfri, he sees her eyeing the boy suspiciously, and him looking her over curiously, and it’s uncanny how similar they look. Except then he thinks. He thinks how old he guesses the bard to be, and how long it’s been since Renfri told him about her 5-year-old brother, and how old that brother would be.

And Geralt pulls her aside while Jaskier’s eating, and asks if she’s sure Stregobor would’ve been given permission to experiment on her brother.

And she’s confused and irritated until Geralt jerks his head back towards the 18-year-old boy sitting on the other side of the fire. And then her eyes widen and she can’t quite take her eyes off him.

Because no, all of the sudden she isn’t sure anymore.

#the witcher #renfri #jaskier #geralt #idk how to tag this but it's some kind of AU #sort of a fic but not really #i should write this properly....#hmmm wasn't gonna cut this but i think I changed my mind #teeny cut

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imjustthemechanic · 3 years

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The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake Part 4/? - The Stewardess Part 5/? - An Assassination Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - Face to Face Part 8/? - Deals, Details, and Other Devils Part 9/? - Baggage Part 10/? - Private Funding Part 11/? - Just Passing Through Part 12/? - Party of Four Part 13/? - Resolute Part 14/? - The Wreck Part 15/? - Body Snatchers

Somebody else has come to claim their prize. I’m afraid dogs die in this chapter.

The next day they continued their work to free Steve’s body from the ice, though they were careful to leave enough that they wouldn’t damage him. It would be dreadful for children to come see the body of their hero lying in state and find he had pieces missing… and after a surprisingly good night’s sleep curled up with the warm, furry bodies of the dogs for heaters, Peggy found she could think about that now. She could think about things like what to dress him in for the funeral – his formal uniform with the medals, surely, but with the shield on his arm and his helmet at his feet – and where to hold it, who would speak and what they would serve afterwards. She was finished grieving, and now she could go through the associated rituals with no fear of breaking down.

Lake, oddly, seemed to have other ideas. “I don’t know about cremating him,” she remarked when they stopped for a bite to eat. “Sort of ruins the King Arthur aspect.”

“I beg your pardon?” Peggy asked.

“You know… King Arthur went to Avalon but will return when Britain needs him the most,” said Lake. “Captain America will rise again when he’s needed.”

Peggy snorted. “Do people really say that?” It was ridiculous mythologizing if they did. Steve was a real person and would want to be thought of as such.

“I don’t know,” said Lake. “Just something I thought of.”

Peggy cocked her head, remembering the woman’s earlier comments about the narwhals as unicorns. “You’re a bit of a romantic, aren’t you?” That seemed quite strange coming from somebody who’d been raised as an assassin.

“A little,” Lake admitted. “Not something I get to indulge very often. Are you telling me you’ve never imagined Captain America reappearing out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet?”

“He wasn’t the type to do the sweeping,” said Peggy.

“It was usually Peg sweeping him,” Howard added with a grin.

Lake nodded. “You must have some great stories about him,” she said.

“Oh, you bet,” said Howard. “When we were figuring out his uniform, he…”

“Howard,” said Peggy with a warning.

“Huh?” He looked at her in evident confusion.

She tilted her head towards Lake, trying to remind him, without actually saying so aloud, that anything he said might be reported back to the Soviet government.

“I’m a spy,” Lake said helpfully.

“Oh,” said Howard, embarrassed. “Right.”

By evening they had dug down far enough that they could see the entirety of Steve’s body, suspended in the ice just above the fuselage of the Valkyrie. It was a surreal thing to see. His eyes were closed as if he were sleeping, and he’d been frozen so quickly that his cheeks were still pink, rather than going white or gray like other corpses Peggy had seen. It was almost more like an art exhibit than the remains of a human being.

How long would he have been there if Lake hadn’t led them here, Peggy wondered. A hundred years? A thousand? Would people of the unimaginably distant future have found this corpse and wondered who the man had been and why he wore those colours? Or would the ice have eventually drifted south and melted, dropping him to the sea floor to be devoured by fish and crabs?

They bedded down for the night again, with the northern lights again dancing overhead in a clear, star-studded sky. It was the sort of sky nobody ever saw from New York City. Peggy hadn’t seen one like it since the war, when Britain’s cities had turned off their lights so that German bombers wouldn’t be able to find their targets. At the time she’d been too busy watching for the lights of approaching planes to appreciate the stars… now here they were, in all their glory. This was the sort of sky primitive man must have seen, huddled in their caves. What had they thought about it? Nowadays the leading theory was that the sun and other stars were powered by atomic fusion in their cores, but people long ago would have had no such explanations. They would have known only the innumerable tiny lights.

To think… in a universe so very vast and beautiful, she’d been so worried about the fate of a single man.

Peggy woke in the morning to the barking of dogs, and realized that she was cold. The animals had gotten up and were outside, making a terrible racket. Howard and Lake were also blinking awake, and there was a roaring sound… familiar, and yet Peggy could not immediately identify it. She crawled to the den entrance to look, and was immediately blasted in the face by cold wind and snow. A storm?

No… that rhythmic roaring sound, that wasn’t made by nature. That was helicopter blades.

“That was fast!” said Howard. He put on his fur hat and held it tight to his head as he climbed out. Peggy wriggled out after him, and Lake came third. They found three or four helicopters, kicking up the snow as they lowered men and supplies to the ground… and Peggy knew right away that Jason hadn’t sent these. Something was very, very wrong.

With the thunder of the blades all around them, Peggy knew it would be almost impossible for Howard to hear her, but she still grabbed his arm and shouted in his ear. “Howard! Those are military!” How had the Army Air Force found this place?

“What?” Howard asked.

One of the dogs ran up to a solider as he dropped from a rope to the ice. Whether it meant to greet him or attack him, Peggy couldn’t tell, and evidently the soldier couldn’t either. He raised his rifle and shot it between the eyes.

A split second later, Lake was on his shoulders with her thighs around his neck. The man fell on his face, and Lake took his gun and held the muzzle to the back of his head.

“What did you do that for, you goddamn bastard?” she demanded.

Other men were dropping from the other choppers. Two of them ran up to pull her off the one who’d shot the dog, but Lake reacted almost before they’d moved. One she hit in the face with the butt of the gun, then she grabbed his shirt and shoved him into the second so that the two collapsed together… but more were already on their way. Peggy quickly realized that if allowed, Lake would try to take them all on herself, and she ran to intervene.

“Kay! Don’t!” she took Lake by the arm. “You can’t fight all of them!”

It was true – they could not. There were far too many soldiers, and soon Peggy, Howard, and Kay were surrounded by men with guns. They raised their hands as the helicopters landed on by one in a circle around the Valkyrie wreck.

“We’re not armed!” Peggy shouted.

One of the men stepped forward and motioned with his gun back towards the polar bear den. Peggy, Howard, and Kay obediently turned and allowed themselves to be escorted back into it. Men took up positions outside so that they couldn’t try to escape.

There were a series of shots at the rest of the dogs were killed.

“He’s down here!” somebody called.

“Excellent! Let’s get to work!” another ordered. “Carefully! No damage to the tissues!” Their accents matched the insignia on their uniforms and vehicles – they were Americans.

Peggy heard an engine start. They had brought jackhammers. They’d have Steve’s body out of the ice in minutes, and then… then what? Where would they take him?

Wherever it was, Peggy knew it would be to exactly the fate Steve wouldn’t have wanted for his remains. They would take him apart to extract the secret of the serum and make more super-soldiers. Perhaps out of men who wouldn’t have Steve’s principles. Had somebody overheard Jason’s message and passed it on to the wrong people? Or… Peggy knew she hadn’t called the army, and Howard couldn’t have, because he’d been here with them the entire time. That only left one suspect.

“Friends of yours?” Peggy asked Kay Lake.

“What?” Kay stared at her as if she couldn’t believe what she just heard. “No!” she said. “Why would I call them? When would I have called them?”

“I don’t know,” Peggy said, “I don’t know why you’d do half the things you do, because when I ask you questions you talk in riddles!”

“I did not call the army to come and steal Captain America for you,” said Kay firmly. “That is the truth.”

Peggy wanted to believe that… but how could she? This was the same woman who’d looked her in the eye and told her she was Agent Nadine Russel from the FBI. How could Peggy ever trust her?

She didn’t dare poke her head out of the den, but Peggy kept close to the door to watch what she could as the men with the jackhammers worked. From that vantage point the actual site of the wreck was hidden by the rocks and the rest of the Valkyrie’s severed wing, but she could see men coming and going and hear them shouting.

As she’d feared, it took them only twenty or thirty minutes to cut Steve free of the ice. Men began climbing back in the choppers to take off, kicking up the wind again. Somebody called to the two who were standing guard by the den, and Peggy realized to her horror that the soldiers meant to leave her, Kay, and Howard behind. As the men walked away to catch their ride, Peggy squirmed out the entrance and shouted to them.

“Hey, you can’t leave us here!” she protested.

Kay climbed out after her. “You killed our dogs!” she agreed. “How do we get back?”

She was only half-done speaking when the helicopter engine started. It was doubtful the soldiers even heard them, as they climbed into the chopper to take off. One by one, the machines roared into the air. The men on board could doubtless see Peggy and Kay, and Howard scrambling to join them, but they evidently didn’t care.

From behind the rocks, the last helicopter rose – a block of glittering ice was dangling from a chain below it. Peggy’s heart sank as she realized that was probably the last she was ever going to see of Steve Rogers…

Then the block shifted, jerking the helicopter sideways. The pilot took immediate action, reducing altitude again to set its precious cargo down on the ice, only perhaps thirty yards in front of where Peggy, Kay, and Howard were standing. Men climbed back down to tighten and re-secure straps. They wouldn’t want to risk dropping Captain America’s body into the sea. Buckles and chains were checked and double-checked, and the pilot tried lifting off again. This time, the load must have remained steady. The pilot raised it up fifty feet, then gently set it down again and let down a ladder for the soldiers to climb back up.

Peggy looked at Kay. Kay nodded, and both of them took off running.

Moments before the block could be lifted from the ice again, Peggy threw herself on top of it and grabbed the canvas straps holding it to the chains. The first thing she focused on was undoing the belt of her coat and putting it around the strap, so she could not lose her grip and fall. Only then did she look to confirm that Kay was still with her. She was, and was in the process of tying herself to the central chain. The wind snatched her hat off her head and tossed it into the void.

Peggy watched it go, and then made the terrible mistake of looking down. The ground was already a thousand feet below them, bright ice and dark rocks and the distant crack where the cetaceans came up to breathe. A tiny moving point may have been Howard, alone in the cold with only eight dead dogs for company, but it might just as well have been Peggy’s imagination.

The air in their ears and the thunder of blades overhead were far too loud for Peggy and Kay to be able to talk to each other, so all they could do was cling on as best they could with numbing fingers, the wind eating into their faces as the helicopters headed roughly south. Wherever they were going, Peggy hoped it wasn’t too far. There was a very real possibility of freezing to death before they got there.

It wasn’t far by air, but it must have nevertheless been hundreds of miles, because they went all the way to the edge of the sea ice. In the water beyond, a United States aircraft carrier was waiting for them. The other choppers landed first, letting men off who could help the one with Captain America’s body come in. There was nothing Peggy and Kay could do but hang on as they were lowered towards the decks. The gathered soldiers looked startled to see them, but when given orders they cut the two women free and held onto them while others got the block of ice onto a reinforced gurney.

Peggy’s ears kept ringing for minutes after the last blade had stopped turning. Steve’s body was taken away, and a man wrapped in warm winter clothing approached.

There were several possibilities of who he might be, but based on his height and carriage Peggy had already settled on one by the time he took his scarf off to look her over. Sure enough, it was Vernon Masters.

#fanfic #captain america #agent carter #peggy carter #steve rogers #steggy #fix it fic

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currentfandomkick · 4 years

Text

Marinette did not sign up for this part 4

hey, so OG chapter 4 will now be chapter 5 as the gremlins hijacked this chapter.

part one here previous part here ao3 here

Damian stared in quiet horror as he looked over Ladybug’s exploits after hacking into Paris’ servers. His sister—the one he took down with little effort—had been defending the city for a month before he appeared. From the video of “Stoneheart” he could tell she was given no training. And her partner was flirting with her! When he should be focusing on the mission!

What gathered from further research was the following: his sister and her ‘partner’ were untrained. Their teammates were also untrained. A team of ten untrained teenagers—perhaps younger—were tasked with keeping a villainous coward from stealing their magic artifacts, and with stealing his in turn. A team lead by his sister. A very alone, scared girl from his one interaction with her. Smart (he saw now she knew how to save her own skin. Redirecting his attention was a good move at the time). She is smart and creative because if she isn’t, then her city and her will lose. Be under the control of some madman.

He had to get there, and he doubted he could convince Jon to help him at the moment—why are kyptonians always fighting one another when you need the assistance of one?

Father would stop him.

The League was keeping Father in Gotham and he didn’t have individual access yet…

He was stuck for the moment, and did not like it. Perhaps Grayson could prove useful? He’d ask once the man was done resting from patrol.

---------

Cass was enjoying Paris. She spotted the possible sister at the bakery with her adoptive mother. They were happy. Cass likes that.

Cass moved quickly through the crowd, managing to make it to the bakery.

Marinette ran into her.

“Ah! Sorry!” the girl managed to catch her things before they hit the ground.

Cass waved her hands, indicating there was no harm or foul. The girl was no clumsy—Shifu Cheng was ill-informed. Those reflexes and her expression before indicated nothing but an intense focus on something else. On what, Cass wasn’t sure.

Yet.

For now, Cass took a seat in the bakery, smiling at the kind woman working the front. Sabine Cheng, the woman who raised the maybe-Bat.

Cass began doing her own research, messaging Babs that she saw Soup Girl for a moment, and would be assessing her parents. She knew of cases in Gotham where things weren’t always right, and she wanted to be certain that this girl was safe, regardless of if she’s a Bat or not.

--------

Tim decided to ignore Babs offer in the end. The possibility of owing Jason was low given both him and Cass are on the Case. Jason is good, don’t get him wrong, but the chances of Jason actually talking to the girl in a real conversation before the rest of them? As Red Hood?

This is a calculated risk and the odd are in Tim’s favor. (Well, not in Jason's.)

--------

Steph hummed as she went over the designer pool she was looking over. Shockingly low given its Paris—granted 200 girls is a lot to investigate… she didn’t give the others all the information she had though.

According to Damian, she “posts a disgusting amount” which means she’s posting or tagged often. When she used some of Babs old filtering program with social media involved, it brought the candidates down to 30. She could go through thirty teenage designers social media and comb over who at least has some genes that are dominant from the Wayne side. Her natural hair had to be medium brunette at the lightest, so the natural blondes took out seven candidates right off the bat. While blue or green eyes would give them more priority on the list, eye color genes are weird. Weirdly, five of her candidates had attached earlobes, so she only had 18 left after that filter was put on… Bruce’s hair isn’t curly, so two girls with intensely curly natural hair were taken off the list. Bruce’s thin lips only knocked out two more candidates.

That left Stephanie Brown with 14 designers in Paris to find and investigate in the right age range, because she doesn’t think Bruce started having sex at 15, unlike Tim who is allowing college kids into his ‘could be Bruce’s daughter’ mix.

Stephanie is also going to need a plane ticket to meet these girls, and that means getting help from one of Wayne kids… Or stowing away on the private jet that she knows Tim can and will be using sometime today to do ground work himself.

She’s cool stowing away—Babs is covering for her on principle since Tim wouldn’t take the deal. Steph was smart enough to relinquish one piece of blackmail in total in exchange for use of Babs filtering tech—she has more than that thanks to one Supergirl spilling a number of things Babs has done over the years. Has Stephanie mentioned she’s the only one of the Bats to listen to Oracle, Queen of Technology, in this bet? She is, and she is better for it.

-----------

Marinette managed to make it to the Agrests Mansion with little issue this time. Today she was going to one of the production lines with Gabriel to learn how to reset the machines and program them to follow any simple stitch pattern she wanted. It was good.

She also noticed that during none of her times with Gabriel, was there a single akuma sighting. Not an attack—those never happened anywhere near their time together. It was an… interesting pattern. She was beginning to suspect that if Hawkmoth wasn’t Gabriel (he was akumatized, it can’t be him. Get that theory out of your head Marinette), then it had to be someone who worked for him, and high on the food chain.

She made sure to memorize each of his ‘supervising managers’ and partners’ names. One of them had to be Hawkmoth. And Gabriel had to be someone that this Hawkmoth either really respected or really didn’t want handle re-scheduling with. Which would be all of them…

She really wished she had more time to dig into their lives herself. For now, she had to trust Max and Markov to do the research… which reminded her, her name had been pinged on multiple searches in Gotham last night. From numerous devices. If the Bats were planning anything…

Marinette gripped her purse a bit tighter. Her team has her back. She just doesn’t want them caught up in this mess too. She wishes that Aquaman never showed up. If he hadn’t, then the Bats wouldn’t be looking into her civilian life, the one they already knew about but only now deemed worthy of their attention.

She wished they would just stop—she won’t look into the Great Detectives. She knows she’s not one of them. That she wouldn’t hack it in Gotham. But Damnit, in Paris? Her Territory—she does more than hack it. Sure, she may have blown herself up that one time, and yes, there is the timeline where as Princess Justice she may have sort of broke the world by forcing it to conform to that akumatized version of hers’ idea of Absolute Justice (apparently she was ruthless, made no exceptions and took out a third of the Justice League using Multimouse at the time on top of it all). Yes, she is not a perfect leader. Or hero. But Damnit, her (admittedly two) supervillians have been almost caught twice. Her re-akumatazation rate is much lower than any of the Justice League’s heroes’ normal villain or general crime recidivism rate by more than a little. By a lot. She’s not some Detective but she’s a damn good strategist, a champion at improvising and she and her team do work with the public and victims and reworked so much of Paris’ social culture to lower akuma-creating circumstances and keep the public emotionally healthy.

She’s no detective.

She’s a Guardian. That means caring about the details that shift the bigger pieces. That means adaption with what is there and creating what she needs. That means knowing her limits and getting help—to set an example and prove that not even her or Chat are an island. That even superheroes need help, need others and need to work together.

She’s no detective. Detectives work alone.

Her? She’s forged a team that (she hopes) could become the new Order of Gaurdians with her… some day. For now, they’re heroes with the same mission and different roles to play.

Marinette just wishes that she could shut up this hunch since its been disproven. Her instincts on guilt and possible baddies aren’t the best—Adrien’s job is to sense what’s wrong and take them out. Hers is to make whatever is needed to help fix things, to push someone forward and help them grow. Her job to craft a better tomorrow today… and to do that, she lost the parts of her that picked up Danger. She can still find Caution signs (and her anxiety will always invent danger) but real Danger detection went to Adrien when she agreed to become Ladybug in the first place… And until both her and Adrien renounce their roles as the pair wielding the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculouses, she’ll always be missing it.

The same way Adrien is missing his ability to think outside the box—seeing things as what they could become to help them went to her. He can only see potential threat and act on them. She can only see potential aide and act on that.

---------

Jason grinned when he managed to make it into Paris. The second there was some damn akuma attack, he was grabbing the baby Bat and hunting Hawkmoth his way—she need the jewelry? Fine. She can have it. The guy brainwashing kids? The one that slaughtered the city? He’s Jason’s. ---------

Bruce didn’t like being benched. He doesn’t like not knowing he had another child. He especially doesn’t like that this one is constantly preventing an apocalypse and his allies can’t be bothered to even send him anything about it. Not even a basic ‘she’s not living on the streets’ like Jason did. Or ‘she’s got parents here, calm down’ so he could get this stupid instinct to storm Paris and take on the bastard threatening his family that he didn’t know he had.

Apparently Barbra has a hunch, but isn’t sharing until she has “conclusive evidence” of his daughter’s identity. Damian just isn’t speaking of it. As if being someone’s father biologically gives him a built-in alarm system for when he’s had a child and the ability to track them down at birth. Damian being raised in the League of Assassins should be enough proof to the contrary there.

The others were… he wasn’t absolutely certain, but fairly certain his self-proclaimed ‘middle kid club’ were tracking his missing daughter down themselves. Possibly to claim her as part of their group, specifically.

God, she was so young, It was before he even heard of the League that she was born. In that lifetime before becoming Batman. Would she like him? He was absent her whole life—did she want to meet him, meet the family? They’re a mess, he knows it. But they’re his—he chose them and they chose him. Would she chose him too?

He watched another video of Ladybug in her early days, before she and her partner (dear god he’s cat-themed. Is it genetic? Should he test her and himself for some ‘drawn to dresses-as-a-cat’ gene?) were given any kind of training.

She blew herself up to stop her city from being taken over by ‘Animan’ and his creatures.

His daughter.

Exploded.

(She died. She died and he didn’t know. God he’s a horrible parent, and he hasn’t even parented her yet.)

She died.

To keep her city safe.

She somehow reconstituted. But her face, in that video, she was shocked.

His daughter should be dead but she’s not.

Magic, he’s so glad his daughter uses magic.

He. He’s going to need to consult someone. Raven? Raven should work. He can’t talk to the Justice League—nothing wrong with talking to the half-demon all of his Robins that lead the Titans has worked with.

Loopholes.

The Justice League is horrible at closing them.

---------

Dick wanted to be mad when Damian came clean to him about the needles. He wanted to freak out over almost losing a sister he hasn’t met.

He did.

But.

But this is Damian.

Damian who still has trouble connecting. Who still flinches at certain tones of voice and phrasing. Damian who desperately wants to do Good but… struggles.

Damian who has all of Bruce’s communication problems and then some.

So no, Dick did not scream when he found out Damian only sparred “the blood daughter” because she looked too frail and weak for her to be considered anything resembling a threat to him. He did not sigh when he found out that Bruce didn’t know when Damian assumed he did. He did not hit himself when Damian discussed the various weapons he’d gifted her as a apology with the bouquets over the years and their meanings.

He did take a deep breath, and begin explaining from this baby bat’s stance what had happened.

“Imagine for a moment that it was me before I became Robin, and I was almost killed by someone who only let me live if I never contacted a shared parent or that parent’s known family. How do you think Pre-Robin me would have responded?”

“You would have feared for your life and done whatever you could to prevent contact.”

“Now, imagine I wasn’t told who to be avoiding, only aliases.”

“You would avoid everyone with an alias that you did not help them create, and keep them from unknown aliases.”

Dick snapped his fingers. “Exactly. That’s what this sister, what are we calling her?”

“Her alias is Ladybug.”

“Yes, that is what Ladybug was going through before Aquaman made contact.”

Damian was quiet for a moment. “She must be on edge.”

Dick nodded at that. “She probably is.”

Damian furrowed his brow. “Do you think the League would allow me to contact her and end our agreement?”

Dick rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure, but we can try.”

“… And if they refuse?”

“Then we find another way. We’re Bats,” Dick reassured Damian. He just hoped the missing members weren’t doing anything too rash…

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

Marinette made a (painful) decision. Adrien and her would swap miraculouses—at least until there were less pings on her sites from Gotham. For added protection, she kept the Mouse miraculous on. Chatte Noire was less known, and she doubted Wonder Woman or Aquaman informed Batman about the miraculous of Creation and Destruction’s particular… refusal to let anyone but a pair chosen together to wield them at any point.

Chatte Noire would only be on call for a day or so… what’s the worst that can happen?

--------

the characters are jinxing themselves, and procrastinating the (vague) plot of Shenanigans. i swear.

if anyone can message me on how to add in a read more, that’d be great since i know these can get long to scroll past for mobile users.

@heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace @jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04 @laurcad123

#maribat #bio!dad bruce #marinette did not sign up for this #part 4 #long post #my writing #i hate formatting #how do i tag

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pleasant-boi · 4 years

Text

More stuff about this ShuAkeSumi royalty AU

I'm torn between a) Akira used to be training to be a Knight and b) being the son of some short of shorta high ranking people in some lesser noble's court

Anyway he still defends a woman from getting assaulted (maybe not by Shido this time since he's the king, but someone really high ranking or Shido in an incognito trip for some reason)

So he becomes disgraced and leaves his town to live in the capital - more like runs away to avoid getting jailed for life/executed and hide better in the crowds.

It happens a few years earlier than 'canon' (when he's around 14-15) so he has some time on the road and to properly live in the capital/bond with everyone in the pts.

I'm thinking of using the little Akira/Ren thing too. Like maybe his given name is Ren but after everything he changes it to Akira to cover his identity or vice versa.

Anyway, he works odd jobs here and there and ends up working for Sojiro for a while, who ends up taking him in the store's attic, because at that point Akira is basically homeless and penniless, floating around, but is hard working and has a heart of gold and Sojiro is a big softie deep down and can't let him suffer on his own like that.

Futaba's also staying with him after her mom's death and she slowly opens up to Akira and the pts

Her mom used to be the royal alchemist/engineer.

She was getting too close to uncovering Shido's conspiracy and her experiments where getting too dangerous if she wasn't fully loyal to him so Shido had her killed.

I kinda like the human experimentation route for Akechi and Wakaba, so I'm thinking maybe she did some experiments with magic too, Shido offering Akechi as a source of magic and her refusing to take it too far even if it may have made his power stronger?

So Shido had Akechi kill her, telling him she knew about the dark magic (he used only the light one in the experiments) and she wanted to use him as a lab rat and dissect/torture him, and really he's doing him a favour by "letting" him kill her, just to make sure he still has control over him and Akechi is afraid of going outside of his "protection"

Anyway back to the shippy stuff - our trio get into a lot of dates (that it's mostly just laying down somewhere for a few hours and talking)

They all kind of open up about themselves

Sumire having the pressure of performing now that her sister - who was always better than her - is gone and how since it's a traveling troupe she doesn't want to be a burden and ruin their livehoods by not performing as well, about how she wants to be strong like her but she can't, how she hates herself for being responsible for her sister's death (no Maruki in this sorry if you like him but I really hate his whole thing with Sumire aghssb maybe he makes a cameo as a friendly person ™ or a friendly scholar who gives the group friendly advice)

Akira about how defending an innocent woman caused him to get thrown out and having to fight to survive until Sojiro took him in and about how grateful he is for everyone he's met here and what he's learned.

Akechi... Doesn't tell them his true identity. He tells them about his mom, how she killed herself, how he now "works" for some piece of shit that makes his life a living hell but he can't get away.

Akira presses a little for a name but Akechi insists it's not that bad and besides he's used to it.

Anyway - a festival is coming up and they end up going there together.

Akechi knowing, technically speaking, how to dance, but only traditional ballroom dancing stuff and never even liking it or being particularly good anyway. He could vaguely remember those festivals from his childhood but it wasn't like he and his mom went to anyway, since they were never particularly liked, her being a whore with a bastard child. (Maybe she had more work during festivals too, leaving him alone for basically days)

Akira and Sumire roping him into joining them.

He's nervous and clumsy and afraid of making mistakes, but they just laugh it off, ignore any times he steps on them and he ends up actually relaxing and having fun.

They end up in an inn, in a table in the corner, drinking and laughing, listening to the live music.

I was thinking maybe it's a foreign language and Akira and Sumire try to translate/flirt clumsily, since it is a love songs and well they do know some foreign languages, with Akira having a somewhat good upbringing and Sumire having travelled so much and Akechi is supposed to be just a commoner.

Meanwhile Akechi, who had to learn like 5 foreign languages for diplomatic reasons, is very amused by their attempts at translation and internally screaming because he really wants to be a smug little shit and correct them but he can't risk blowing his cover.

A friend said this AU reminds her of tangled so there's a fucking latern scene because it is still peak romance.

Not in a boat but maybe they've climbed on some roof? Or at the outer walls of the city, looking out at the seemingly endless horizon.

They (almost) have their first kiss there.

#persona 5 #goro akechi #akira kusuru #yoshizawa sumire #shuakesumi #wacky au hours

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rayne-storm · 3 years

Text

AUgust 14 - Chefs

Title: WENN LIEBE IN DIR IST… UND GUTES ESSEN

Fandom: Tanz Der Vampyr

Alfred/Herbert, Graf/Sarah

This is my favourite musical. Straight up. You cannot get better than this. Maybe "Master and Margarita" but I haven't found a good bootleg of it.

I really hope you guys like this one!!!

Oh, there they were again. That damned truck with it's bombastic orchestral music, the catchy paintings, and the obnoxious sign boy. Alfred knew they were doing this on purpose, parking there because they knew how much it pissed off the staff of his own restaurant. Sure, it wasn't really "his" restaurant. It really belonged to Abronsius, the eclectic perfectionist who taught him everything.

And there the sign boy went, platinum hair flowing ever so delicately on the wind. He chatted up anyone that came by, and of course the mesh shirt mixed with the weird cape thing only made the spectacle that much more intriguing.

Alfred must have been glaring for too long because the blond eventually turned and winked straight at him through the window.

Damnit!

His face must have turned red because Abronsius asked him what was wrong, and he quickly made up some excuse about the heat before going back into the kitchen.

"You know," Sarah - the newest pastry chef - whispered, "their food's really good, and the sign dancer guy is single~" she teased.

Alfred felt his face pucker like he'd eaten a lemon.

Yes, the man was attractive, but from what Abronsius had said, they were all bad sorts there. But… well… whatever. Whatever. He had soups to make.

---

Three nights later. They were back. He had the evening off. Fuck. He was pissed. Abronsius had denied him a raise again. He shouldn't have been surprised, but if always stung when he was educated on exactly why he wasn't worth an extra two dollars an hour.

He knew he was young, sure, but he wasn't stupid or incompetent, he didn't have wrong priorities. He wasn't any of the things that stodgy old bastard said. And all he had wanted was two (2) more dollars. It wouldn't have even made him the highest paid (even discounting the profits he knew the old asshole was keeping).

So he wanted to make the man upset. As the sounds of Tchaikovsky drifted towards him, he couldn't help smirking. He hoped Abronsius was watching. Hoped Abronsius saw him ordering off the competition's menu, and he fully planned on eating right outside the restaurant, in full view from the large glass windows.

"Well hello there, finally come to see what all the fuss is about?"

Alfred nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn't heard anyone approaching, but there he was: the sign guy. Blond haired, pale skinned, and just, umf, fucking beautiful.

Alfred felt his heart rate increase just from the sheer proximity.

"I-I-I, uhm, yeah. Uh, m-mostly, well, I, uh, wanted to p-piss off my boss."

Real smooth, dipshit!

Sarah was right. He was hopeless.

The guy grinned and, of all things, kissed his hand.

"Well, I'm glad you did. I thought I might have to venture into that tacky place to properly say hello."

Alfred honestly didn't disagree. The restaurant was called Knoblauch, which just meant "garlic" and the interior was kind of gaudy. Not that he would have ever dared say so.

"I, uh- wait. You wanted to see me?"

"Every day since I first spotted your adorable pout, yes."

It was effortless the way this guy flirted and Alfred was just getting more and more shy.

"I'm… um… that's sweet. Thanks."

"So did Sarah get you to take a look? She's been very chatty about you, you know."

Ah fuck.

"I, uh, I mean, maybe I guess, but, uh-"

"She says you're a single hopeless romantic, and I really hope she's right," the man interrupted, and whoops, there went Alfred's ability to speak anything but flustered gibberish entirely.

The man leaned down and grinned.

"My name's Herbert von Krolock. What's yours?"

Oh, Alfred knew this man knew, but he couldn't help answering anyway, stuttering it out.

Herbert grinned. "You're so cute! Do you wanna have dinner with me? Now?"

"U-u-uh, um, I mean, uh, I…. Yes…?"

Herbert took his hands (both of them, like this was some kinda romcom), and led him over to the side of the food truck, music playing louder there, and the magnificent frescoes truly visible. They were gothic scenes, dark balls. Alfred couldn't help liking them, for whatever reason.

Then another beautiful man appeared, pale and salt-and-pepper tied in a neat bun.

"Oh, the boy finally came. What shall we have tonight?"

Herbert smiled and nudged Alfred, who realized in a panic he had no idea what kind of food they even sold. The man seemed to take pity on him, luckily.

"Let's start you with a sampler, then. I know it's a wide variety… I'm glad you stopped by. Sarah speaks highly of you," he added with a small smile.

If he survived this Sarah was getting the bougiest fucking brunch ever.

Hebert led him to a small table over to the side to wait.

"You know, Graf is head over heels for her, but he's afraid his age will put her off," the blond murmured conspiratorially.

Alfred couldn't help snorting softly.

"She has a thing for older guys, actually. He should go for it."

Herbert grinned brightly. "I'll try to let him know that…"

Alfred couldn't help smiling. Was it something in the air? Who knew? He just… was having the best night he'd had in a long time.

The food was ready and Herbert got it, stopping only briefly to greet visitors. Alfred was a little surprised, since he always seemed so sociable before, inviting people in.

"What's the look for, hmm?"

Alfred was startled again by the quietness of Herbert's steps.

"O-oh! Nothing, really. Just… you always seem so chatty when…"

"When you spy on me from your little restaurant? I am. But tonight I'm on a date with a very cute guy, and he gets all my attention."

Alfred once again lost all coherence, nibbling at a strawberry to hide his sheepishness.

Herbert just chuckled, and began telling him about the food truck.

Graf (the owner, Mr. Sexy Older Guy) had taught himself to cook after dealing with a very hard childhood, and one day he decided he would take his knowledge out and feed others. He quickly became popular as a caterer at parties, the rich-people kind, like masquerade balls and that kinda thing.

He still did them sometimes. But his true love lay in cooking for the masses, it seemed, out on the street, in parks, at games. He decided to take the Balls and Parties with him.

"That's… really cool," Alfred admitted.

"Yeah? I think so. But we might have to give it up… he's thinking of doing a world tour in his golden years," Herbert began with a wry smirk, "as though he ever plans on retiring… but he wants an apprentice. I'm no good at anything except cold foods and people-pleasing…"

Alfred sighed and shook his head. Just his luck. He found a new favourite place and they were closing.

"I mean, you seem pretty good at what you do…" Herbert added suggestively.

"Wait, wait, what? Me?"

"Yeah. You. You're not the only one that spies from time to time. You seem really passionate about food. And fast. And competent in general."

Everything that Abronsius berated him for not being.

"I… is this all just a ploy? To poach from the competition?" He asked, stiffening. It was one thing to be all flirty and friendly, an entirely other thing to-

"What? No. Of course not! I'm not so shallow I'd do that."

Herbert looked genuinely hurt and offended. Fuck.

"I… I… I'm sorry it's just… I'm pretty often reminded that I'm a young, stupid know-nothing that'll never make it on my own and all…" Alfred muttered bitterly.

"That old hack doesn't know what he's talking about."

Graf's voice came from nowhere, and you know what? Alfred could live in a state of permanent heart-attacks. That was fine.

"What? You know him?"

"That pompous blowhard is the reason I never went to culinary school. Way back when, he made everyone's life hell because it had to be his way or nothing, because he knew how to cook 'properly' and we knew nothing."

"....so I take it he hasn't changed much."

"Nope. Almost ruined food for me. I decided I'd never go through anything that would turn me into a rude monster like that."

"Well, I'm quitting tomorrow, so I don't blame you."

Graf chuckled. "Why bother with that courtesy? Just come work for me. Rub it in his face. Bring the girl too. Take his two best kids from him."

Yeah. That… that sounded good.

"You know what? I think I will. If you'll excuse me, I have a call to make."

He walked over to the other side of the truck, a little ways away, where he could look in and see the kitchen. And there was Sarah, flinching at something the old bastard was saying.

He called her number.

He almost couldn't believe it when she picked up.

"Look outside," he directed. She did, and gave him a wave and a bright smile.

"How do you like it?!”

"So much I'm gonna work here. I quit. You should too. They asked for you by name."

"Say no more."

She hung up, and without further ado completely stripped off her uniform, leaving her in a sports bra and leggings (cause let's be real it got fucking hot in that kitchen sometimes), and she just sauntered on out.

Herbert started laughing, and Alfred turned just in time to see the look on Graf's face as his dulcet darling was strutting over.

"So, you want to give a recently unemployed girl a job?" She asked with a bright smile.

Alfred was glad he wasn't the only one who sometimes forgot how to speak.

Herbert took over, and the pair quickly bantered a deal, and Alfred just took a minute to watch.

They looked good, all together like that. Almost like a family.

Of course, then Herbert glanced up at him, and gave him another of those heart-stopping winks.

Well.

Carpe noctem and all that.

#my writing #rayne writes #au-gust #au gust 2021 #fanfic #tanz der vampire

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