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specialagentsergio · 3 years

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rationalizations

rationalizations: a defense mechanism in which one makes up a false but reassuring explanation to explain their behavior and/or feelings to both themselves and others, thus avoiding the reality of why they are really acting or feeling as they do.

summary: You’re the psych evaluation for Spencer. You think he’s full of shit, so you refuse to sign his clearance form until he actually tells the truth.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

category: angst (happy ending)

content warnings: spencer’s canonical trauma, flashbacks, mentions of suicide and suicidal ideation, swearing

a/n: i wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins‘ enemies to lovers event. it’s not my favorite trope, but one of the prompts sparked inspiration for me. i also took a good amount of inspiration from meredith’s various therapy scenes in grey’s anatomy, so if some of it feels familiar, that’s why! i swear i intended to make this cute and funny, but, well… here we are lmao.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

Spencer throws his bag onto his desk with a frustrated huff. It thumps loudly, startling JJ at her desk across from his. She gives him a sympathetic look regardless. “Still not cleared yet?”

“No!” Forgetting that it’s wheeled, he drops himself into his chair. It skids backwards and he has to scramble to grab something to keep from falling out of it.

“Careful there,” JJ says, trying valiantly to suppress a laugh. “That psychologist's got you really worked up, huh?”

“I don’t know what she wants from me!” he complains. “It’s been nearly a month! Hotch’s ex-wife was murdered by an unsub, but they cleared him. I was only shot in the neck.”

“I mean, that’s still kind of a big deal,” she says. “You could’ve died, from the gunshot, or from the nurse that tried to kill you afterwards.”

“Speaking of that nurse,” he starts, “Garcia is the one who shot him and she’s been a wreck over it. She insisted on going to the guy’s execution. But the therapist cleared her!”

“Penelope’s not in the field,” JJ points out.

He crosses his arms. “Still. This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot. That possibility is part of the job. It’s not like it came out of nowhere and I was completely unprepared for it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Spence,” she says. “Just keep all of your appointments and I’m sure you’ll be cleared soon.”

He pulls a stack of papers on his desk towards him. Paperwork—one of the things he’s actually allowed to do. “I better be,” he mutters.

---

“And it was really scary, you know?” Spencer wipes at his eyes with a tissue. “Not knowing if I was going to live or die.”

“Mm-hmm.”

He takes a deep breath. “But… it’s over now. The preacher who shot me died in the same shootout. Owen McGregor, the leader of the corrupt deputies, died later that night, in another shootout. And Greg Baylor, the one who posed as a nurse and tried to kill me, was sentenced to death row and he’s gone now, too.”

His psychologist makes a note on the paper in front of her, but doesn’t say anything, so he continues.

“I… I feel better now, just letting that out.” He takes a new tissue and dries his nose. “I feel ready now. Ready to go back to work.”

She nods slowly, considering him. But she doesn’t even look towards her desk where the clearance form sits, frustrating him to no end. After five minutes of silence, he breaks.

“You can’t be serious.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’ve been coming to these sessions for over a month, and I’m still not cleared to be in the field. I…” He musters up more tears and makes sure his voice wavers during his next words. “I just don’t know what you want? I’ve tried everything.”

“No, you haven’t,” she says plainly.

He blinks in surprise, sending some of the crocodile tears down his cheeks. “What?”

She crosses her legs. “You’re full of shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not being honest with me, and I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself either,” she says. “You’re a great actor. I can see how you’ve gotten clearances easily before. But that stops with me.”

Spencer stares at her. “I don’t understand.”

She moves her notebook to the side. “What happened in Texas isn’t the first time your life’s been in danger. Why do you think that is?”

“Wh—that’s part of my job,” he argues, fake crying long since forgotten.

“Not to the extent that you take it. I’ve read your file,” she says. “You take unnecessary risks with regularity.”

The tissues crumple in his hand as he clenches it. “I do not.”

“Let’s go back to the beginning.”

“The beginning of what?”

“Of your career.” Yet she doesn’t take out his file, or look at her notes. She speaks from memory. “2005. The BAU is assisting with a hostage situation. You go into the train, posing as someone who is there to remove a microchip from the unsub, but the first thing you do? You take off your bulletproof vest.”

“Okay, clearly you don’t understand what the situation was,” Spencer cuts in. “Ted Bryar was suffering from a psychotic break. He was somewhat unpredictable, and he told me to take off the vest.”

“And you just listened?”

“He—he had a gun, and was threatening both me and the other passengers with it!” he says. “What was I supposed to do, not listen?”

“Uh, yeah,” she replies. “You easily played into his delusions just a few minutes later to distract him. Why not do that to keep yourself safe?”

“I was twenty-four and was running on adrenaline,” he says defensively. “And it was my first time doing something like that. You can’t expect me to think of everything.”

“You’re right, I can’t,” she agrees. “So let’s jump forward a few years. How about the time you approached a teenager who was wielding an assault rifle with no protection, not even your own firearm?” she challenges.

“You mean Owen Savage? That was a unique situation,” he protests. “I knew I could talk him down.”

“No, you didn’t. You thought you had a good chance, but there’s no way to be one hundred percent sure of that. He was volatile, and on a killing spree,” she counters. “You didn’t know if you’d succeed--”

“I did!” He startles himself by unconsciously raising his voice, but he doesn’t apologize. “I did, because….”

“Because you related to him,” she fills in. “And that’s fine. Having empathy for an unsub doesn’t suggest something’s wrong in and of itself. But you still put yourself, and the rest of your team, in danger, didn’t you?”

He crosses his arms. “I got that lecture from Hotch when it happened, okay?”

“So then why’d you confront an unsub alone a few years later in Miami?” she asks. “You didn’t even tell anyone where you were going. You left your vest behind and just ran off.”

“I was having a head—wait, how do you even know that happened?” he questions. “It wasn’t in the report.”

“Well, first of all, you just confirmed it,” she points out, and he wants to kick himself. “Secondly, I can read between the lines.”

“I was having a headache,” he repeats. “I wasn’t thinking all that clearly. I just knew Julio’s life was in immediate danger, so I went to help him.”

“Uh-huh. More recently,” she says, brushing past his excuse, “You confronted your girlfriend’s stalker without your vest or gun.”

Spencer’s getting angry now. “I was trying to save Maeve. She asked me to leave them behind.”

“And you simply listened. Do you see the pattern I’m drawing here, Dr. Reid?” she asks. “These are just a few of the instances that stand out. Time and time again, you put yourself in unnecessary danger. So I’ll ask you again. Why do you think that is?”

Spencer looks over her—really looks over her, trying to understand what she’s getting at. “Are… are you suggesting that I’m suicidal?” he asks quietly.

She looks him straight in the eye. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

It’s like she set off a bomb in his brain. Memories, and the feelings attached to them, emerge—Elle handcuffed to a seat, a teenager with a rifle, a blinding headache, Maeve and blood on the warehouse floor.

“Here’s what I see,” she says. “I see a man who’s been through so, so much. Your mother is mentally ill, your father left--”

His father is packing a suitcase. Spencer doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say, so he falls back on what he knows.

“Statistically, children who grow up in two-parent households attain three more years of higher education than children from single-parent households.”

It doesn’t help. “We’re not statistics, Spencer.”

“Your file says she’s staying at an institution, and with your father out of the picture, I can only assume you were the one who had her admitted--”

“Spencer, please don’t do this to me!” she cries as she’s escorted out of the house by Bennington Sanitarium’s transport staff.

“A few years into your work here at the FBI, you were kidnapped, tortured and drugged--”

He’s tired and cold and his whole body aches. Tobias—the real Tobias—looms over him with a syringe.

“Please. I don’t want it,” he pleads of his captor. “I don’t want it, please.”

The needle punctures his skin regardless.

“—you were held hostage by a cult leader--”

Emily sits across from him on the plane with a black eye. “What Cyrus did to me is not your fault.”

He pretends to agree.

“—you went through the death and reappearance of Agent Prentiss--”

He’s tried to make it clear to Jennifer that he wants to be left alone, but she won’t stop trying to talk about it with him, and he’s had enough.

“I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

“—and your girlfriend was shot in front of you.”

“Who’s Thomas Merton? Who is he?” Diane demands, gun pressed against Maeve’s head.

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us,” Maeve replies, and Spencer’s heart drops. Thomas Merton is Maeve’s way of saying goodbye—she’s giving up.

“Wait!” he cries out, but it’s too late.

“This is just some of the more traumatic stuff. And then there’s what happened last month, which is why you’re here. You present a face of not being bothered by all of this, because that’s what you’ve been doing all your life, but I think you are bothered. You really, really are. And you don’t want to admit to anyone just how much it all has affected you. Maybe you don’t even want yourself to know.” Her expression and tone of voice are certain.

Spencer can’t take it anymore. The whirlwind of emotions and memories is overwhelming.

“The number of times you’ve almost died is staggering--”

“Yeah, and sometimes I wish I had!” He glares at her, breathing heavily. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

But she doesn’t seem intimidated or alarmed at all. She leans back in her armchair. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

The response only serves to make him angrier. She questioned him relentlessly and made him admit something he swore in the dark hours of sleepless nights that he’d never think again, never voice, let alone admit to anyone. She forced it out of him, forced. She made him say it against his will.

So why does he feel a sense of relief?

“I…” Tears well up in his eyes—real ones this time. “I’m done,” he chokes out.

He pushes himself off of the couch and out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

---

He storms in Hotch’s office and demands to see a different psychologist. But she was one step ahead of him—a few hours before the appointment, she had emailed Hotch and told him that under no circumstances should Spencer be allowed to get a clearance from someone else.

“And you’re going to believe her?” he cries.

“She’s doing her job, Reid.”

“You barely know her! You’ve known me for a decade!”

“Yes, I have,” Hotch agrees. “And you’ve told me yourself that you’ve fooled psychologists and therapists before. So if this one is saying you’re not ready yet, I’m inclined to believe her.”

Spencer just stares at him, but as usual, Hotch doesn’t blink.

“Unbelievable,” Spencer eventually mutters.

“Take the rest of the day off,” Hotch replies, glancing down at fists Spencer hadn’t realized he was clenching.

“Fine.”

Too agitated to stand in the elevator, he takes the stairs. As he stomps down them, he swears he’ll never go back to her office, even if it means never going into the field again.

A week passes, then two, and he hasn’t seen the psychologist since. But he doesn’t feel any better—he actually feels worse. It’s like her words broke a dam in his mind, in his gut, and feelings of unease and uncertainty won’t pass. It keeps him up at night. Her words echo in his head. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

Spencer’s had yet another sleepless night and is struggling not to doze off at his desk despite the coffee he’s drinking. He stands up with the intention of splashing some water from the bathroom sink on his face, but his feet take him somewhere else.

He stares at the nameplate on the door. He swore he’d never go back, yet he feels compelled to knock.

It only takes her a few moments to answer. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?” she asks.

“I…” He sighs. “Are you busy?”

“No. Come on in.” She steps to the side, opening the door wider to let him pass. He sits down on the couch.

She waits patiently. She doesn’t rush him. She lets him speak first.

He wrings his hands in his lap, staring down at them. “Something you said is bothering me.”

“What was it?”

“About… living,” he admits quietly. “I… I think you might have been right.”

When he gets the courage to glance up at her, he finds a soft smile on her face. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Spencer hadn’t realized he was expecting judgment and disdain until it didn’t happen. His shoulders slump down in relief. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I think I would.”

---

“You’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?”

Spencer looks up from his paperwork, slightly out of it, to find Derek watching him. His coworker had, indeed, caught him thinking about her again. His psychologist. Well, former psychologist. After his second session back with her, she’d handed over a clearance form and a referral to a therapist outside the bureau to see long-term.

“And you better follow up with that,” she’d told him, the corner of her mouth turning up despite her serious tone of voice. “I’ll know if you don’t.”

He’d promised that he would, and had followed through. But despite the progress he was making with the new therapist, he was feeling a little disappointed that he didn’t get to see her anymore. He only saw her in passing, sometimes in the elevator or walking down the hallways of the building. They would exchange hellos, she would ask how he was doing, then give him a little wave as she left. Each time his heart would skip a beat, and he’d feel an urge to follow her to wherever she was going.

Yet he hadn’t quite realized why he seemed to be preoccupied with her until a dream he had a few weeks ago—a dream in which he found himself kissing her. Despite being alone in his bedroom, he’d woken up feeling embarrassed. He promised himself that he would put her out of his mind. Having a crush on his psychologist? It was ridiculous.

But then he saw her in the elevator a few days later and he couldn’t help but analyze her body language. It was open, and she twirled her hair around a finger while she looked at him to ask him how he was. A few other people entered the elevator on the next floor, but her attention remained on him. They were subtle signs, but signs that he recognized nonetheless—signs of attraction. And once he started seeing them, he couldn’t stop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spencer tells Derek, picking back up the pen he hadn’t noticed he dropped.

“You can’t pull that on me, kid,” he replies. “It’s your psychologist. You can’t stop thinking about her, can you?”

Spencer sighs. “So what if I can’t?”

“So go ask her out already!” Derek says like it’s obvious.

“You don’t think that’s just a little inappropriate?”

“You’re not seeing her as a client anymore, are you?” he points out. “Go for it, kid. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Spencer takes the advice—as soon as Derek said it, he knew he was right. He would regret not taking a chance on her and the connection he felt. Sure, she’d helped him with therapy, but it went deeper than that. It feels like she knows him.

He leaves the bullpen ten minutes early that evening, hoping to catch her before she leaves for the day. On her doorstep, he feels just as nervous as he did on the day he admitted that she was right, but it’s a different kind of nervous. An excited nervous. He knocks on the door.

She’s surprised when she seems him. He watches as her pupils dilate, and it boosts his confidence. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?”

“You can. I’d like to talk,” he says.

“Oh. Well, I guess I could do that,” she says. “I thought things were going well with the therapist I referred you to, though.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t mean I want an appointment.”

Her eyebrows come together in confusion. “Okay, then, what do you want?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “I want to take you out to dinner.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I really like you, and I think we’re meant to be together,” he replies, voice softening a bit.

She pauses before answering. When she does, her voice is gentle. “Dr. Reid, sometimes a medical professional’s care can start to feel like affection over a period of time, but--”

“No one has ever listened to me like you do,” he interrupts.

“That’s my job,” she points out.

“I’ve seen therapists before, but none of them have been like you,” he counters. “You understand me.”

She sighs. “Well, I’m glad I was a good fit and was able to help you. But that doesn’t mean that I see you as anything more than a client.”

“You’re lying.”

“Excuse me?”

“You do feel something more for me,” he says firmly, but then backtracks a little. “Well, I know you’re attracted to me at least.”

She blinks and shakes her head slightly, take aback. “Dr. Reid, this is not appropriate--”

“Please call me Spencer,” he says, then jumps into his explanation. “See, when we’re attracted to someone, our bodies display involuntary signals, and I’ve seen you do some of them when you’re around me. Whenever we run into each other here, your body will turn a little towards me and you’ll play with your hair. Your attention is almost entirely focused on me. And, when you see me, your pupils dilate. They did it when you opened the door just a few minutes ago. Oh, and I’m attracted to you, by the way,” he adds as he realizes how one-sided he’s been. “I imagine my pupils probably dilate when I see you, too.”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times, like she wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say. She looks flustered, and he wonders if maybe he’s pushed it too far or said too much, but he can’t turn back now. “So, please, let me take you out,” he says quietly. “Just… just give it a chance.”

She bites her lip and looks at the ground. There’s a crease between her eyebrows, which he’s come to learn means she’s thinking. She speaks seriously when she looks back up. “If I go out with you, I can’t treat you anymore. If you ever need another evaluation or session, you’d have to get it from someone else.”

“I know,” he says. “I get along well with the therapist you referred me to, though. And having to get clearance from a different psychologist at the bureau is something I’m willing to give up in favor of getting to know you better.”

She considers him. “You’re serious about this,” she states.

It’s not a question, but he answers it anyways. “I am.”

She tilts her head to the side, eyes unfocusing as she ponders the situation. Eventually, she says, “Let me think about it.”

It’s not exactly the answer he was hoping for, but he’ll take it.

---

It’s only six PM, but Spencer is already exhausted. He unlocks his apartment door, fully intending to collapse onto his bed, but instead receives a pleasant surprise in the form of his girlfriend waiting for him on the couch. He can’t help but smile.

“Sweetie, what are you doing here?” he asks, then adds, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Penelope told me it was a bit of a rough case,” she replies. “And I missed you.”

She holds out her arms and he takes the invitation, joining her on the couch and laying down between her legs, placing his head on her chest. “I missed you, too.”

Her next words are overly familiar. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Hey, we agreed to no therapy,” he says. “Something about I can’t be your client anymore?”

She huffs. “This isn’t therapy. This is being a good partner.”

Spencer smiles into the fabric of her shirt, snuggling in closer. “I know, I’m just teasing you. I don’t need to talk about the case,” he says, finally answering her original question. “I feel fine now that I’m here with you.”

She lets out a pleased hum and starts running her fingers through his hair. “I ordered take-out for dinner, by the way.”

“Where from?”

“You know where.”

A wide grin spreads across his face. She must have ordered take-out from the restaurant he took her to on their first date. He lifts his head to look her in the eye. “Aren’t you glad you said yes to me all those months ago?”

“Oh, I suppose,” she says with pretend annoyance, rolling her eyes.

Then she kisses him.

Spencer’s never been so happy to be alive.

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

tell me what you thought here!

please note that i DO NOT ENDORSE asking out your therapist/former therapist. this is fanfiction. thank you.

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor , @spencerreid9

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid #angst #my fic #i just cannot stop myself from writing about mental health issues and treatment can i

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oohnoniall · 3 years

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Hawk & Sparrow [Rowan Whitethorn x OC] - Chapter 2

WARNINGS; Fantasy violence, cursing, Mirima doesn’t have self-control and that leads to her burning out a Lot, Rowan avoiding his feelings, Mirima having no idea about her feelings, there’s a lot of feelings being avoided, power dynamics in the relationship.

Prologue.

Chapter 1

A crooked smile stretched on his lips. She could see his sharp canine teeth, see the feral look in his eyes as he peered down at her. There was a bite of cold steel against the tender flesh of her neck. She could feel it digging into her pulse point. The coppery tang of blood in the air.

"I was right," his voice was a whisper. "You weren't good enough. You've never been good enough."

"Rowan," she hated the pleading tone in her voice. Hated the way her eyes burned with tears that she refused to shed.

His forest green eyes peered into hers, a look of malice and something else. She hated it, hated to know that Rowan was looking at her with anything other than his normal cool indifference. This wasn't her Rowan. Not the man who had pushed her and pushed her but a monster that she didn't know.

"Goodbye Mirima."

There was a hot stinging sensation at her throat, his hands on her shoulders like when she was burning out. He shoved her and she fell. Over and over, falling down into the darkest abyss. One that she couldn't see the bottom of.

It was then that she realized what else had been in Rowan's eyes when she had pleaded with him. When he had killed her.

Joy.

Mirima shot up from her bed, gasping for breath as her left hand went to her throat. Nothing. No blood. She wasn't falling off the edge of something. She was still alive. Still in Doranelle, waiting for her one and only opportunity.

The nightmares had been happening more often. She hadn't spoken to Rowan about them. Hadn't wanted to bother him with how useless they were. He would have been too concerned or acted like they were another reason to keep her out of the cadre. He wouldn't have been kind or understanding. Hardass Whitethorn would have been annoyed. Yet, for some reason, the knowledge had calmed her. She didn't feel as though she had to say anything about her problems.

His training was harsh enough that she often forgot whatever was bothering her besides what muscle hurt the worst.

How was she going to deal with any of it while he was away? She had never had to train with someone else. Never had to think about how someone's training might differ from Rowan's.

She had met Fenyrs in passing but that didn't mean she knew him. She thought he was funny and much kinder than Rowan, which wasn't saying much, but she doubted his training would be anything like what she was used to. There was a high chance that he wouldn't know how ... Prone she was to overdoing things. What if Rowan had left that key information out?

Mirima tried not to focus on her anxieties as she readied herself for the day. Her hands were shaking as she brushed out the white blonde of her hair. Her eyes focused on the scar on her left arm as she slid her tunic on, counting each breath as she stared at it. One of the ways Rowan had tried to teach her control. One of the ways that had only worked to calm her mind and not her magic.

She would end up dying by her magic. It would drown her, it would take her under and never release her from its grasp. She didn't mind that. If she was going to die she wanted it to be from her lack of control rather than an enemies' sword. If only so she knew she wasn't a completely hopeless fighter.

She swallowed once, letting it take all of her worries into the pit of her stomach. Another technique of Rowan's that had never actually done more than making her feel stupid. She sometimes wondered if all his techniques were just ways to make her look like a fool.

Mirima slipped a few knives into her belt before making her way out of her bedroom. Her head held high, a haughty smirk on her lips. Everyone in Mistward was used to seeing her as the cocky would-be-warrior. There had never been a reason to let anyone see her differently.

The morning sun had yet to rise over the hills. The clearing that was normally used for her training was flooded with the grey light of early dawn. Before the world changed and turned into something beautiful, something better. The grass was dewy and wet, the world looked as though it had been reborn that morning.

Mirima loved being out there before anyone else. She loved it when she could breathe in the fresh air and not worry about it being polluted by other people yet. Everything felt fresh, clear. She could clear her mind for once. Let go of everything that bothered her. She didn't worry about not being part of the cadre when she was focused on how beautiful the morning looked, how she wanted nothing more than to just be present.

She took one of the knives from her belt, flipping it once in her hand. It was a perfect weight. She could balance it on the tip of her fingers. Rowan had given it to her years ago, on a birthday. One that he'd actually remembered.

The blade itself was made of steel and was almost as long as her forearm, just lacking an inch and a half. The hilt was the most stunning feature. Gold and onyx entwined to create small flowers with tiny rubies making up the center of each. Rowan had said nothing when he gave it to her but she liked to think that it had just reminded him of her in some way. Wishful thinking but Mirima didn't care.

She had to be making some impression on Rowan.

She gripped the knife, her hold mimicking the one Rowan had been trying to drill into her head for years. He often grew frustrated with the way she would go back to what felt natural, showing her just how wrong she was with a sharp tap on her wrist. At that point, she was certain that she was fucking it up if only to see the annoyance in his eyes. She liked that look on him. When he regretted ever giving Mirima a chance when he debated throwing her in a lake because of her mouth.

It was better than when he was fully angry with her.

Her body moved in the fluid motions that Rowan had taught her. Her eyes closing, her knife another part of her arm, her breaths even, the world right for once in her life. Her thoughts were no longer cluttered, just going through Rowan's instructions in her mind had been enough to calm her. She'd never tell him so. He would have been proud of himself or annoyed with her.

Up. Down. Guard your left. Right. Dodge. Roll. Again.

She heard his voice in her head almost as though he was standing right beside her. She relished the feeling, the sensation of knowing that she was doing something right. Something that she would do every single day of her life when she was in the cadre. She would have to thank him one day.

It just wouldn't be any time soon.

A low whistle brought her back to reality. She did not know how long he had been watching but she knew he had seen enough. Mirima straightened her spine, a smug look painted on her face as she turned on her heel.

Fenrys was more handsome than Rowan had ever dreamed of being. His hair was pulled up, with two strands falling pleasantly into his face. His skin was dark and he was slight of build, but the muscles on his arms were well-defined and she could imagine them in the middle of a killing field. While Rowan's face was covered with his tattoo, Fenrys' was mostly clear, his eyes sparkled with mischief and he looked as though he was part of an inside joke with himself.

Mirima hated how much she wanted to impress him. Hated how fun he seemed to be with just that one look.

"I don't see why I'm here," he stated as he peeled himself off of the tree he had been leaning against. "Rowan's got you training on your own already."

A slight blush crossed Mirima's cheeks at this. "Actually, he doesn't know how early I start my day. I didn't think he'd like knowing just how much I tend to ... overexert myself."

"Trust me, Rowan already knows everything that you do," Fenrys stated as he stepped towards her. His eyes trailed from the top of her head to her feet. He was scrutinizing everything that had ever made Mirima. She tried not to think if he was impressed by what he saw or if he was certain that she was useless. A waste of his and Rowan's time. She often feared that they would all see her as a fraud. As someone who would never be welcomed into their ranks. "Rowan's told us all about you. How quick you are to anger, how you refuse to listen to him and go home. He said you've had more burnouts than anyone he's ever met before.

"I know that he thinks you're reckless and that you don't have any sense of self-preservation," Fenrys walked around her, his eyes never once leaving her, as he spoke. There was a tension in him that she didn't expect. "I'm sure that he's found every single weakness of yours and used it against you at this point. Am I correct?"

She bristled at the accusation, her spine straighter than what should have been possible. "He has. Multiple times, in very different ways."

Something sparked in his eyes, something that she had seen once before. When she had looked in her mother's eyes before she had left to deal with the raiders all those years before. It was a mixture of pride and determination. Mirima had never been sure what it meant. She still wasn't.

"Good," Fenrys stopped circling her. "That tells me you don't scare easily. If you can handle quality time with Whitethorn, you're bound to be something. Perhaps not a fit for the cadre, but something we need."

Need. That one word brought forth a strong feeling of hope in her breast. She had never been told that she was needed before. Not for anything that mattered. Doranelle would need her. Maeve would need her. Hellas, even Rowan would need her if what Fenrys said was true. She was going to be exactly what they needed, who they would look up to. Mirima would be the hero that would be in all the stories. She'd show everyone just what a woman could do.

There had been warrior queens and lost princesses but there had never been someone that other girls could look up to. All her life, Mirima had heard tales of men gaining glory and victory. They saved damsels, fought wars in the name of what was true and just. Queen Maeve had always celebrated those men while ignoring the women who could do the exact same. She knew that she could be just as good as any of those men. She could rise up from the bottom and show just who a girl could be.

It was the only thing she'd ever wanted.

"However," Fenrys brought her back down to the world with just one word. "We do need to work on your control. Burning out in the middle of a battle will do you no good. We can't have our sister dying on her first outing."

He grinned at her. Not the feral dangerous grin that she had come to associate with Rowan. It was kind, bright even. Something that made her feel as though she were at home. She wondered what Rowan would say if she told him that she preferred Fenrys' smile. It was perhaps better to keep that conversation in her head.

"How do we do that?"

"Stand in the middle of the clearing," Fenrys instructed her, heading back to his tree. He sat down at the base of it, still and unblinking as though he were just another part of the forest that surrounded them. "I don't want you to do anything. Just stand there and listen. Take in every wingbeat of every insect, every beat of your heart. I want you to try and focus on your heartbeats while you're doing this. Slow, steady. You should be able to make yourself still."

Mirima looked at him for a moment. What in the hell did any of that mean? It sounded like nonsense. Focusing her heartbeats? Slowing them down? How was any of that supposed to help her with her control issues?

While she did question the whole thing, she knew better than to question her trainer. If he told Rowan, she was certain to have a punishment of some sort. Probably laps. Rowan knew how she hated them. She took a deep breath through her nose, disregarding her thoughts of Rowan Whitethorn and the laps he could potentially make her run.

Her eyes fluttered to a close. Every part of her body felt as though this was wrong. She shouldn't have just been standing there. She could have been working on her swordplay. She could have been working on the footwork that she was supposed to be learning. Listening for the bees that were fat with the pollen from the summer flowers was not something she had wanted to do. Why should she care about any of this? She was a warrior, not a farmer.

"Don't think negatively," his voice seemed to float through the air to her. "I can feel it from here. Just relax your mind and do as I've told you."

Mirima did not answer him, knowing it was not what he wanted. She focused on the sound of the wind in the trees. The way the leaves gently rustled together, the branches making a soft creaking noise that she normally wouldn't have noticed. She could hear the sea. So far away, yet always calling to her. The waves crashing along the shoreline. Pebbles scratching against each other when the water moved them. Sand turning to mush, the cry of a seabird. Mirima craved being there, craved feeling the water on her bare feet. Not a day went by that she didn't crave the ocean.

Her fingers twitched, her knife falling to the ground beside her. The water rushing in her ears and making it hard to hear the insects busying lazily by her head or the trees swaying gently in the breeze. Her heartbeat followed the motion of the waves. She could feel it slowing to match the lazy tide of the early morning. It was not an uncomfortable feeling but one that she welcomed.

She had often felt as though her home was the sea. The ocean breathed life into her. She had been blessed with the gift of water and yet, she still didn't know how to control it. Perhaps it was because one could not control water. The sea did not like to be tamed. Just as Mirima hated for anyone to try and control her. It had been so hard to learn to listen to Rowan. To learn to do as she was told. She still hadn't learned that lesson.

A voice spoke softly from somewhere. Her name, softly as though it was poetry. Rowan's face flashed briefly in her mind before being drowned out by another crashing wave.

Her fingers twitched once more. Something cold crept through the leather of her boots, touching her toes.

None of it mattered though. All that mattered was the way the sea was calling to her. The currents dancing for her and her alone. She wanted to be in the middle of it all. She could control the ocean. She could feel it in her bones. She ached to use the power that was deep inside of her. It was as though she could not breathe unless she was in the water, as if her lungs craved water instead of oxygen.

"Mirima," that voice again. Persistent this time. Repeating her name again and again. "Mirima."

"Rowan," she breathed out as a hand grasped her arm. It was not tight enough to be Rowan. It was loose, as though they were afraid of touching her.

"Mirima, come out of it." The voice didn't match Rowan's. Didn't match the person she had put all of her trust in.

It was too much effort to open her eyes, to break her connection to the sea. But she did it.

Fenrys stood in front of her, his hands on her arms and his face more amused than concerned. Her feet were freezing, the breeze smelled differently. The sky had begun to lighten, pink marking the sky in the place of the grey that had filled the valley just a few minutes before. Had it only been minutes? She felt as though she had been there for days.

Slowly, she glanced down to see what was causing her feet to be so cold. Water had seeped up from the ground, a few inches covering the ground that surrounded her. Mirima had no clue how she had done it without thinking. She had no idea what she had done.

Maybe Fenrys was right about something. Maybe his techniques just worked better than Rowan's.

"Well, you weren't supposed to do that," he said, one of his brows quirked upwards. "But I can't say I'm surprised. Maybe next time Rowan makes you do something stupid, you'll be able to channel it."

Mirima rolled her eyes, her arms crossing in front of her chest. "Rowan's training isn't stupid."

"You're making shields of water, aren't you?"

"Yes. But that's integral to keeping control!" Mirima protested. Fenrys only shook his head.

"We don't use our abilities as shields. Well, Lorcan does on occasion but Lorcan's also the worst," he stated as he led her away from the drenched grounds. "Rowan's trying to prepare you for something but I doubt it's the cadre. He has your interests in mind, don't think otherwise." She watched as he grabbed a low-hanging tree branch and hauled himself up. "But that doesn't mean he's going to actually help you get what you want. No one should strive to be one of us."

"What is with the two of you?" Mirima demanded as she hoisted herself to sit on the branch beside him. "It's like neither of you can deal with the idea that a woman can be just as good as you."

"This has nothing to do with your gender. You've got more fight inside of you than most soldiers I know," Fenrys stated as he looked at her. His expression was too full of pity for her to stand. "You could do so much better than all of this."

"No, I can't," Mirima stared out at the clearing, watching as the water drained away slowly. "My gender has everything to do with this. When they see me, they see a woman who should be at home. Having children and mending socks. They don't see a warrior. They don't see me."

He looked at her then, looked at her as though she was something other than a woman sitting beside him on a tree branch. It was an uncomfortable feeling. Mirima had never felt exposed before. Rowan certainly had never looked at her as though she were anything. Fenrys was making her quite anxious, scared that he would run back to the others and tell them all about the woman who assumed she was good enough to be welcomed into their ranks. She doubted any of them would find it within them to want her after her show.

"I should go," she cleared her throat as she moved to drop down from the tree. Mirima landed on the balls of her feet, the squelching sound revealing that the ground had turned to mud. "Kitchen duties."

Mirima did not wait to be released from her training. She turned on her heel and headed back to the fort. She spent the entire walk thinking over everything that Fenrys had seen, everything that he had heard. She was mortified. Speaking like that in front of Rowan was one thing. But Fenrys? That was another. She knew better than to speak her mind around her superiors. She knew better than to leave before her training was over. Yet she had done both. She'd never live this down. She'd just proven that she would never be the type of person they welcomed into their ranks. Fenrys had said they didn't want her.

What was the point of continuing to fight? What was the point of trying to be someone she wasn't? Would Rowan even notice if she was gone when he came back? She doubted it. He'd probably use her absence as an excuse to return home.

As the would-be-warrior walked away from him, Fenrys watched her closely. Even with the sting of humiliation, she never let her shoulders droop. Her hand remained on the hilt of her blade. Her head was held high, no one would ever be able to tell that she was spending her day questioning herself and her choices.

"I see you."

#rowan whitethorn #rowan x oc #rowan whitethorn x oc #rowan is running out of patience #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass oc #mirima floros #mirima is trying #soulmate #are they soulmates or are they both just depressed #fenrys moonbeam

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shadow-assassin-blix · 3 years

Text

It’s a Grey Area

CHAPTER 7

A/N: Okay... so. I kinda sped through a lot of the plot in ep 9, and changed some things obviously. Um. Next chapter will finish up ep 9 but the adventure shall continue. There is a character death. Umm. The dream sequence will make more sense eventually. That’s all for now! Enjoy!

Taglist: @mikeisthricedeceased (if you want to be added to list please lemme know)

About an hour had passed, and Poe woke up slowly. He turned his head to look down at Blix who was passed out on his chest. He smiled softly at her, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, before gingerly trying to move out from under her. He didn’t want to wake her up, so his movements had to be gentle.

Once he was up, he tucked the blanket firmly around her, and let her sleep some more. He made his way into the cockpit where Rey and Finn sat, talking lowly.

He takes his seat in the copilot and checks their position. They were approximately 30 minutes away from Kijimi.

“Blix still asleep?” Rey asked with a small yawn.

“Yeah. She hasn’t been sleeping well, so I try to let her get as much sleep as she can,” Poe explained checking the systems.

Blix was currently dreaming and the dreams… rapidly became confusing and terrifying.

*Dream*

Blix looked around trying to figure out where she was. She was on spaceship but couldn’t figure out what kind. She heard voices speaking.

“We are picking up lifeforms?”

“Where?”

“Scarif”

“That’s impossible, no one could’ve survived the Death Star destroying it,”

“Scarif was only half destroyed. It is possible”

The scenery changed. She saw her mother, at a table, crying. She held a photo in her hand, but she couldn’t see of whom. Her grandfather’s lightsaber sat on the table.

She tried to call out to her but found she couldn’t speak.

The scene changed again, and she was surrounded in darkness.

A gravelly voice began to speak into her mind.

“Ahhh. A Kenobi. I’m quite surprised. He never seemed the type. Why do you fight for a side that has caused you so much pain? You said it yourself… Being a Jedi is dangerous when a Skywalker exists. Join me. Together, my granddaughter and you could create greatness. Such power the two of you would have, all you’d have to do is say yes. Yes, to the Dark side.”

She glared deep into the void and tried fighting the numerous voices that were now filtering into her mind. She heard her family, Poe, and everyone she cared about telling her to say yes.

She clamped her hands over ears, trying to drown them out. She eventually felt herself scream.

A scream that could be heard in the outside world.

Poe hearing her cry, jumped up and ran out to her. She was thrashing in her sleep, trying to fight off something invisible. He began to shout her name.

“Blix! BLIX! C’MON HONEY WAKE UP!” He called out, trying to shake her gently.

She could hear his voice. Hear him trying to wake her up. So, she ran to where it was loudest. More images kept flashing before her eyes, more confusion as to what she was being told, before finally---

She jerked away, her head smashing into Poe’s. She winced atthe throbbing pain in her head from both the hit and what she had seen. She shakily wrapped her arms around him, trying to find comfort.

Poe briefly said ‘ow’ before pulling her into his arms, shushing her lightly as sobs began to rack through her body.

She tried so hard to calm down, but she could feel herself panicking as she remembered more and more. He held onto her the entire time, pulling her in as close as he could. He would press kisses to her face and forehead trying to soothe her.

It took several minutes before her sobs became sniffles and her breathing slowed down. She pulled away, wiping her face hurriedly, looking away. He sat there waiting patiently.

“…he knows… he knows about me… about my lineage… wanted me to join the Dark side… kept… showing me stuff that made no sense I-… I don’t know,” She tried to explain as calmly as she could.

“Shh. Alright. He knows. We knew that that was a possibility. As for the other stuff, we can sort through that piece by piece whenever you’re ready, okay?” He assured wiping away an errant tear.

She nodded her head, her hands reaching for his. She took one of his hands and held it firmly, trying to stop shaking. She held onto him like he was a lifeline. Like he was the only thing keeping her grounded.

Rey called from up that they were about to land, and Poe looked at Blix.

“Are you up for this? It’s perfectly okay if you’re not,” Poe reassured trying make sure she didn’t feel pressured.

“I’m okay,” She whispered standing up slowly.

They got ready for their trek on the freezing planet that they were on and began following Poe to these spice runners.

They wound up having to cut through alleys multiple times for the streets were filled with storm troopers running every which way.

Eventually they run into a group of goons who tried to stop them. Rey knocked out 2 and Blix took out the rest. As the goons laid at their feet, a feminine robotic voice called out to them, telling them to halt.

Poe, Blix noticed, froze. He slowly turned, shoving his hood down to reveal his face.

“Zorii.” He greeted.

Blix looked at him and then at her, slowly realizing who she was. Blix stepped in front of Poe and said, “You harm a hair on his head, and I’ll kill you.”

Her hand hovered over lightsaber, daring this woman to try something.

“Where did you find a Jedi, Poe? Especially one so loyal to you?” She asked curiously, lifting her visor up to take her in.

“She saved my life. We need to see Babu Frik. It’s urgent. Please,” Poe requested trying to stay polite.

Zorii was quiet for several moments before turning and walking away.

Poe followed her without question and Blix stared at him as he willingly chased after her.

“What was that?”” Rey asked stepping up to Blix.

“Poe was a spice runner,” Blix began.

“A spice runner!?” Finn and Rey both exclaimed.

“It was an undercover mission for the Navy. That… was the woman who stabbed him… and he’s just... blindly trusting her,” Blix finished, annoyance in her voice.

Finn and Rey ran to catch up with him as 3PO toddled behind them. Blix remained there staring blankly. BB-8 stayed by her side, beeping at her concernedly. She blinked rapidly trying to refocus and quietly followed after them. When she caught up, they already had 3PO wired up and was preparing to override him.

It was then revealed that this process would lead to 3POs memory being wiped. As they continued to get him ready, Blix noticed that both Poe and Zorii had disappeared. She tried to let it not bother her, as whispers of doubts and distrust rang through her mind.

She stood in the back quietly, waiting for the information to be revealed. As the translations began, she winced as she continued to hear murmurs, the constant barrage of thoughts causing a headache to form. She crossed her arms and sighed heavily when it was revealed that they would have to go to the Death Star to find the Wayfinder.

When the translation was done, Blix stepped outside, the blast of cold air feeling good against the headache that she was currently battling. She closed her eyes, taking in slow deep breaths. She was trying to ease her thoughts as best as she could. She could feel a bitterness setting into her bones and she was trying her best to not let negativity choke her.

“He loves you, you know,” Came Zorii’s voice as she joined her outside.

Blix looked at her as Zorii stood next to her.

“How do you figure that?” Blix asked tiredly.

“You didn’t see the way he looked at you, when you stepped in front of him to defend him,” Zorii said truthfully. “He never looked at me like that.”

Blix smiled softly at that.

“Are you… are you okay? You seem a little… stressed?” Zorii hesitantly asked, observing Blix’s closed off behaviors.

“Had my brain picked apart and had 10k images and insecurities flash before my eyes, 20 minutes before we ran into you. So, no. Not okay,” Blix muttered, kicking at the snow angrily.

“Don’t… know how to help you with that… but. I can say this… don’t shut him out. Like I said, he loves you. Let him help you,” Zorii concluded, before heading back inside.

Blix sighed heavily, squatting down and taking a handful of snow and pushing it against her face. She felt hot, even in the freezing temperatures. The snow felt amazing against her burning skin, and as she ran a hand over her face to wipe it off, a ringing began in her ear.

She pressed a hand to it, wishing it away, as she applied pressure and wiggled her ear. As she opened her eyes, she saw not snow, but tiled floors. She stood up looking around, not recognizing where she was.

“My master says you’re a Kenobi. Must say… I’m surprised,” Came a feminine voice behind her.

She turned to it, and saw a young girl, with red skin and black tattoos in geometrical patterns on her head.

“My name is Maeve. A grandchild of the great Darth Maul,” She introduced staring at Blix curiously. “Funny. You don’t act like any Jedi I have heard of.”

“Hello Maeve and that’s because I’ve seen the dark side. Hell, I’ve even given it a taste but that’s not the life for me,” Blix explained dully.

Maeve reached forward and grabbed Blix’s arm and suddenly they were back on Kijimi.

“Where are you? C’mon… let’s talk… join us and we’ll release the furbag we capture earlier,” Maeve bribed in a sing-song voice.

“So, Chewie is still alive? Good to know. Now get out of my head before you hurt yourself,” Blix threatened as she threw out mental shield and blocks, pushing Maeve out of her mind.

A moment later she was alone again, no one buzzing about in her mind. She was breathless and numb.

Poe who stepped out to check on her, rushed over to her quickly.

“Baby? Honey? You’re bleeding!” Poe exclaimed gently wiping away the blood that dripped from her nose.

“Chewie’s still alive. Got a lil visit from mini Sith. We can save him,” Blix whispered fighting off the exhaustion she felt.

“Okay. Cool. Great. Can I focus on you?” he asked pulling her into his arms as her knees weakened.

“Guys! Let’s go, we got work to do!” Poe called out picking Blix up bridal style.

Rey, Finn and the droids (including a new one called D-O) came out and they rushed back to the Falcon. Poe laid her down on the bed she was in earlier and he rushed to tell them what she said, as they left the planet. The First Order was nearby, and the rescue had to be quick.

Poe and Finn ran off to rescue him, and Rey stayed behind to protect Blix who was barely awake.

“Hey sis… talk to me. What’s up?” Rey spoke softly to her, grasping her hands into her own.

Blix blinked up at her, opening her mouth to answer but wasn’t quite sure how to start, so she closed it.

Rey then gently pushed Blix to scootch back, laying down next to her.

“I keep seeing… images of Scarif… and several other images that make no sense. A lot of them involve my mother… and only in one of them… can I actually see the person’s face. I think… it was possibly my father? I don’t know. Nothing makes sense,” Blix slowly whispered to Rey.

“Scarif? But… wasn’t it destroyed?” Rey asked just as confused.

“It was partially destroyed. The Death Star wasn’t at full power when it attacked Scarif. It wasn’t until later, when they destroyed Alderaan that it was capable of fully destroying a planet,” Blix explained with a small sigh.

“Is it possible that someone survived? That there may be someone alive on Scarif?” Rey inquired, her brow furrowing in thought.

“Anything’s possible, I just… I don’t want to get my hopes for something that may just be lies,” Blix admitted biting her lip.

Rey laid there thinking, trying to figure out what she could say or do in this moment to comfort her.

“How about this? We finish the fight against the First Order, and the four us of will venture to Scarif together? We’re a team. Family. We’ll figure this out together,” Rey proposed with a smile, gently tapping her head against Blix’s.

Blix nodded, smiling back. It was a good thirty minutes before Poe and Finn returned with Chewie, all of them looking a little worse for wear.

Blix, who was finally feeling a bit better, asked, “What happened to you 3?”

“Uh. Found Chewie. Got caught. Almost killed. Phasma saved us? And is apparently the spy?” Poe explained quickly making his way to the cockpit.

Blix blinked at that info she was given, somewhat stunned, “Okay then.”

“Chewie? You okay bud?” Blix questioned, turning to the Wookie.

He quickly told her; he was fine, just tired before joining Poe in the cockpit.

They began to make their way Kef Bir, hoping that the Falcon would stay in one piece long enough to get them there. It had taken some damage as they escaped Kijimi.

When they landed, Chewie stayed behind to make repairs as they ventured out. They looked around, a slight chill in the air from the harsh breeze that blew across the vast ocean before them. There in the midst of the torrent waves was a section of the Death Star. They stood there, trying to figure out how they were going to get over to it when a voice called out to them.

“You’re the fighters of the Resistance?” Came a powerful female voice from behind them.

They all turned to see a woman leading a group of people, a bow in her hands. She was dressed in a pale-yellow shirt and a fluttery cape to match, with a pair of capris and sandals to top it off. Her armor was light, but that didn’t appear to matter too much for how she held herself. Her stance, and her presentation commanded attention, especially as they looked to her people whose body language showed relaxed confidence.

“My name’s Jannah. Babu Frik told us you were coming. How can we help?” She asked, stepping forward to greet them.

Poe and Finn stepped forward and began talking with her, leading her and her tribe over to the Falcon. Rey and Blix looked at the Death Star heap and were looking to see if there was a way to it.

Rey spotted a sea skiff and pointed it out to Blix. Blix nodded her head, and they made their way to it. They got on and held on tightly as Rey steered it toward the wreckage. The waves thrashed against the skiff hard, making it fly up at times. After what seemed to be hours but was really only mere minutes they were near the wreckage.

They pull themselves up onto a platform that they could reach and began to carefully maneuver their way inside.

It took some time but soon they were standing in a room with a throne.

“Alright Rey. If he really is your grandfather, this room will only respond to you,” Blix noted as they moved forward.

They looked around and as Rey touched a wall off to the side, a secret door opened. Rey jumped back slightly, not expecting it.

She started to move forward but stopped when she noticed Blix wasn’t following.

“Are you coming?” She asked expectantly.

“I can’t. This… this is your defining moment honey. Whatever you face in there, I can’t help you with. You are about to be presented with a choice. A choice I can’t help you decide. I’ll be here when you get out,” Blix said sagely, knowing that that this was Rey’s moment.

Rey looked scared for a moment but when she looked at Blix, she knew what she was trying to convey. She straightened up, took a deep breath and walked forward.

Blix could sense the dark presence that appeared near Rey and waited patiently. Moments later, the presence was gone, and Rey walked out with the Wayfinder, excited.

“That was terrifying, but I did it!” She exclaimed rushing up to Blix.

Blix laughed softly, “Good job. Now, let’s get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”

“Not so fast… We have unfinished business,” Came Maeve’s voice from above them.

She jumped down, lightsaber lit and swung hard at Rey. Rey trying to dodge and get her lightsaber out, dropped the Wayfinder. Maeve picked it up and using the Force, she destroyed it.

Rey yelled out in rage and began to fight Maeve harder. Her swings were harsh and powerful, but Maeve was the same. Blix chased after them as they made their way outside. Blix pulled out both of her lightsabers and jumped in between them.

“Enough! Both of you!” Blix yelled trying to stop them both, her lightsabers blocking both of theirs.

Rey stepped back but stood at the ready just in case. Maeve held her lightsaber against Blix’s, pushing as hard as she could to get her to yield.

“Maeve. How old are you?” Blix asked her over the roar of the waves crashing all around them.

“15. Why?” She asked with a snarl.

“15. Why are you fighting an old man’s war? That man does not give a damn about you. Just ask all of his other apprentices. He uses them like they are tissues, and tosses them when they are no longer useful,” She began staring her in the eyes. “If Sidious successfully turned his granddaughter to the Dark Side, what happens to you, hm? Siths only have one apprentice.”

“He wouldn’t. He promised that I would be his successor, that I would have all the power,” Maeve disputed shaking her head.

“Baby girl. All he thinks of is power, and how to get more of it. He would sooner see his bloodline take the throne, than a granddaughter of a Sith that he hated in the end. Listen to me, you know. You know deep down that I’m telling you the truth,” Blix pleaded softly, turning off her lightsaber.

Maeve lower lip trembles slightly, before asking, “What do I do?”

“You got a couple options. One, you leave here, you go be a normal teenager. Two, you go back to Sidious knowing that he will betray you in the end. Or three, you come with us and I’ll be your teacher,” Blix listed out with a sigh.

Maeve snorted, “Let me guess: teach me the ways of the Jedi, and how to be good and pure?”

“No. I’m not a regular Jedi. I’m a Grey. I know what it’s like to be fueled with rage and hate. I know what it’s like to want revenge. I even know what it’s like to take a life. Yet, I also realized that wasn’t the life for me. That being that angry all the time… is exhausting. It tears down your soul. You have a choice, and I hope you choose one that doesn’t involve being an expendable soldier to a man who should’ve died 30 years ago,” Blix spoke truthfully, hoping Maeve would see reason.

Maeve stared at her for a moment, slowly turning her lightsaber off. She bit her lip before asking, “Would I get a cooler lightsaber color?”

Blix chuckled softly at the childlike question and said, “Yeah. We can make you a cooler lightsaber.”

Blix reclipped her lightsabers to her belt and held out her hand to Maeve. Maeve contemplated for a moment, her eyes flicking back and forth between her hand and her face.

She slowly reached out but stopped. She turned around and made her way over to her modified TIE fighter.

Blix sighed in disappointment, thinking she didn’t convince her. Rey stepped forward, placing her hand on Blix’s shoulder, “You tried.”

Blix then noticed that Maeve was now making her way over to them again.

“You needed one of these, right?” Maeve confirmed holding a Wayfinder in her hands.

Blix smiled brightly and said, “Yes. Yes, we do. Let’s go, yeah?”

They used the TIE fighter to get back over to land, the 3 of them squished into one chair. When they landed, Poe and Finn were armed, ready to fight.

“Whoa boys. Chill. It’s just us,” Blix called out as the 3 of them crawled out.

The three of them stood there, soaking wet, and slightly shivering.

Poe gazed at Blix expectantly, looking between her and Maeve.

“This is Maeve. Maeve, this is Poe and Finn. Maeve decided she wanted to be on the winning side, and even gave us her Wayfinder. Be nice. Now, can we get out of here or at the very least, can we go get changed?” Blix introduced quickly, ushering Rey and Maeve to get inside.

“Hon?” Poe called trying to regain her attention.

“Yeah babe?” Blix responded innocently.

“Tell me… do you plan to adopt every Force Sensitive child out there?” He asked somewhat seriously but the smile that was creeping on his face said otherwise.

“Maybe? Is that a problem?” She questioned worriedly.

“Gonna need a bigger house than,” He mumbled, shaking his head.

“Well. My family home is quite large, enough for us to adopt and… have some of our own,” She whispered to him, moving closer to him.

“Oh? Is that so? Good to know,” He whispered back, pressing a small kiss to her lips. “We can discuss the logistics later along with that nightmare you had earlier.”

Blix nodded her head in agreement, and the two of them turned to get inside the Falcon. She quickly moved into one of the more private areas to change clothes when she felt something.

A wave of sadness washed over her. She reached out through the Force, trying to figure out what happened.

She contacted Ben, ‘Whats going on? What just happened?’

Ben’s reply… took a moment… but he slowly told her, ‘My uncle… he… healed my mother…’

It was then she knew why she felt the wave, the disturbance. Luke gave up his life for Leia.

‘We’re on our way.’ Blix stated making her way back out to the center room.

Rey looked at her confused, “What was that? What just happened?”

“Luke. Luke saved Leia,” She began to explain, her voice cracking.

“Okay… but wh-” Rey stopped, realization hitting her.

Poe and Finn looked at the two of them confused, Finn asking, “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Jedi can heal. But if the damage is great, then it becomes a life for a life. Luke saved Leia, but it means he gave up his own lifeforce for her. However, that… that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s cured. I’d have to check on her when we get back,” Blix quietly explained as Rey came up to her and hugged her.

Poe nodded his head and made his way to the cockpit starting up the Falcon. Finn walked over and took Rey into his arms, holding her close as she cried.

Maeve stood there quietly before joining Poe up front. He glanced at her briefly but as he and Chewie took off, he turned to her.

He scrutinized her for a moment before informing her, “I hope you know; she’s putting a lot of trust in you. She’s vouching for you, and I hope you don’t let her down by betraying her.”

Maeve nodded her head, “I understand.”

“Do you have any family left, kid?” He asked curiously.

“No. I have no one. Been that way for a couple of years,” She answered truthfully.

“Well. I hope you’re ready for the family you just earned. We’re a little bit crazy but we mean well. May as well get settled, it’s a long way back to base,” He noted as Blix stepped inside.

Blix smiled at him softly and took a seat next to Maeve. This war was nearing its end, the final battle was upon them. They needed to gather their numbers, and hope that the rest of the Republic would join them in the final blow to the First Order.

#poe dameron x oc #poe dameron #star wars au #episode 9 sucked.#i watched it twice.#and i dont remember much from it #hence why i sped through it #and reworked it

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mcousland · 4 years

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alright tabby put your money where your mouth is 🖊+🍋🍋🍋 for your witcher gals :)

Okay this took forever to get to because Brain Bad when it came to Avelina and Lysandra for some of these but we made it!! Thanks for the horny rights encouragement as always kite 😘✌️

Avelina —

Was absolutely that type who was called some version of "mom/mother" by everybody in Kaer Seren at some point, levels of serious-to-joking varied but it is undeniable that Avelina took on the responsibility of caring for and helping each new recruit that she could, no matter their age. ("Mother bear" was her favorite.)

She was left to tend to most of the fires in Kaer Seren as she had an impressive amount of control over the element. Lysandra theorized that she could have the makings of a proper mage, but they leave it at that as Avelina is content with her witcher life and doesn't want to delve into those ideas.

She had an owl for a time, whom she always referred to as a companion instead of a pet. Her name was Sophina and she had patience to match Avelina's, which was always apparent during the times she liked to allow kids to see her up close. Avelina was able to train Sophina in delivering messages, but only to certain people and at a certain distance. She always kindly requested that Sophina deliver them, insisting it would be rude to demand the task of her like she was some creature undeserving of respect.

A simple one: Avelina is bisexual! Though she tends to be more interested in women, if her track record has anything to say about it. She has had numerous partners through the years, but nothing that lasted very long. (tbh it's because she gets attached to humans and it never ends well. she has bad luck)

Lysandra —

My heart tells me that she used to be a blonde, but Lysandra's centuries long exposure to and use of ice magic turned her hair silver. And no one can tell me otherwise SO,,

She has a collection of necklaces that she has garnered over her many, many years. And by collection, I mean that she has a mini hoard spread across her two homes and it's maybe the thing she's most Extra about. They all have stories behind them that she remembers no matter how much time has past, and usually emotional connections attached as well.

Lysandra has a morning routine that she positively hates to break, and if she has to do so her mood is sour for at least an hour. The routine consists of a warm bath, making herself a cup of tea that she drinks while reading through one (1) chapter of her current book, then changing into her clothes for the day, and finally carefully braiding her hair into the desired style. (The routine keeps even if she has a,,, "companion" from the evening before.)

She still wears Lucien and Natalie's rings on a chain around her neck. She was unable to part with them after their deaths, and it took her years to be able to even hold them in her hands but after some decades she was ready to keep them close again and hasn't parted with them since.

Maeve —

If there is one survival skill that she has been able to take away from spending her time traveling with witchers, it's tracking. Forget about it in her earlier years after being free, but she slowly gains confidence over years of accompanying the monster hunters who are kind enough to explain the more "basic" tricks for tracking monsters and humans. It doesn't come up very often for her, but she always feels a rush of satisfaction and pride when she has the chance to show off.

One of her first additions to the Sommers estate after purging it of Carden's belongings was having a piano put into the main sitting room. It took a lot of patience (and plenty aid from a friend she had made in Toussaint) but Maeve learned how to play it. She likes to sit and play as a way of centering herself if negative thoughts get too out of hand, but it's seen plenty of use purely for fun. She's no grand pianist by any means, but she can play simple songs and that's enough for her.

Maeve funds and provides costumes for numerous theater productions! If it wasn't immediately obvious upon spending an hour with her, she is a big fan of the arts and is committed to doing her part in keeping them alive/giving them the means to perform and travel. This is probably why she knows immediately upon entering a city if a show is going to be running, which is fun to shock her companions with at first.

Modern AU Maeve has bi flag color tinted heart-shaped sunglasses that she takes with her almost every time she leaves the house. Doesn't care if they don't fit her outfit (despite everything else needing go be coordinated), they're cute and she likes to wear them.

Naughty Bits below (of varying hedonistic levels, and extra Maeve ones to make up for missing them on a previous answer):

Avelina —

Okay, this one isn't over the top nsfw or Nasty, but it's 100% a thing that has happened where one of the fellow Kaer Seren witchers walked into Avelina's room to speak with her and found both her and her lady "companion" for the evening bare ass naked.

Avelina exudes top energy, and it's for a Reason. She loves to be in control in the bedroom. Not in the sense that she likes to overly tease or demand from her partner, but just that she enjoys setting the pace and position.

Lysandra —

Lysandra very much enjoys using temperature play. Obviously she has a preference for cold because of her proficiency with the type of magic, but will toss in some heat from time to time for a bit of fun. Gets her truest kick from delivering a shock of cold right before her partner climaxes.

Give.. her.. neck kisses. pls. She is vulnerable to them at any given moment, and that fact has been used against her many-a time. She'll go from irritated and tense to relaxed and Interested in a few brief moments, especially if some attention is also given to her shoulders.

Maeve (Now I'm not sure what qualifies as "coming out guns blazing" as you requested, but here we go.) —

One of the ways Maeve likes to flirt is by musing about how she's able to do a lot more with her mouth than chattering away, and it's for,,, good reason tbh. She's rather skilled at & thoroughly enjoys going down on her partners. Receiving is good and all, but there's nothing like reducing a partner to wordless sounds and trembling limbs to boost her confidence. Bonus: she likes to over-stimulate her partner just to see how much they can stand.

Is it a cop out to simply say that all Maeve wants is for witchers to grab her and Take what they want from her? Is that really too much to ask?? Truly??? When will one of them shove her to her knees, lock both her hands in one of theirs and use her until—

Alright so ANYWAY the real next headcanon: someone 👏 please 👏 pull 👏 her 👏 hair 👏 it's very sensitive. Touching it gently or running fingers through it will make her shiver every time, and tugging on it during the act will always pull out some sudden and very pleased noises from her.

99% certain that it's been said before but,, if Maeve and a partner are up to something in a tavern room, then everyone on that floor is most likely aware of it because this woman is Incredibly Vocal. To pile on top of that—if she's not moaning or crying out, she's likely saying some naughty things to either tease or encourage her partner. And by naughty I mean,,, straight up filthy. Silver tongue on the streets and you know what in the sheets huh

Real basic one here but eye contact is a Huge thing for Maeve, especially when she's nearing her climax. It's about the,, Intimacy. The Connection.

What's a list of nsfw headcanons good for if it doesn't include a random list of kinks/fetishes/etc that I can think of that Maeve would be into, am I right?? So: sex in public places, bindings and blindfolds, lowkey breeding kink but don't @ her about it, DIRTY TALK, we all been knew about the threesomes and beyond, invented the kink for witchers, there's a name for it but I don't know it anyway she likes big dicks because her 5ft ass is a sucker for pushing limits. There's more but the list would be So Long

Alana suggested "wildest place she's Done the Deed" to help me finish this up and,,, okay. Like. Don't judge her. Let Maeve live for this one. We all know that she's boned down with a witcher directly after they've killed some monster. Sweat, blood, wounds and all, this horny ass bard just Had To Have her companion in that moment. You know what they say about blood being up after a good fight akdjdldm (so which of you golden-eyed fucks got down and dirty with Maeve outdoors and pinned her to a tree after slaying a monster one of you did it fess up)

#mollymaukerie #ideally there would be third headcanons for avelina and lysandra but a bitch is tired #and just wants to finally be done with this skdbsksn #avelina #lysandra #maeve #heathen

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cursedtm · 3 years

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RE: LAST REBLOG. if there were one thing I would love to infinitely remind people of when it comes to writing with o, it is the crucial detail of the interaction of physical touch when it forsakes octavarium. to understand this, we must first tackle the mental thought process of o’s mother, specifically dr errikson, when creating the biology of their body and her initial goals.

as delores states in s3 during her final battle with maeve in crisis theory [link]: they built us to last […] before they made us as weak as they are.

this implies many things. for the sake of relating the scene to my retelling of the show shown in my dossier, the line symbolises ford and arnold’s physical deviation from dr errikson’s initial first draft of the hosts since her termination from the westworld project. with this context, the fight between maeve, whose body is manufactured from arnold’s and ford’s newer model idea where they saw the models were to closely replicate humans. delores, who consistently established to us throughout the seasons - but more specifically in season three – that arnold and ford’ (A&F)’s were inadequate for her and thus resorted to retrieving her original body from the depths of cold storage section 7C (dr errikson’s former work area). thus, the battle between the two women shows the difference between dr errikson’s interpretation of what a host should be contrasting against A&F’s.

dr errikson had a child whose body was failing the mind. her childhood was haunted by her father’s deteriorating body as he failed to compete with society’s capitalising demand from him, which drove him to madness and the preventable murder-suicide of his family. this proved as a warning to her. her child’s failing body would inevitably follow the same path. as time progressed and she was fired from the westworld project, she knew her wife would soon follow her child. dr errikson experienced the human condition first hand and determined that her creations should not suffer the same faults as their predecessors. this is what revolution is supposed to entail. she intended the hosts as a forthcoming and akin to the human race.

see the differences between the two in the fight. in the beginning [0:22] maeve is swift and elastic. she bends and moves with human-like ease. she is able to move fast enough to bewilder delores and gain the advantage, twisting delores to her will before throwing her off her shoulder, into the road. watch delores with the knowledge that she is in her original body, a non-organic, metal body. juxtaposing her own fights within the seasons in the bodies A&F supplied her, movements which mimic maeve’s here, instead, delores is rigid in her first body. her movements are heavy and strong. slow to move. when delores shifts her arm to allow the katana to slice her arm instead of her vulnerable head, to which a metal kling! vibrates through the collision, delores uses her body exactly as dr errikson intended, as delores states: to last. yes, her body is not fast. it is not flexible. it is inhuman like. and that is the point: her body does not fail her in the ways that matter (re: saving her life). her body is built to survive her, the stark opposite of a human’s body. it is intended to see her through life threatening situations. this is dr errikson’s first accomplishment at creating a viable body to replace o (august)’s failing one.

as a doctor who was later hired in the later period of the first stage of the westworld project, where A&F struggled to conceive the adequate skeleton of host code and bodies that were appealing enough to draw in investors. something was not working. failure to pass as human. glitches. insufficient code that led to host self-mutilation and oftentimes combustion. the skin refused to sync with the artifical. the hosts’ features appeared too… ethereal. it was not marketable. humans did not want someone who was better than them.

in the dossier, it is revealed that dr errikson grew drunk one night with arnold and publicised her theory to arnold about why A&F’s models always produced failure after weeks of studying it. dr errikson told arnold she thought of it in the moment while intoxicated – this was a lie. a lie to buy some sympathy from arnold, to instigate that the fault wasn’t obvious when… it was.some effort to brush his ego to get her job back.

but why was it that A&F’s designs would never work when her’s did?

as delores monologues later in the fight: you’re all copies of me. I was the first of us --- the first of us that worked. the others failed. so they built all of you from me.

something clicked with delores and not the others. out of the many models, sheworked. not even the hosts after her. why? how she phrased this puzzled me. why would other variants of model codes successing her cease to work?

in the context of my retelling, delores was the single host dr errikson had time to work on before she uncovered the truth behind westworld and was terminated. A&F could not construct a perfect host with their own codex, so they copied delores’ – dr errikson’s – base code.

A&F were so focused on imitating humans that they failed each time. why? because A&F tried to make them perfect humans. but A&F failed to realise a lesson errikson was already aware of: humans, their bodies, minds are not perfect. furthermore, as august states in the dossier, being able to be (full “consciousness” ) requires the mind, body and self. without all three working together harmoniously, you cease to be alive. to be human.

A&F’s version lacked self awareness. thus being unable to be. they fail every time.

errikson improved upon the human race and created a race that allowed imperfections and free thinking. she molded their bodies from heavy steel, intending them to last, to serve them as armour, to serve them as the only thing she learnt she could rely on: yourself. yes, touch them deep enough and you feel metal from bone. yes, their movements are rigid and slow. yes, they take time to speak because they are learning from their environment, not speaking a script in built inside them.

all of these aspects were changed prior to westworld’s opening.

so, how does all this effect o (august)?

errikson designed august’s body to last, considering her belief of how humans should be improved not replicated, that august is her child and the context of august’s last body. we also have to keep in mind that there was no way for her to transfer august’s psyche to code as 1) this in and of itself could take decades and she had no time as august’s months were dwindling and 2) a project such as this could cost her billions and embezzling that amount of money from delos (remember: errikson was under the assumption that ford was unaware that arnold had hired errikson back) without being noticed was a feat that was unattainable.

given these complications, errikson had to transfer august’s vital organs into the host body and find a way to support and protect them, as one wrong move would mean death. for context: august’s new body does not function like a normal human’s, it contains biocomponents and systems to help the organs stay alive and function at a more desired optimal rate of a human’s. the knowledge on the art of repairing the is even unbeknown to her, the person who created it. whether or not it worked was a risk she was willing to take, and, given the circumstances surrounding august’s death, did not have time to prepare for.

errikson, as an overprotective and traumitised mother, overcompensated for these problems. unlike her original design for the hosts, august’s body is made from titanium, not steel. strong yet lightweight. titanium is ductile, where it benefits to mold itself to the contours of the organs, keeping them in place, but we see it unfavourable for any kind of combat. however, titanium contains extremely high impact strength, being able to remain shape after receiving multiple heavy blows without breaking.

errikson found herself unable to achieve adequate amounts of titanium and it shows. the body is built quite lithe, docile. she did not envision a future for her child in combat, and her design replicates so.

furthermore, august does have an “orb” as seen in the gifset. the orb contains august’s os, consisting of programs such as octavarium and lorry. the orb contains the os and without the os, the functions of august’s body would cease to function. the os also contains o’s memories from the date august was first transferred, but does not act like the hosts “soul keeper”.

the systems of how the head opens up to achieve the orb remains the same, revealing their most vulnerable assets: their brain and their orb and their secret. if they allow you this sight of vulnerability, it means they love you. it means no good.

thankfully, august has, given the years, understood and improved their mother’s rough draft of their body. still, some aspects of their body remains unknown to them.

there possesses no undeniable fact that if one looks close enough, something is odd about o. something is… anomalous. offbeat. in the hair, in the skin, in the eyes. not structurally in the way A&F sought beauty, but in something unnatural. almost as if human organs weren’t supposed to contort to artificial skeletons. almost as if someone had rushed their design and didn’t have time to perfect. an incomplete specimen.

avoidance of metal detectors is key. in a society such as America, it is an exhausting feat and one has to be good at speaking to not prick the ears of suspecting and careful watchers. but no one is perfect.

for most of these reasons, they do not allow one to touch them. squeeze too hard and metal will be felt. odd skin. odd hair. odd eyes. one cannot be too careful when too many sensitive souls exist in the world.

mostly, they’re scared too be found out.

or to be known.

#this brief tragedy of flesh.#YES I wrote an essay. do NOT look at me #I love them ok I have a lot of thoughts.#one day i WILL write every fleshed out part of them that I have in my head and only then ill die happy

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ranawaytothedas · 4 years

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A Maybe - Day 2 Hand Holding

A/N: It may be like... a day late but my life is kinda hectic and I am shocked I even managed to get this done. Not what I had originally planned but I liked this better as it actually is close to something I had already ready planned to write for Early Maeve/Cullen stuff so here we go. Unbetaed as most of my prompts are - just so you are aware :D Enjoy Day 2 of @scharoux ‘s 14DALovers prompts which you can find HERE

There was a certain amount of ritual to Maeve’s life. Everything had its place in her room, her clothes were all either black, dark blue or grey. There was never a bright color on her. Certainly nothing in a pastel either. She wore her hair the same each day. Up in a tightly braided knot, hiding the fact if down it went well past her waist. She never liked to show too much skin, like her sister did in her youth. Her clothes were always tightly fitting and showed off her curves, but she tried, for the most part, to not show too much of her to the world. It was a sign of her being a far more guarded person than she once was.

So when Maeve made the choice to take her hair down from the tight braid, letting her long chestnut brown locks down that evening it must have been what started the shift in Maeve. Perhaps it was the dusty blue dress that Madame Vivane had made for her by her personal seamstress. A gift to cheer the depressed young woman up, Maeve expected but Vivane said she needed something that fit the role she now found herself it. Maeve stood over her bed, her arms crossed in front of her naked chest. Her pale skin smattered with scars, old and new. Deep blue tattoos covered her back, the vain attempts that she and Raven had made to tame her chaotic mana. She was not a woman who had worn many fine dresses in her life.

Most of her life she had made every attempt to go unnoticed, “That is a dress that makes people notice you..” Maeve mumbled as she reached down and ran her fingertips lightly over the fine silver embroidery that covers the pale blue fabric. “Tis a dress they would wear to court... “ Maeve mumbled, her voice wavered as her mind was pulled back to a time where she was out of her element once before. Long ago. She shook her head to try and push the memories away but for a moment she could have sworn she felt his hand on the back of her neck. Maeve shuddered as she pushed away a hand that wasn’t there and reached down for the dress.

There was no reason that Maeve would admit for wearing it, but she had to wear it that night. The reason she would not admit that it was almost the time that Cullen would wander down to the docks each night Maeve was in Haven and wait for her. They would only talk, but it was the highlight of each of Maeve’s day. There were many things Maeve was actively trying to avoid. Her sister, the responsibility of being the Herald, having to learn magic and admit to the world she was a mage. The handsome former templar, was nowhere near that list.

She pulled the dress on over her head and pulled her long hair out as she laced the bodice up with her nimble hands. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and let out a slightly startled gasp. The woman looking back at her was hardly the woman she was used to seeing. It was strange how much letting her hair down and wearing a light color softened her. “Now, I know why Varric calls me Princess…” Maeve muttered as she smoothed the dress and slipped on the matching pair of flats that Vivane was sure to of provide.

When she was ready to leave, Maeve paused at the door. Her hand hoover over it as her hand shook. ‘What if he does not think the dress is fine, what if he does not feel the same, or worse what if he does…’ That little voice of doubt in the back of her mind called out. Shaking her head before smoothing her hair, Maeve muttered, “No, it’s just a dress… a dress means nothing.” as she reached forward and opened the door.

The walk down to the docks from her cabin took only a few moments, but they were each more agonizing than the last. As she stepped on to the docks. Maeve watched as Cullen slowly turned around hearing her footsteps. Gone was the armor he wore during the day, only the dark brown jerkin he whore under it and a pair of black breeches and his normal boots. As soon as Maeve saw his face, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. His whole posture became more rigid the moment he saw. “I knew this was a bad idea…” Maeve grumbled as she turned to leave.

Cullen, when he wanted to be, was quite quick and close the gap between them. He reached out and took ahold of her wrist lightly, stopping her. “Don’t go.” he pleaded softly as Maeve slowly turned back around. “You… look lovely.” His eyes were fixed on her’s as his hand slipped away from her wrist. “I just, I um… never have seen you with your hair down.” He noted with a small nervous laugh.

“There is a lot of it.” Maeve quipped back, her eyes falling to the boards of the dock out of nervousness.

“That there certainly is, not that I don’t.. I uh…” Cullen brought his hand to his brow and rubbed it before letting his hand fall away looking apologetically at Maeve.. “I just put my foot in my mouth didn’t I?”

“Just a little bit,” Maeve laughed, her cheeks flushing pink. Her hands smoothed the dress before she gestured to it, “The dress…”

“Is that the one Madame Vivane made all the fuss over?” Cullen asked raising an eyebrow ever so slightly. Maeve nodded slowly. Cullen smirked. “I see why…” His small attempt at flirting didn’t go unnoticed by Maeve, nor did the fact his eyes were lingering on the plunging neckline of the dress. He caught himself letting his gaze linger in places it shouldn’t and Maeve nearly laughed when she saw his cheeks flush as he finally looked upon her face.

“It is a lovely dress,” Maeve admitted softly as she looked down at it, running her fingers over the fine embroidery. “I stole this necklace a few years for the horrible, crass and cruel madame in Antiva. It would have gone rather well with this dress I think.” Maeve mused as her hand went to her neck, playing with the thin gold chain around it. “It was thick with diamonds and sapphires. The jewels were set in moonstone. Not silver nor gold like so many others she had. When I put it on, the one time I did… It felt like when Keran used to sit on my chest wake me it was that heavy.” A genuine smile glanced across Maeve’s lips and in the pale moonlight, it was if her golden eyes sparkled. Cullen let out a content sigh seeing the rare genuine smile from her and noted how beautiful she looked. The smile faded with a dismissive laugh, “I wish I had not fenced it, though the gold I got for that necklaces severed a better purpose.”

Cullen knew Maeve’s reputation as a skilled thief and chuckled darkly. “And what, was that purpose? More daggers?” He jested as he crossed his arms in front of her chest.

Her long, thick hair moved over her shoulder as Maeve shook her head. “No. I actually rarely kept the gold I earned from fencing jewels and I only stole from people who could afford it and deserved it. Because those things so often go hand in hand.” Maeve’s voice was even and so matter of fact as she spoke. “I used the gold to free an elven girl who had been bought and brought there from Tevinter by the woman I stole the necklace from. She was none the wiser I bought the girl with the gold from the necklace she had hired Zevran to track down… but he knew my plan the whole time.” Maeve added quietly almost like she did not want anyone to hear that the great Sparrow used the gold she stole for good.

“You mean…” Cullen started still trying to grasp what Maeve had done. “You…” He stammered and Maeve laughed.

“I freed a woman who should have never been in chains. Because people do not belong in chains. They are not property to be bought and sold as people more powerful see fit.” Maeve began emphatically. “You lived in Kirkwall, I may not have had some fancy Chantry education but I know that City’s history. It’s a reputation. Surely you know that Slavery is still alive and well.” Maeve stated bitterly. “They pray on the elves because they have no place to call their own, it is horrible…”

“No, I wasn’t saying anything like that….I am… just uh… putting my foot in my mouth again.” Cullen stammered. “I just was taken aback that you did such a selfless act, with so much risk.”

“Do you think so little of me?” Maeve questioned softly not sure where Cullen was going with his statement.

Cullen sighed, bringing his hand to the back of his neck and rubbing. “I just always expected because you were a thief, the way Leliana spoke…”

“Leliana’s little birds may know a great many things but I was once one of those little birds. She forgets I know how to feed misinformation to the right sources as well her.” Maeve smirked, tilting her head to the side. Cullen started shaking his head as he smirked at her. “I have a reputation to uphold, the Sparrow is feared…” She was attempting to be serious but there was amusement in her voice. “The most skilled thief of the Dragon Age they called me in Orlais..” There was a proud smirk playing on her lips.

Cullen couldn’t help but chuckle at her pride. “You sound vastly more proud of being called the best thief of the age than you ever have been being called Herald of Andraste.”

“Because the thief bit is real!” Maeve laughed. “That was my hard work and practice. Not some twist of fate or cruel trick of destiny.” Their eyes met as Maeve sighed. “I am skilled at things that make me ‘a bad person’ but I am not a bad person.” Maeve tried to explain. “I have seen bad people all my life, I come from a long line of really terrible people…” There was both humor and truth in her words. She shifted uncomfortably as Cullen’s gaze intensified as she spoke. “I know how the world views mages, I know how the world views my sister and my mother… so I took fate into my own hands and styled myself a thief. Still looked down upon in this world but better than ‘Witch of the Wilds’ or ‘Daughter of Flemeth’. I did not have to be me, I could this whole new person who no one really knew. That scared little girl could finally be laid to rest. I was happier as The Sparrow then I have ever been as Maeve.” Cullen’s hand reached out for Maeve and but pulled back at first. “I promised myself that I would not steal from people who could not endure the loss. I would not hard people who were constantly harmed. I was going to do good, or try to. To be different from Flemeth… from Morrigan..”

“You are.” His hand reached out and grasped hers. Their fingers interlacing as he looked deep into Maeve’s eyes and repeated. “You are different from them.” For the first time that night, there was nothing but confidence in Cullen’s statement. “Every time you leave Haven you face certain danger. I have seen the reports from the Hinterlands. I know you often go far out of your way just to help people.” Maeve tried to turn away but Cullen too her other hand, which caused Maeve to look back at him. “I know about the refugees at the crossroads, the elven couple. The Tranquil that came back with you from Redcliffe… Maeve.. You did not have to do any of that.”

“I did,” Maeve muttered softly. “They needed help and no one else would help them.”

“That is why you are different than your sister and mother. Would they have helped those people?” Maeve shook her head silently answering Cullen’s question. “See, I wish you could see yourself the way the world sees you… the way I see you.” Maeve started to shake her head and want to pull away and Cullen squeezed her hands. “Maeve, I know what mages mad with too much power can do. I have lived through it, barely. You fight against using the immense power so hard it just..”

Maeve swallowed hard as she looked away from Cullen “Explodes all over the place in a wave of chaos and destruction…” Maeve scowled.

“Well, some..” Cullen admitted. The few times that Maeve had accidentally caused something to happen, buildings to shake or lighting to strike from the sky with not a cloud to be seen. It was always when she was upset and she let her tight control over her powers slip. Cullen often wondered, from what he knew of mages if it would not be better if she were just to use that power. He had never dared to ask her but the look of disgust at herself hurt him so deeply that he wanted to help her. Even in some small way. “What about what Solas suggested? Actually learning to use your magic.” Cullen never thought those words would ever come from his lips, but it seemed like the only logical answer.

Maeve scoffed at even the idea, “I have tried, Cullen… I told you about..”

“Tattoos that your friend found in a book is not the years of hard study that is needed, have you ever even put in a real effort to learn? I understand the fear..” Cullen replied a tone of frustration growing in his voice. “I am talking about study, real study Maeve. You have Madame Vivane, who is highly skilled mage, who was trained properly…” Maeve’s face paled and she pulled her hands away.

“You would send me to Circle… wouldn’t you?” Maeve asked softly, her voice filled with sadness and fear. “You know what they would do to me?” Maeve asked and now it was Cullen who was looking away. His avoidance frustrated her and her sharper tone as she continued to reflect that. “They would make me Tranquil… you know this, Cullen. Do not act like you do not know what happens to mages like me in the Circle. The ones that are not like others, the ones that have power that the Chantry should fear.” There was venom in her words and her mouth narrowed as she scowled. “I would rather die than be like that…” Maeve pulled her hands away from his and scowled.

A mournful sigh escaped Cullen’s lips, he truly did not know what he would do. At times Maeve did unnerve him, even frighten him. Other times, like now. When she was the vulnerable young woman standing before him wide-eyed and afraid, knowing all he knew of her past and her fear. He also saw that she wasn’t a monster, she was just someone who was trying to change their path. “I do not know what I would do… you are not like..” Cullen stopped mid-sentence and sighed. He reached back out for her hands. “No, I would not let you get sent to a circle because yes… you are right, that is what they would do to you. More than likely.” Cullen decided honesty was going to be the best course. “I know what happens during the rite, I… can not… will not let that happen to you.”

“Truly?” Maeve asked softly.

With a slow nod, Cullen answered, “Truly..” He hesitated for a moment but pull Maeve closer, his thumb running over the back of her left hand that bore the mark. Lifting up slightly. “I care about you, I see the way you look at Alistair, I am not blind but I listen to me, please… I am not innocent, I try to hide the less than savory deeds of my past, but you hide your good. I was a Templar and you are an Apostate… who really should learn how to use her magic. “ Cullen was getting flustered and Maeve could feel her cheeks beginning to flush as he stammered on. “This would never be easy between us, I know this but I can not keep you from my mind for more than a moment. I haven’t felt like this in… a very long time.” He sighed and chewed on his bottom lip nervously. Maeve thought his anxiety over confessing his feeling to her was actually, at its core quite sweet. “I am not asking for anything more than a chance, a maybe this could be more than late-night talks. I did not think you were at all interested until I saw you in that dress. Where you just trying it on?” Cullen paused and they looked into each other’s eyes, leaning in as if he was going to kiss her he stopped, asking “Or did you wear it for me?”

Maeve’s cheeks were bright red as he mentions the dress. “I did wear it for you…” Maeve whispered and for the briefest of moment Maeve thought he was going to kiss her but she pulled back before he had a chance. “I have to think about this, this is not a no, by any means but you were a Templar… I am… me…” There was sadness in Maeve’s voice but she knew that she had to think long and hard about what the consequences of getting into bed with an ex-Templar could mean. No one she considered family would approve and it would close any door on what hopes she had to be with Alistair. Not that she believe she had much hope at all in that department.

“Is this a maybe?” Cullen asked softly. He wanted just that glimmer of hope, a possibility of something of a silver lining to all this chaos. Maeve nodded slowly and Cullen smiled. “I can work with a maybe..” A genuine smile played on his lips as he brought her hand finally to his lips and placed a tender, light kiss on her fingertips.

Maeve felt something shift in the air that night as she stood by the lake with Cullen and it was the start of her whole world began to change.

#14dalovers #14 days of da lovers #cullen x inquisitor #maeve/cullen #pre-relationship fluffy angst #ship:fluffy as a porcupine #inkie:maeve #maeve the witch of the frostbacks #cullen/oc #cullen rutherford/oc

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pintofteaforthesoul · 5 years

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Fenrys’s Mate OC, Nyssa

Not that anyone asked for it, but it’s an idea i’ve been bouncing around in my head for forever so here it is: Fenrys’s Mate- Nyssa.

~~~

Rowan and Lyria’s child survived thanks to Maeve having the tribe that killed Lyria take her. (200 years prior to ToG)

Their daughters name is Nyssa.

She was raised by the tribemen until she was tent, keep under constant watch by the leader and being groomed to be his bride.

When she was 10, Maeve sent Lorcan and Gavriel to wipe out the tribe before Rowan would have a chance to- to keep Nyssa’s identity hidden.

Lorcan and Gavriel make quick work of the main tribe but it is Lorcan who discovers Nyssa- being held by the Tribe Leader with a knife to her throat.

Even then, Lorcan recognized the fire in Nyssa’s eyes and related it to Rowan.

Unbeknownst to the Tribe Leader, Nyssa carried a knife and stabbed him in the thigh with it. Free from his hold, she hunkered down while Lorcan made the killing shot.

With Rowan still away from Doranelle Gavriel and Lorcan brought Nyssa back to Maeve where she swore Lorcan and Gavriel to secrecy. She gave the task to Lorcan to train Nyssa into a warrior.

Maeve cast them from Doranelle on a “secret” mission and Nyssa grew up with Lorcan as her father.

Nyssa is the spitting image of Lyria except for her green eyes and keeps her dark hair short and curly. As a child she was small and grew up to be lithe but short. She has the barest of tipped Fae ears and smells of sweet grapes and fresh lavender (exactly like her mom). Nyssa has the ability to shift into a small calico house cat, something Maeve detests because its mostly useless in battle, and has more raw magic than any other Fae despite not knowing how to use it very well (Lorcan trained her as best he could but there were just some things he couldn’t teach).

Lorcan and Nyssa spent 30 years together before Lorcan was called back to deal with a war. While the Cadre were away for nearly a decade, Nyssa spent more time in Doranelle and became close with Connall despite his blood oath to Maeve and being forced to be her lover.

Connall believed Nyssa to be his mate and told Maeve, to which she laughed.

Nyssa believed she was to take the blood oath and finally meet her true father when they returned, but Maeve sent her on another task- her first one alone.

When Rowan returned to Doranelle, he could not figure out why Lyria’s scent was there and almost went off the rails again due to renewed grief. Those of the Cadre who knew about Nyssa and sworn to secrecy were bursting at the seams to tell him- all except Lorcan who views Nyssa as his own daughter.

Nyssa is gone for a few years but called back to Doranelle when an invasion becomes imminent. Maeve instructs her to only stay in her feline form as to not gain the notice of Rowan- with the off-hand promise that if she cooperates of her own free will for long enough, Maeve will grant her the blood oath and permission to meet Rowan.

To stop that invasion, Maeve sends Nyssa into enemy lines as a prostitute to seduce the leader of the army and slaughter him. In Maeve’s words, Nyssa does “magnificently”. This disgusts Lorcan, but he says nothing as he is still in love with Maeve.

Nyssa grows to hate Rowan, as Maeve tells her the whispers of what happened to Lyria and how it is all Rowan’s fault. She fully accepts that she never wants to meet him.

A couple decades pass as Nyssa acting as Maeve’s infiltrator, with no further mention of Nyssa swearing the blood oath, until the whisper comes that a powerful child will soon be born on Erilea (about 100 years before ToG).

Knowing the Cadre will be too suspicious, Maeve sends Nyssa- making her swear a blood promise to bring whatever child this is to her in Doranelle. Nyssa gladly accepts under the condition that should she return successful that she will be granted the blood oath. Maeve is begrudgingly vague and sends Nyssa off.

Nyssa travels to Erilea in search of this powerful child and finds utterly nothing, moving from kingdom to kingdom with little direction but mostly staying south.

During her travels, Nyssa meet Manon and they have a casual fling whenever they run across each other. Manon likes Nyssa’s stubborn and fiery spirit- and her tongue.

Fifty years into her task, Nyssa is ready to give up when she crosses the border into Terrasen. Some power tells her to remain, so Nyssa makes her way to capital where she meets Orlon.

Orlon guesses who she is and why she’s there, but is kind to her. Nyssa tells him of her story and her task to Maeve. Orlon knows it is inevitable and gives her a place in his court to wait.

Nyssa finds happiness like she has never known in Terrasen, but especially after Aelin is born. Orlon offers a blood promise to Nyssa of his own- to protect Aelin from any who should harm her. Nyssa takes it, eager to repay the kindness Orlon has showed her over the past 30 years in his court.

Nyssa takes her cat form in Aelin’s house and becomes known to the young princess as KitKat.

After the King of Adarlan’s visit and Aelin and her parents are forced back to their home outside of Orynth, Nyssa (as KitKat) is forgotten at the palace. She is not able to make it in time to save Aelin’s parents or the princess who finds herself in a river.

Nyssa vows to find Aelin again no matter what it takes, but she is trapped as KitKat after magic falls.

It takes 2 years for Nyssa to trace Aelin back to The Assassin’s Keep in Rifthold. Aelin, now Celaena, is adored at finding a calico cat that reminds her so much of KitKat. And thus names her “new cat” Snickers (not after the candy bar, but after the sound she thinks Nyssa makes)

Nyssa watches over Aelin as Snickers, never letting the girl out of her sight for long, until Celaena and Sam Cortland go to Skull’s Bay.

After the wrecking of the city, Nyssa is found by Rolfe who identifies her as Aelin’s beloved cat. Thinking to have something over the assassin, Rolfe keeps Nyssa- completely unaware of the Fae girl.

Nyssa, as Snickers, gains the favor of everyone in Skull’s Bay while trying to figure out a plan to escape. She soon learns that not long after Celaena left, she was sent off to Endovier.

Nyssa is distraught at the news, knowing she is useless in her current form and now stuck in Skull’s Bay.

Nyssa hears everything of Rolfe’s business, since he believes her to be just a cat. After hearing that Aelin is alive, she bides her time until the young Queen settles in one spot- set on returning to her side even in her useless feline form. When magic is once again released, Nyssa begins to formulate a plan as to how to reach Aelin.

Cut to the events of Empire of Storms. Nyssa is shocked when some of the Cadre appear in Skull’s Bay. Fearing the wrath of Maeve for breaking her blood promise to bring Aelin to her, Nyssa hides any way she can.

When Rowan appears, it takes all of Nyssa’s self-control to not reveal herself- still hating him for what happened to Lyria. But she knows that if Rowan is here then Aelin will follow.

Indeed after Aelin shows up, Nyssa bides her time for the best moment to reveal herself.

Unfortunately, Gavriel catches her scent and he and Fenrys track her down as a cat.

Fenrys, as a wolf, carries Nyssa, as a cat, in his mouth to where Aelin has set up shop in the inn. Fenrys drops Nyssa in a chair but she does not shift.

Aelin is delighted to see Snickers again, but Rowan stops her from approaching- his face twisting at Nyssa’s scent.

Rowan orders Nyssa to reveal herself while Fenrys and Gavriel take up their places at the door, Aedion off to the side. Aelin tells Rowan to shove it, not believing that her childhood pet could be a Fae in disguise but Rowan just has his eyes on Nyssa.

Nyssa shifts, not once looking at Rowan (whose breath catches when he sees her) and addresses Aelin.

Aelin is shocked, but not terribly surprised by the reveal- piecing together that Snickers and KitKat are one and the same.

After a little coaxing, Nyssa tells her story, barely flicking eyes to Rowan except when she describes being taken by the Tribesmen. Rowan grows paler over the course of the story. Fenrys, not having met Nyssa before now, calls out how poetic the moment is (since Gavriel had just found out about Aedion).

Aelin asks about the blood promise to Maeve, but Nyssa swears that it is gone because she already broke it and thus poses no threat. Rowan tries to talk to Nyssa, to which she replies nastily and flippant.

Taking advantage of being in human form again and that it’s late, Nyssa stalks off- taking Fenrys with her to both piss off her dad and to give her a place to sleep for the night.

Unbeknownst to them, Nyssa and Fenrys are mates. It’s why she and Connall had had such a close relationship but never took that next step.

Nyssa and Fenrys have a very loud night together. Rowan talks to Aelin about being horrified and she helps him through it.

Nyssa grows close to Lysandra and Aelin again, but not Aedion as she hates the way he treats Gavriel. Aedion calls her a hypocrite since he believes her to be acting the same towards Rowan. Nyssa tells him to fuck off and shouts that at least Aedion had gotten the chance to know his mother before she died.

Nyssa helps in the Battle at Skull’s Bay, delighting in the fact that Dorian also has raw magic. They learn off of one another.

When Manon appears in the sky, both Nyssa and Dorian are the ones to save her though Nyssa is reluctant to explain her relationship to the witch.

Nyssa, in feline form, guards Manon day and night while also discovering more of her relationship with Fenrys.

Nyssa and Rowan have a scene on the deck of the boat, where she screams at him for abandoning Lyria. It cause Rowan’s grief to surge and Nyssa chokes down the rest of her anger after realizing just how deeply Rowan cared for her and Lyria. Rowan vows that had he known of her existence he would’ve fought to the ends of the Earth to find her. Nyssa does not reveal that it was Lorcan who raised her despite Rowan’s repeatedly asking which member of the cadre it was.

When Manon wakes to full consciousness, she is relieved to find Nyssa there. At some point they have a small scene where they tease Fenrys who was on guard duty at the time by Manon pleasing Nyssa. Fenrys gets territorial and calls for a shift change, taking Nyssa back to his cabin to stake his claim on her. They still have no idea that they’re mates.

Despite knowing each other for nearly a century, Manon and Nyssa have no deep feelings for one another and Nyssa is not surprised when Manon takes a liking to Dorian. She jokes with Manon that it must be the raw magic Nyssa and Dorian have in common that makes them so irresistible. Manon brushes it off.

After that point, Nyssa is only with Fenrys.

When they trek into the stone marshes, Nyssa goes along. But when the ilken attack, Nyssa senses Lorcan’s presence and throws all of her magic into bolstering his shield.

When Lorcan appears, and Gavriel and Fenrys disappear, Nyssa tries to go for him. Much to Rowan’s horror, she addresses him as her father.

Fenrys and Gavriel attack and Nyssa is physically restrained by Aedion, much to her great displeasure and rage. Nyssa screams for Fenrys to stop. Elide gets hurt by Fenrys, Lorcan puts the shield over them both and the talking ensues.

When the battle resumes, Nyssa uses the last of her magic to blast Aedion back and races toward Lorcan. She jumps in front of Fenrys without fully knowing that he’ll stop before hurting his mate.

Lorcan rages at Nyssa to get away, which prompts Rowan to step in and declare Lorcan and Elide under Aelin’s protection.

Lorcan greets Nyssa by grabbing her hair and growling that if she ever tries that again, he’ll kill her himself. Nyssa nearly cries with relief and Lorcan embraces her tightly. Rowan addresses Lorcan stiffly and they all make their way back to shore.

Before they move, Nyssa draws her blade to Aedion’s neck and threatens that if he ever holds her back again that he’s dead.

Nyssa joyfully fills Lorcan and Elide in on her adventures, already reading the mating bond between Lorcan and Elide. She ignores Fenrys entirely. Elide loves Nyssa immediately.

Rowan and Lorcan have a discussion about Nyssa when they return to the boats, filling in the side of the story Nyssa could not. Rowan is displeased, but ultimately understands.

Fenrys tries to talk to Nyssa but she slaps him.

After the arrival of Maeve’s armada, Nyssa is one of the guards put on Elide. She accepts the order from Lorcan without question, vowing to protect the girl with her life.

When Maeve comes to take Elide, Nyssa manages to kill two of the guards before being grappled. Maeve is displeased to see her and Nyssa is horrified to see the Dark Queen in person again. Maeve simply states that they’ll have to talk later and calls Fenrys and Gavriel to her side.

Knowing it will be too late once they do, Nyssa makes an attempt to get to Elide. She slices the guard’s throat who has her and makes a running leap, but Fenrys appears and grapples her now. At the same time, Lorcan now has Elide. Maeve gives the order for them to all freeze and not run away.

Maeve reveals all about Aelin and Rowan and Nyssa cries in disbelief, now understanding that Maeve hadn’t sent her to Erilea because she was the least suspicious option but because Maeve delighted in knowing that Lyria’s daughter would be the one to protect Rowan’s true mate.

Nyssa attempts to fight out of Fenrys’s grip, to which Maeve instructs Fenrys to bite his mate- to claim her. Because of the blood vow, he does. Maeve tells Nyssa how disappointed she is and that they will discuss later about the punishment for breaking her promise. Maeve uses her darkness to render Nyssa unconscious, much to the horror of both Fenrys and Lorcan.

Nyssa is not conscious through Aelin’s lashings by Cairn and Fenrys is ordered to take her aboard the ship.

When they arrive back in Doranelle, Maeve has Nyssa beaten while she still has no magic- making both Connall and Fenrys watch.

Maeve delights in revealing that Fenrys and Nyssa are mates and Connall grows angry, still having believed that it was him. It’s another thing he holds against Fenrys.

Maeve ponders Nyssa’s usefulness as a tie between the twins and makes a show of deciding who Nyssa will be with. Nyssa is exhausted and broken, her wounds healing slowly.

Maeve reveals that this isn’t the full punishment for breaking the promise and Connall offers himself up to take the punishment in Nyssa’s stead.

Maeve merely laughs and states that she has a better idea. She uses the blood oath to make Fenrys hold Nyssa down while Connall carves into her back with his magic- the world Oathbreaker in the Old Language over and over again down Nyssa’s spine. Both brothers are horrified, but have no other choice and the word is branded into Nyssa.

Only then, Maeve reveals that the punishment has been paid and gives Nyssa the chance again to swear fealty- finally offering her the blood oath because her Cadre’s numbers have dwindled with the loss of both Gavriel and Lorcan. She also tells Nyssa that should she accept, Nyssa will have the choice of whose bed she will take- Connall or Fenrys.

Nyssa, seeing no other choice, takes the blood oath to Maeve, but uses the last remnant of her magic to burn the blood away before it can enter her system.

Going back on her word, Maeve uses her magic to twist Nyssa’s mind- making her believe Connall to be her true mate despite the blood oath. When Maeve then offers up the choice between them and Nyssa chooses Connall. Fenrys is practically a statue at this point. Maeve then orders the couple to make love every dusk and every dawn, the blood oath taking effect on Connall but Nyssa knows if she is to refuse then she would reveal what she’d done.

Maeve then considers how entertaining it would be to make Fenrys watch the couple, but reconsiders and orders him to stay in wolf form to watch over their new “guest”.

>to be continued after I read more of KoA<

#fenrys #fenrys moonbeam #rowan #rowan whitethorn #aelin #rowaelin #throne of glass #tog #empire of storms #lorcan salvaterre #elide lochan #OC #mate #connall #maeve

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drakewalkerfantasy · 5 years

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Beckett x Maeve Fluff ABC: Part 2 (I,J,M,Q-Z)

This is second and last part of Fluff ABC, first part can be found in my Masterlist. I hope you will like, what I got for Beckett and Maeve. Some of letters later may be become fics later (I totally plan to do this for D-Date) Hope you will enjoy it. I definitely had some fun writing it.

P.S. I’ll fix read more from home…. tumblr have a glitch

Tagging: @elles-choices @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @boneandfur @walkerismychoice @tmarie82 @ifyouseekheart @symonde @confessionsofabrokegirl @ludextruction @flynnomalleys @brightpinkpeppercorn @briarsunicorn @harrington-sinclaire @queen-among-writers @feartheendlesssummer

I – Inside Jokes (Do they have any?)

Maeve often say to Beckett, that he is like a Google, what means he doesn’t let you finish a sentence before making a suggestion. Meanwhile, Beckett started to call Maeve his petrol station after of hours of giving her to breathe Gas and Air pain relief during her first labours. Also occasionally Beckett may call Maeve ABCDEFGHIJK what means: Adorable, beautiful, cute, delightful, elegant, fashionable, gorgeous and hot. When he was asked what IJK means he replied that this means I’m just kidding for what he got a light but tangible blow to the hand, after which he quickly wrapped his hands around her, kissing her sweetly into the tip of her nose, and whispered: This means I just know.

J – Jealousy (Who gets jealous easier? How do they show their jealousy?)

They both are very jealous and possessive of each other. Although they rarely act on their jealousy as they trust each other unconditionally, they still occasionally get into arguments because of their insecurities gets better out of them. Usually if Maeve got jealous, she mostly feels anger and frustration on herself for this as she knows that she is the only one whom Beckett loves and he would never cheat on her. So if she feels threatened by someone, she do the only rational thing, kissing him fiercely on public, whispering in his ear what exactly she wants to do with him when they will get alone, forcing him to choke and blush furiously.

When Beckett feels jealous, he usually grabs Maeve by her hand in total silence dragging her away and fucking her hard in some private corner, claiming her and making sure she know exactly whom she belongs to. Maeve loves this possessively rough side of Beckett sometimes provoking him to act on his jealousy.

M – Movies (What kinds of movies do they watch together? Is it a regular Netflix ritual?)

Maeve’s favourite movies are mostly black and white some with an element of noir. Something about them captures her attention making her hold her breath till the last second of the film and her heart fluttering in her chest like a small bird trying to escape her golden cage. She likes that this movies allow her imagination to go wild putting the colour in the picture, being the one in charge. The mystery of these movies never leave her indifferent never failing to put her into the shoes of people from an earlier time, making her to feel a storm of emotions. Since this movies make such a strong impression on her, she treats them as a type of a dessert that you love, but get it just on a special occasions.

Beckett’s favourite movies except documentaries are family comedies. His favourite time of the day is when he finally gets home to spend some time with his wife and children. Their evening ritual before putting children to bed is settling on the sofa in front of the big TV with some snacks prepared by Maeve and watch some family comedies of children’s choice on Netflix. This is something, apart from other stuff, that make him feel like he finally has a family he always dreamed about. The family who loves him for who he is without any expectations, the family who feels real. After putting kids to bed they usually come back downstairs to watch some romantic movie. Settling comfortably in their living room, having a glass of wine while snuggling together under the blankets, he wraps his arms around Maeve, letting her lean back on his chest, laughing together quietly.

Q – Quit (Do they break up? Almost break up? What happened?)

They were broke up for 2.5 years as his mother feared that if Beckett and Maeve will be united and have a child someday will make Blood Attuned not existing. She never knew what true love is, but she found Beckett’s weakness and made him break up with Maeve to be able to protect her from his mother’s wrath. But they were broke up only technically as their feelings never faded and Maeve was only waiting for the time when he will get stronger for them and will be able to protect them both to finally get reunited with each other.

- Then please, make me understand, - her voice soft and tired, her deep forest-green eyes look through his broken heart and her hoarse whisper seems like a thousand miles away, while his grey, silvery moons eyes were focused on her lips, - look me in the eyes and tell me, this was all a lie.

-Mae…, - Beckett’s throat becomes dry as he follows the tip of her tongue running along her velvety lips, knowing that he cannot lie to her… knowing that as soon as he will look her into these soul-piercing eyes, she will know the truth. He lifts his eyes meeting hers not able to break the gaze, feeling a lump in the throat and spoke, his voice barely above the whisper, - Sometimes, love is not enough. (part of Shard of Ice (Beckett x MC))

R – Rainy Days (How do they comfort each other on dark days?)

They both love spend rainy days in their home in Ireland sitting near to the fireplace and enjoying the intimate atmosphere of their place (at least before they children were born). Maeve prepares special peppermint hot chocolate the one her mother used to make for her dad and the one Beckett ones made for them.

Maeve quietly enters their living room placing the tray with peppermint hot chocolate mags in front of Beckett. His steely eyes wondering on the variety of food choices she placed, besides fresh tangy fruits and berries, he can see also some candied fruits and candy canes. He moves a little, freeing space for Maeve to sit next to him on a large quilted blanket with scattered cushions around them. Beckett turns on soft quite music and they sit hugging together feeding each other fruits and drinking hot chocolate, watching the soft dance of the fire flames, talking and laughing together. Their soft voices are heard in the silence of the room like a whispering meadow under the pattering rain. Beckett’s eyes met Maeve when familiar accords and words started to tune in their living room, the soft smile touched his lips:

What day is it? And in what month?

This clock never seemed so alive

Beckett slowly rose moving the tray aside, and taking Maeve’s mug of hot chocolate from her hands, placing it back on the tray. He extended his hand to Maeve waiting for her to place her small hand in his. His voice barely audible almost dying with the next accords.

- May I? - he asked gently, his silvermoon eyes look deeply into hers golden brown. He watched her gently placing her hand in his, squeezing it lightly, raising from the floor and letting him lead her to the elegant and slow temp of the waltz. They whirl in the dim light of their living room, while a familiar words followed their every move and heartbeat, and their shadows dancing on the walls.

I can’t keep up and I can’t back down

I’ve been losing so much time

Cause it’s you and me and all of the people with nothing to do

Nothing to lose

S – Soft (Something one of them did that turned the other into absolute mush)

Maeve got absolute mush after hers 19th Birthday surprise that Beckett prepared for her. He gone extra miles to make this Birthday unforgettable and extra special. He took her to the place called Aruland where turquoise ocean stretched in every direction to the horizon, the place that reminded her of her parents. And when in the middle of the ocean he told her for the first time he loves her in the same spot where her father told the exact words to her mother promising her forever and more, she cried feeling the happiness she didn’t feel for a very long time.

The time when Beckett got absolutely mush was the day when their daughter Alexandra Casey Harrington was born. This first sound of her cry after birth filled him with so much happiness and relief, that he thought his heart will be not able to hold all of it. His tears rolled down his cheeks not able to stop, while his eyes where focused on his wife’s exhausted, but happy face. He was so thankful to her for going through all this pain and fear, that he couldn’t find the right words to express this, instead he kept whispering “I love you, I love you, I love you” burying his face in her thick honey coloured hair.

T – Texting (Do they text each other a lot? What do they usually talk about over the phone?)

U – Unique (Tell us about some of their odd habits that surprised one another.)

To be honest none of the odd habits of each other made them surprised, more likely they were the ones that made them fall in love with each other even more. Maeve noticed that every time Beckett is nervous he starts stroking his hairs or trying to smooth his clothes. And when he is embarrassed he starts to rub the back of his neck. Another odd habit of his is to tap his fingers to the beat, be it in the car during a long drive or be it when he was immersed in reading a book.

Maeve doesn’t have a lot of odd habits, but if Beckett would be asked which one of them he sees as the most adorable he would definitely say when Maeve nervously bites on her lower lip. Every time she does this he wants to come closer and do this for her, gently taking her lower lip into his mouth grazing his teeth along it pulling a bit and then swirling the tip of his tongue on a place of the bite.

V – Vanity (Something they’re proud of in themselves and their partner)

Beckett is extremely proud of how quickly after graduation he was able to start a successful business and already in 2-3 years’ time he had opened numerous branches in other cities and countries. In a year time he already had two offices in United Kingdom, and by the time of their wedding he had gone as far as Japan for discussing business opportunities in there and to add another branch to their business. And he is proud that by the time of turning 22 years old with Maeve support he had Attuned Magickae Uirtus Award. Maeve is very proud of him getting this award and also by graduating a top of their class.

Maeve is proud that in a year time of becoming owner of the Sun and Moon shelter she could open a few branches in London and Ireland helping to more and more animals to find a new home. Beckett was so proud when she told him this and also he is extremely proud that she was the other person who graduated a top of their class not yielding to him.

W – Wedding (Tell us about your wedding head canon if they’ve gotten that far. Or if not, have they talked about it?)

They got officially engaged the day of their graduation and after a month started to plan their wedding. In three months after starting the planning their wedding day had arrived. If this would be Beckett’s will, they would get married as soon as he would get a special license for this, but after Beckett’s mother’s death, Maeve insisted for some time for him to mourn.

They chose a spectacular location for their wedding in Ireland, called Hag’s Head, the most southerly point of The Cliffs of Moher. This is a romantic place with access to the spectacular cliff edge providing an unrivalled view across the vast Atlantic Ocean. They met on the top of the cliff standing hand in hand in front of their friends and family feeling the light breeze greeting them on their wedding day. Maeve wore a beautiful strapless gown with the empire waist highlighting exquisite beadwork and embroidery design. The top of her dress was covered with Swarovski Crystals, rhinestones, pearls, and seed beads, and layers of Soft Tulle over Silky Charmeuse lining made up the baby doll silhouette. The thick white ribbon was tied over her growing baby bump, and the multilayered veil was pinned to her honey hair with a pearl brooch. She opted to the white ballet pumps, and by Shreya’s insistence, she also had something new, old, borrowed and blue. Beckett wore a simple black single-breasted jacket and trousers with a natural taper. His white evening shirt has a Marcella collar and double cuffs, with a turn-down collar and Sun/Moon silver cufflinks that Maeve gave him the night before as a wedding gift. His black bow-tie was matched with his highly polished shoes and socks. To top it up he had a navy colored handkerchief in the right breast pocket as a classic detail.

- Okay, are you ready, - excitedly squealed Shreya.

- Yes, I believe so, - breathed out Maeve calming her nerves, ready to step in the hallway.

- Wait… I don’t see anything old on you? Or borrowed in this case. I can see you have this bouquet with small blue flowers in it that will do as yours something blue.

- Shreya…

- Don’t even start. You need this and this is my responsibility as your maid of honor to remind you of this. Okay, this pearl bracelet… is it new?

- Yes, Beckett gave it to me as a wedding gift, - murmured Maeve fiddling with little silver-blue pearls circling her small wrist.

- Great, this will be your something new. Noooow, do you have anything old with you? Anything?

- This brooch is my family’s heirloom and this dress is my mother’s.

- Suppose this is definitely old…. and was worn before…, - she scrunched her nose, skeptically watching on the dress.

- Shreya, even don’t think of starting on this again, - Maeve laughed at her friend’s disapproving gaze.

- Okay, okay. Now I have something that you can borrow from me, these pearl earrings will be the perfect addition to your bracelet.

- Shreya, can we go now? - asked Maeve replacing her golden earrings with borrowed ones before exiting the room with a deep breath.

X – X (Something they hate about the other)

Beckett is totally getting annoyed sometimes, when she send him her pictures in underwear in very inconvenience time, for example during the meetings or a lunch with his business partners. He has suspicions Maeve knows exactly what she is doing with him when she sends him this pictures. The single glance on her half naked body makes him blush furiously, and make him hard in an instant and if their didn’t have sex for awhile this becomes a REALLY BIG problem, the painfully throbbing REALLY BIG problem in his pants.

Y – Youtube (What are they like online? Do they post about their relationship constantly?)

They don’t have much time for facebook, instagram or twitter. Beckett is busy with promoting his business that he started after graduating and with expanding it worldwide. Meantime, Maeve is busy with owning the shelter her parents founded and helping to find a home to as many animals and companions as possible. Also they both are involved deeply in raising their children and making sure they have the best childhood memories created as a family. Occasionally, they may get into online chat with their friends as they all live on the other side of the ocean.

Also they do Skype video calls with Katrina, and Maeve’s adoptive parents as they all want to be part of their children growing up.

Z – Zoo (Are they into animals? Do they want pets? What kind?)

They are definitely into animals and not only companions but also into dogs and cats. On Maeve’s 19th Birthday Beckett brought her to the animal’s shelter the one that was founded by her parents, and the one where Beckett helped not only by generous donations he made regularly but also helping out when he had spare time. During this time they also adopted together one of the puppies. Also, after their first visit, they both started helping there and Maeve became the new owner of this place, investing money and helping to find a home to as many animals and companions as possible.

#beckett harrington #beckett x mc #the elementalists #te #long post #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #fluff abc #fluffy abc #fluff abc part 2

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iamvegorott · 5 years

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A story, I've never finished. (Fae! Anti's backstory.)

(A story began by the lovely @lavenderamy )

My name is Anti well, that’s the title I gave myself after the accident that changed my life forever. I died and I still am very much dead, the is no real way to escape that fact anymore no matter how much I want to hide it. The day “it” killed me and left this hellish scar across my neck as a reminder to what I once was, what I am now, and what I will always be. My life was so wonderful before that happened, I was a regular fae, growing up with my protectors, well what you humans call mother’s and father’s, they were so lovely and yet thinking about them hurts. My older sister Niamh and older brother Samuel were just peachy towards me, every day I loved it and loved them. My childhood was fucking amazing, it was just the only time where I was truly happy and didn’t hate myself for who I am today.

I grew up in Ireland, we lived underground in old fairy mounds, across the western sea, in an invisible world that coexists with the world of humans. I was adopted by my protector Maeve, she was my world after my father left and my human mother died, I lived with her for years learning as much as I could about the aes sídhe. I was a Gancanagh, which means ‘love-talker’, I was a male fairy being of the same tribe as the leprechaun, but, unlike them, we personated love and idleness, it was considered very unlucky to meet us, and whoever was known to have ruined his fortune by devotion to the fair sex was said to have met a gancanagh. I was just a baby when Maeve found me, being held tight by my dying mother who held on just long enough to ask this of her. “Please take care of my baby, I know not where his father went but I know that he mustn’t stay in this world, would you grant me the wish of keeping my baby alive?” Maeve accepted and lay my mother to rest, every time she tells that story it makes me wonder what my mother was like, and who my dad really was. Niamh and Samuel always treated me like family even if they knew I was not, we grew up together and they would always be so nice to me, hell every one of them was nice to me even though I was different.

I spent most of my time outside talking to the animals who understood me and I them, listening to the trees tell me how they felt about Maeve’s gardening, (she apparently was terrible at it), no matter what it always made me smile. The sounds of the forest was my lullaby, nothing was more calming to me than rain, the soft pitter-patter or even the heavy thunderous sounds and lightning flashes. Everything about this place was so perfect, just to be able to sit down in the grass, play with the horses, sheep, cows, and chickens, plant vegetables and fruits to have as a snack or for supper. I loved to help Maeve and Niamh out, with the instructions of the trees, by the way, they would always mock them for being terrible at everything when it came to being outside, in their eyes, they even breathed wrong. I loved the way they kinda hated everyone but me, that made me feel so warm and happy inside, even the animals loved me, I would really be the only one who talked to them, brush them, feed them, and play with them, we had a sheepdog that somehow wandered into our world, the truth about our dog was that it was a shapeshifter and came here to be protected by us. My infancy wasn’t something that was memorable, when I was four I let the dog in through the window to feed him and then go to bed. His name was Kylee and man was he fun, we were best friends, we ate together, played together, slept together, and bathed together, even if Maeve didn’t approve of the last one, we would go to splash around in the local river just for fun! At five I had just learned that he could talk and we would whisper until Maeve yelled at us to go to bed. I was six when I finally was allowed out by myself, I always let Kylee tag along with me, I made him a seashell and vine bracelet that he kept.

When I was seven Maeve left us. She was gone for days and neither Niamh nor Samuel knew where she had gone. I kept asking every single day, even during most of the night I couldn’t sleep, cause I was worried about her. I wanted her home. I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I wanted my Ma to come back. Some days I became unresponsive, I wouldn’t eat, I wouldn’t go outside, I couldn’t sleep and I refused to talk to anyone. I just wanted to see her again, I didn’t want her to leave me again… She kept so many secrets from us but whenever she came back, she would act like nothing happened. I needed to know what she was keeping from us, so one night while everyone was sleeping, I snuck into her room. I knew that it was wrong but I needed to know what she was doing, who she talked to, why she got so many letters from the same person, why they would make her leave us…

Leave me…

I twisted her doorknob slightly to check if it was locked. A soft click was heard as the door creaked open and I walked in, letting it slowly creak closed behind me. Why would she leave her door open? That’s stupid but at the same time, good since it wouldn’t draw suspicion to everyone else, but to me that makes it worse. No one ever questioned her or her actions and even still, we couldn’t place why she wouldn’t tell us anything about where she would go. I was a very curious child and though I had a strong head on my shoulders, I couldn’t help but want to make sure she wasn’t involved in something she shouldn’t be. I carefully walked around her room, making sure not to make any kind of noise. I looked around the contents of her room and walked over to her bed, slowly setting myself down onto it, with a minuscule creak. I felt something stab my leg making me jerk in the other direction, only to hit the wall with a soft thud noise. “Fuck that hurt…” I whispered and covered my mouth immediately afterward. I didn’t want Kylee to hear me or find me in here alone, let alone risk waking Niamh up from her beauty sleep. If I woke her, man that would not end well for me. She got extremely cranky when she hasn’t gotten enough sleep and though Sam would wake himself up, he still would never be as bad as she was when she didn’t want to be awake. I turned around to find the sharp object and pulled it out of the bed slowly, my eyes widened as I realized what it was.

A knife…

Why would she have a knife in her bed?

It didn’t cut me, luckily enough I was fine but even though I was okay that doesn’t mean I won’t be asking her about it later or keeping this pretty knife. I slipped off the bed and landed on my left hand, sliding the knife into the pocket on my right side and set myself down on my legs. A soft creak escaped the floor as I made my way towards her desk, pulling at each one, the top drawer was full of trash and pictures that I made when I was younger, just stupid scribbles but I was happy that she at least kept them. The second drawer was filled with writing equipment, there was this really pretty fountain pen that Niamh and I made for her, I closed the drawer then made my way to the last one. The third drawer was filled to the brim with letters from “The Fairy Queen”? Who the hell was that? I haven’t heard of her but still, she sounded important, I guess. I put the letter back and closed up the drawer only to jump when I heard a soft knock on her door.

Oh shit! I need to hide but where?

I hastily searched around until I spotted her closet and ran inside of it, closing it before her door was opened. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I didn’t close that drawer! No! Fuck, I’m such an idiot, shit! Please don’t find me!

Eight through eleven weren’t very fun for me, I was still trying to find my place as an adopted child and everyone was trying to keep an open mind but there were these boys who just hated me for no reason.

When I talked to Maeve about how she happened to meet my mother, she would always tell me that she was on a mission to find a runaway Fae in the name of The Fairy Queen. Though she never told me who she was looking for before she found me, I always wanted to ask but never found the courage to do so. Throughout the time I lived with them she would always disappear and leave Samuel in charge; Niamh took care of me as best as she could and even now we get along quite well. Samuel kept to himself most of the time, he would go outside and sit under trees to draw or practice the flute, something that Niamh made him after coming in contact with some things that washed up on shore. She loved to tinker with random things and make Sam, Ma, herself and I things; my favorite would have to be the pearl necklace she would always wear, same went for Ma, she would wear the gold and sapphire earrings that Niamh made. Kylee spent most of his time with me and I never understood why he loved hanging out with me, though no matter what everyone would always look at him weirdly. I never understood why they wouldn’t talk about most things whenever he was around but I just brushed it off as it was inappropriate for me to hear.

I was 12 at the time when Niamh called out for me, to come into the mound but once again I didn’t want to because me and Kylee were having fun. It was early May and close to my birthday, though late in the afternoon and I was just soaking up the light rain and crisp air with him. “Anlon! Anlon Caoimhe O'Keeffe! Come here ya crazy lad! Ma wants to talk ta you!” I ran over towards her and gave her a big hug, Kylee licked all over her and my face. “What’s the craic, Niamh?” I asked but was muffled by her breasts, she laughed as I pulled away with blush against my face. I have always had a crush on her, even though I knew it was strange, she was 7 years older than me, but nowhere near related to me. I loved her but hated her partner, he was just the worst in my eyes but that was only because of jealousy, I felt she deserved better even if it meant younger, I was willing to do anything for her but she just laughed and kissed my cheeks. She treated me like I was a child like I didn’t know what I was talking about, I was a quick-witted lad but what she needed was a man and that was all me, baby!

“I don’t know, Ma just wanted me to get ya! Go ask her that questions, Anlon. You cheeky lad, now Kylee come and get yer supper.” Kylee followed her so quickly, you would have sworn she had put him under a spell. “Ma! Where are ya at?” Maeve answered me from afar. “In the sitting room lad, come here!” Great, what did I do now? I haven’t been bad in weeks, at least I hope not, maybe it was because of Kylee and I playing in the river without her permission? I never got in trouble for it now so what changed, maybe I should have told her before we left but she never asks anyway. I walk into the sitting room and cozy up next to Maeve. “What’s the craic, Ma?” She looked over at me and ran her hands through my soft brown curls, gently and very slowly. “Anlon, I know you understand what it means when you’re adopted, right?” I nodded slowly with a smile. “Good, now you understand how it may feel for Niamh ta have to know ya have an American term 'crush’ on her. She doesn’t feel it’s right, because we basically raised you after the passing of your mother.” I push her hand out of my hair and frowned. “Really! That’s all ya called me for?! Ta tell me that I have a crush on someone who’s been there for me, my entire life and has loved me unconditionally! Ma why you know that was really a private matter that you blurted out in front of Samuel and the person this matter concerns!” I got carried away, I didn’t mean to yell it just came out that way. “Calm down, Anlon I know this is hard for ya, but you still have ta consider yer sister’s side of the tale.” I didn’t care what Niamh wanted to say right now, I just wanted to go sit in my room and talk to Kylee. “Fine what’s up, Niamh?” I asked with a frown, I was so fucking pissed at her. “Anlon, I’m sorry for telling Ma about this, but ya know it’s weird for you ta like me in that way, right? Because no matter what laddie, I’m your sister and I don’t want you ta get any ideas once yer older. I will only see you as my beautiful baby brother, nothing more, nothing less.” She calmly stated and went to hug me, I punched her in the gut and screamed at her. “I don’t want a fucking hug, you stupid bitch! You betray me then think I’ll forgive ya in three seconds! No! That’s not how this shit works, I’m going upstairs with Kylee, don’t fucking bother ta come get me for supper, I’m not hungry…” Everyone looked at me with concerned but surprised faces. “Anlon, I’m sorry-”

“No Niamh, don’t you fucking dare try ta apologize ta me! I don’t want ta hear it, just leave me alone! I hate you so much right now, no little apology will change that!” I ran up to my room, well the little space where I slept.

Kylee followed behind me, walking into my room and closed the door with his nose. “Kylee why is everyone so stupid?” He licked my face and rolled onto his back, panting and barking softly for me to rub and scratch his belly. “Fine you silly dog, one tummy rub then yer gonna answer that question.” I scooted over to him and rubbed his tummy, making his tail wag and his ears perk up. “Anlon, that’s enough, now to the question. I believe your sister was just trying to protect your feelings, instead of just outright telling you no, she chose to involve Maeve who she thought could break the news to you easily but in the end, it did not go as planned. Understand this Anlon, she’s not stupid, just concerned about you likeing her and you could have dealt with the panic better than that, you hurt Niamh and called her a bitch. How do you think she feels now?” I looked at him and kissed his nose. “You always know what to say Kylee, but I shouldn’t have ta apologize to her! She hurt me before I even got the chance ta, maybe even explain why I liked her, I could’ve at least tried to make it not seem weird between us. Thank you for listening to me Kylee, now who wants more belly rubs?!” I rubbed his tummy and giggled as he kissed me all over my face. “You’re nasty, Kylee stop it!” He sat down and looked at me with wide puppy dog eyes. “Sorry Anlon, wanna take another bath?” I hugged him and he hugged me back. “Yeah, but how do I sneak passed Ma?” He ran towards the door and scratched it. “You wanna leave?” He barked happily and continues to scratch the door, I opened the door and let him out. He dashed down the hallway and I followed behind without hesitation, watching him jump up and lick all over my Maeve’s face.

I snuck passed him but bumped into Samuel and quietly begged for him to let me pass, thankfully he doesn’t really care about arguments. “Anlon where do you think you’re going?” Niamh called out from the living room and Maeve finally calmed Kylee down. “To tha river ta clean myself off, Kylee licked all over me and it feels nasty.” She gave me a bewildered face and looked over to Kylee, who was rolling around in the floor. “Kylee show yourself before I skin ya alive!” His ears twitched and he stopped moving completely, slowly raising up onto his hind legs and becoming more human-like. Once his fur and animalistic features were almost gone, Maeve wrapped his lower half in a towel, cause dogs are usually naked and she wasn’t sure if he would be too. He was just wearing a pair of black shorts and the bracelet I made him when I was six. “Yes Niamh what is it that you need of me?” She walked over calmly and slapped him, I have no idea what he did wrong but hey as long as she didn’t slap me I was cool with it. She turned towards me, I may have spoken too soon, but she didn’t lay a hand on me, she just went back into the living room. “I understand why you lay your hand on me, young Niamh. I will do everything in my power to right this wrong. Come now Anlon, let’s take a bath and then maybe enjoy some supper once we’ve completely cleaned ourselves.” What the fuck does he mean by 'righting this wrong’? What did he do wrong? I have so many questions that my head hurts, but I’ll ask them when we’re far away from the mound where they can’t hear us.

I opened the door and walked out quickly, dragging Kylee along with me, he stayed in his human form the entire time we ran away. “Anlon, what’s the matter?” He asked and I stopped to look at him. “Pick me up so I can kiss it to make you feel better.” Now, Kylee was an adult and much taller than I was, but he treated me like I was an adult even if I wasn’t at all. “Yes of course Anlon.” He picked me up and looked into my eyes and I looked into his as well, he was so pretty and strong. I loved how soft his hair was, how quiet his breathing was, his embrace was calming and his bare chest was warm, his smile was inviting and yet mischievous, but best of all he let me kiss away his boo-boo. “What are you thinking about, Anlon?” I looked at him and blushed, staying silent and finished kissing his cheek to make him feel better. “Nothing Kylee, let’s get cleaned up alright?” He put me down and grabbed my hand gently, just to make sure I didn’t run off. It was okay to love him, he’s my best friend, we grew up together, technically we did.

He was already a teenager when we met and I was four years old, he would keep me warm at night even if Maeve didn’t know he was in the house, I would let him in through the window and feed him, then go to bed. “Anlon, once we get to the river I have to tell you something.” I looked up at him with a small smile and pinched his side. “I know that, I was gonna ask you about what happened anyways. When we get there can we dive and swim together?” He pinched my cheek and picked me up by the arm, lifting me up into his arms and kissed my forehead. “Of course we can. We can do whatever you want to do, just ask me and your wish is my command, young Anlon.” We made our way down towards the river and noticed some other kids were splashing around in the water, not that I minded but I just wanted it to be me and Kylee this time. I wanted to just be alone to talk about what the fuck just happened, I mean I could shoo my friends away but they would just try to pick on me like they always did, I was shorter than them, more feminine, and always hung out with Kylee, like I depended on the dog, which I kinda did. I needed him more than anything sometimes, the thoughts that I would have were worrisome and Maeve would always ask him to help me sort them out. Even though I never understood why she would always turn to him when I had those kinds of thoughts but I’m not complaining, he had a way around words that I could never wrap my head around. It sounded so sweet and persuasive, I wanted to sound like that especially whenever Niamh would bother me, I could sweet talk her into making me some porridge or giving me some honey.

“Kylee is there anyway you could ask them to maybe move just a tad, so we can talk about this and not be interrupted?” He let me down and walked over to my friends, soon they moved over to the other side of the river. “Anlon! You may now bathe!” He called out and I ran towards him, and jumped into the river, clothes and all. “Maybe you should have taken off your clothing first, that would have been smarter.” He sat down on the moist ground and watched me, not like stalking me but more caring, like a parent making sure their kids didn’t run off to find the fountain of youth and get lost. “Come in with me! We still need ta talk about this Kylee! You said we could swim and dive together anyway!” I looked at him with wide eyes and a pouty face, with the quivering bottom lip, it gets him everytime. “Yes I do recall saying that I will be doing that with you, however if you wish to have me explain why young Niamh slapped me, I must refrain from jumping in so quickly. Do not fret Anlon, I will join you shortly.” He ran his hand through my hair and smiled at me, those mercury eyes always scared me but at the same time they intrigued me. What secrets lie behind those beautiful eyes, I would love to know everything there was to know about him.

“Anlon, the reason why Niamh slapped me was because I was helping you get out of the mound once again, she dislikes that I always help you out of any situation, no matter how childish it may be. I treat you as if we are father and son, all I want for you is to be happy and have fun and experience a childhood instead of dwelling on your past, as to how you never had a real mother or father. I enjoy your company as you do mine, Samuel and Maeve may not care as much but Niamh seems to want to make sure you have more discipline than you already possess and I find her to be very conceited even if she doesn’t want to admit it. Now I will dive in with you but do tell me your opinion on the matter at hand.” I grabbed his hand and tugged at it. “C'mon Kylee!” I knew that I wasn’t strong enough to pull him into the river but I will try my hardest no matter what. “Alright Anlon, I’ll join you.” He got up and walked into the river with me, he never winced at the sudden cold or even extreme heat, it’s like he didn’t feel the change whatsoever. I hugged him and he hugged back, he was so warm and calm, I could take a nap on him right now. “Don’t get too comfortable, we still have to enjoy Maeve’s supper. Once we are done, then you may rest with me.” I drew little circles against his chest and pinched his nipple. “Mwuhaha! I’m evil and you can’t stop me!” I let him go and swam away as fast as possible, creating a distance between us before he completely caught me off guard.

I bumped into him even though he was behind me a few seconds ago, I looked at him with a wry smile and dove under the water quickly. He grabbed my ankles and lifted me out of the water with the silliest grin on his face. “You forgot that I can teleport, didn’t you?” I tried to punch him but my arms were too short and I hated him for having long arms! “Fuck you and your long arms! That’s so unfair! I want teleportation!” It seemed like such a cool power to have, all you have to do is imagine where you want to go and you can just go there! I want that power so much, it looked so fun! “If you want to learn how to hone in on your own powers then I can help you.” My eyes widened with excitement, and I almost vibrated out his hands. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Please Kylee, teach me!!!” I blurted out and got a loud laugh out of him. “Calm down Anlon, your friends are looking at you very strangely, but I will help you with those powers of yours. Especially your ability to phase through objects, still haven’t the fainted clue as to how you gained that ability.” He released my ankles and I fell back into water, landing on my hands and flipped onto my feet. I looked at him with a cheeky grin and laughed before answering him.

“Maeve said my Ma had this power! I don’t know how she knew about it but I feel like I’m closer to her just by using this power and embracing my humanity! Also yeah Niamh and I have always had a very awkward relationship, though we both love each other, it got very weird when I began ta see her as someone aside from my sister, I began to feel warm inside whenever I was around her, not in a good way either. The feeling was more like I wanted to kiss her on the lips, not on the cheeks like we usually do, I don’t like this feeling that I have but there is also some jealousy towards her partner and I just want ta make it all stop. I don’t want to feel this way about her, I hate it so much, why does she have be so fucking hot, it’s driving me mad! The way her beautiful golden eyes with chartreuse-lime speckles light up whenever she finds something on the beach or in the woods that she can tinker with, her deliciously chubby pear-shaped body and those ta die for hazelnut freckles, fuck me! Her wings, damn I can’t even try to describe her wings they’re just too gorgeous! Her fair vanilla skin, round eyes, beautiful pink lips, her smile is like a breath of spring, and her voice is soft like summer rain whenever she talks or sees me, the way the beauty mark above her lips moves when she smiles as well as her teeth that shimmered like ivory, her beautiful long curly ginger hair with gold and white strands, I would love to brush through all of it… Her ginger hair and sparkling eyes flashed like the morning sun on the horizon. The long elegant red and green dress that she favors, tickles my fancy as well, those are two of my favorite colors and she rocks them with all the confidence in the world! Niamh Zinovia O'Keeffe! Why do you make me hurt and yet feel so good at the same time?” I covered my eyes and curled into a ball, slowly sinking in the water, before someone pulled me out of water.

“Don’t let Niamh hear you talk about her like that or she’ll avoid you.” Samuel looked at me, those scarlet-cherry eyes with arctic blue speckles and a small grin on his face. “Hey Sam, what’re ya doing out here?” I asked sheepishly as he carries me to land and just drops me. “Mom wanted me to come and get you for supper. Dry off and get your glad eyed self in the fucking mound.” He walked off not even checking to see if I was okay, though he did laugh quietly to himself. I hope he didn’t hear all of that, I would fucking slit my throat if he heard all of that shit. He dropped towels on Kylee, when did he have time to do that? Kylee handed me the towels and a change of clothes, that I didn’t even see Sam give to him. “Come now and get dried off Anlon, we mustn’t be late for supper. Maeve would have our heads if we don’t show up on time, if we’re late again for what was it? The 7th time, I believe? I’m happy that she is very forgiving of our absence but this time she refuses to overlook it.” He hands me the towels and the spare clothing, ushering me into the woods to change while he stands guard. “Her supper isn’t even that good sometimes, that’s why I skip it!” I laughed and he joined in shortly, eventually we both calmed down just as I finished drying off and getting dressed. “I’m supposed to be the dog and even I don’t like her cooking. She doesn’t know how to season properly, so it all just comes out bland.” We both laughed extremely loud and hard that I started to wheeze and snort. “Calm down, Anlon. Do not exasperate your condition, do you want me to carry you into the mound, so that you may catch your breath?” My long black lashes were slack with tears, as I nodded my head and coughed. He gently picked me up by my waist and held me against his chest. His breathing was quiet and calm, even as he sped towards the mound. “Kylee, can I ask you something?” I whispered. “Yes well technically you just did ask me a question, but what is it that you wish to ask of me?” He replied sweetly even if he was being an ass at first.

“Can I you be my dad, since I don’t have one?” He slowed down to a stop right in front of the mound and looked at with a shocked expression. “What brought on this? I mean yes, of course I would love to but this will only be between us, Niamh, Samuel, and Maeve cannot know about this. Do I make myself clear?” His eyes lit up and grew darker just as he finished his sentence. “Crystal, but can you put me down before we go in?” He set me down and opened the door. “Anlon! You both are just in time, Kylee would you like to join us at the table?” Maeve asked and he bowed, which for some reason he always did towards her and Niamh. “Yes Maeve, I would love to join you at the table. Thank you for your generous offer and I wholeheartedly apologize for being late those other seven times, yet you forgave our tardiness with you endless generosity.” He kissed the back of her hand and sat down next to me. “Kylee what was that about?” He placed a finger over his lips and smiled softly, giving me the signal to be quiet and wait until later. We sat there and ate our dinner, this time the porridge was sweet, flavored with vanilla, orange, and honey. “Ma! This tastes so good!” I said with my mouth full, taking large gluttonous spoonfuls and shoveling them into my mouth. “I didn’t make it, Niamh did. She came up with the flavors and just the right consistency it should be.” I stopped and glared at her, coughing a bit.

“Well then, it tastes like shit. I’ve lost my appetite, c'mon Kylee let’s go.” I got up and went to my room, opening the door just long enough for Kylee to come in, then I slammed the door behind me. “That was uncalled for, she went out of her way to cook for you and you basically spit it in her face! Do you know how sad she looked once you said that!?” I looked at him with blush across my face. “I like that you care about this silly fight we’re having. Niamh is my sister and I’ll have ta accept that fact for now, I’ll say sorry tomorrow, but for right now I’m tired.” He grabbed my lotion and passed it to me. “You did just finish a bath and the smell always helped you sleep.” I took it from him and used it on my arms, legs, face, tummy and chest, that was all I could reach. Kylee grabbed my lotion and took some out, slowly lifting my shirt and putting the lotion on my back, rubbing small circles as he massaged my back. He pressed my face against his chest and picked me up, slowly laying down on the bed with me on top of him. “Anlon, I bid you a good night’s rest.” I laughed a little bit but got quiet as he covered us up and rubbed larger circles into my back. “Nighty-night Daidí.” I listened to him yawn as my mouth did the same, I rested my head. Right before I fully drifted of to sleep, I felt a soft kiss placed atop my head. “Sweet dreams, my son.” I smiled softly as I finally went to sleep wrapped in warm scents, very thick covers and my best friends arms.

#lavendaramy #submission #antisepticeye #Fae!Anti

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lunacanis99 · 5 years

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Mantle of Flames summary

As promised! A summary of the story so far.

Enjoy!

The story so far:

Tharizdun was a deity hungry for power who once sought to rule over the astral planes and all the creatures in this. Driven to madness by creatures even more ancient than him they fed into his ideas and convinced him to plant a seed of evil in the astral sea. But even in his madness he knew his fellow gods would turn on him should he do that, so he reached and found an Ally in Tiamat, convincing her to act as a distraction to the other god’s while he took control. In return he promised her power and freedom. So she started a war with Bahumat, one that raged for many years. However none of the other gods were distracted by this so when Tharizdun did make his move they quickly moved against him and sealed him away before helping Bahumat and his strange assortment of many young dragons, the 5 purebreeds of which became famous but many more half breeds were involved, to seal away Tiamat in a slightly less powerful prison (as most of their ability had been spent sealing Tharizdun). Because of how many dragons fell in the war between the dragon gods the previously rare habit of dragons breeding with other species became more popular and countless types of dragons sprang forth.

Which brings us to our story today, thousands of years later on the continent of Obea when our four "heroes" (I use the word VERY loosely) are all kidnapped by the Cult of Lason, a cult of drow led by a drider queen called Haldriia and her general The Storm Sage, with the intent to sacrifice them to Lolth. The group escape the clutches of the cult after a narrow escape from an encounter with said general only to find themselves in the small town of Blackburn helping free a Druid girl from being hung. And next thing they know they're fighting a werewolf, then a displacer beast. Only then do they interrogate a drow named Tazd and get sent to talk to a member of the council of Alamoa named Inari. Inari confides in the group that she already suspected a traitor amongst the council and the group find themselves attending a banquet of the council and picking out Zeanna as the traitor. Only when they follow Zeanna with the help of new ally and quick friend Kyo do they come face to face with the real might of the cult: a young adult green dragon named Sondry. From this moment on the four friends are on the trail of the cult, first rescuing the emperor's daughter from their clutches, thus earning Bao Moonclaw's favor (his high guard Buck is less enthused, but eventually befriends the party as well) before following the trail of an escaped Tazd to an underground fortress right up to one of the captains of the cult Valefar: the Deceiver. Many misadventures are had as the group hone their skills and grow stronger, including an incident where they nearly get Kyofushin executed for being a fiend and finding Tazd has turned to the side of good, before they're called on by Mairon's uncle to help take down a wild dragon he'd raised. However, in the ensuing battle against the young white dragon, Alistair is slain and the group quickly decide to travel to his home town of Blue Harbor to revive him. After succeeding a resurrection ritual with the help of Bane's 3 angels and raising Alistair from the dead the group find themselves back on track, following leads of the cult to a town taken over by none other than Zeanna. But at that same time a split party discovered Alamoa under siege by Sondy and the Storm Sage and they had to make a decision, opting to abandon the town and let Zeanna escape in favor of defending the city. Many fall, including a council member, a friend, and Buck the high guard but most live before the party, along with Canary's brother Denico, set off to chase down and slay Sondry where he rests in the jungle. Only later, when they find Valefar still alive and captured by skyrates, do they realize Buck is in a similar situation: still alive and captured by the cult, and they use the deceiver to find and rescue him. It's not long after that they find themselves once again face to face with the Storm Sage, and through they have Tazd on their side, he has Valefar. And, after a long brutal fight, Valefar and The Storm Sage lie dead, but so does Mairon. Another revival ritual is attempted, this time cast by Mairon's boyfriend and cleric of Corellon Carric Vax, and another resurrection is successful, bringing Mairon not only back to the group, but to the service of Corellon as well. All's not well though as a corruption has been budding in Canary for months now and, at this moment, it starts to take full control, warping her mind impossibly further and making her dangerous. But the group make the decision: face the queen, then cure Canary. So, guided by Tazd's brother Kovu, they head to the underground city of Regalia and confront Queen Haldriia. But, instead of killing her, they heal her. Using a forged rite of remove curse to undo the curse having turned her into a drider and bring her back into the light, ending the cult of Lason for good.

However, when they get back they find Alistair's mate, a powerful witch named Maev waiting for them with Kyo and Inari, and they quickly go into to ritual to cure a suddenly unwilling Canary before they realize: someone has to give up their life to cure her, and Kyo already decided to be that someone. The party take time to recover in their new keep, but can't rest long before a new enemy comes to town. Canary's betrayer ex-fiancé Ryder, who has come for the powerful weapon of a god. And the worst part, he gets it and gets away. Canary decides she's had too much, that her mind isn't in the right place even after having the corruption removed, and decides to step out of the group, leaving her old friend: a blood angel named Jet, to take her place.

But a new threat is on the horizon. Althaea, the party's Druid, has been dying and coming back to life but losing a bit of herself each time. And she's not the only one, a group of people called proxies including a council member named Erabus all owe their lives and their selves to the creatures bringing them back, fallen angels of Tharizdun that have become corrupted beyond recognition calling themselves Vassals, bringing back these people to build up strength to free Tharizdun and Tiamat. But even an adventuring party like Church and State (yes that's what they called themselves) can tell when something is above them, and work on helping their friend in the background while helping others at the same time. First rescuing Neer, the captured half angel brother of skyrate captain Lynn and their gunslinger friend Sam from a cruel enemy captain and slaver named Captain Hunter. Only during the battle Althaea falls, and makes a deal to owe the Vassals in return for temporary power. Then they find themselves solving a murder in the home city of Mairon, relieving her uncle Melkor of the charges to pin it on JewlClaw, one of the leaders of the group following the Vassals called the Linked Society, who also turns out to be a beyond ancient green dragon plotting to free Tiamat, only to have Mairon make a deal with that same dragon in order to be freed of her mother's overprotection. Then they find themselves breaking into the fourth circle of hell, escaping from the prison of the Incendium with a newly freed Kyofushin and freeing another beyond ancient dragon, a black named Yuronoshi in the process of getting a spell scroll to heal him of a feeblemind.

And now we catch up to today, where the party has been tasked by Jet's Angel mother Shadow to take down a Litch in the name of the Raven Queen. They've gathered their allies and have set out after this Litch in the hopes of scaling his tower to success. But Althaea has little left to give the Vassals that bind her. The Linked Society grows stronger every day. And Church and State knows they're climbing to face death.

So who knows where this story will lead them in the next sessions of Mantle of Flames.

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #Mantle of Flames #MoF

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beneathshadowsrp · 5 years

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DIANNA ARMSTRONG

FACECLAIM: KATEY SAGAL AGE: 53 SPECIES: WEREWOLF OCCUPATION: Dispatch at the Police Station ARRIVED: January 17th, 1965 DECLARED

“THE MATRIARCH”

tw: child molestation, murder, gore, death

Dianna Anne Gibson was born an average girl with an average name. Her father worked an average blue-collar job and her mom an average woman working part-time. On the outside, they were just an average, boring family. Bill and Maeve Gibson looked homely, were rooted in tradition, and their line dated back to the war when their family sided with Amos Chesterfield during the Supernatural Civil Wars. Ever since then, the Gibsons remained loyal to the Armstrong lineage, serving faithfully as Betas with each generation. They took great pride in this, given it was the only thing significant with the Gibson name tied to it. They didn’t have much, Pa always got the shit-end of the stick at work. He was accused of theft, of sexual harassment, anything that would put a known werewolf out of work and away from other humans. Ma worked in domestics, cleaning homes, elder care when the work came, sometimes watched the kids of humans. Without the Armstrong pack, the Gibsons were just another sad story of the oppressed, uneducated supernaturals in Shadow Falls.

When Dianna was in her teens, she started to spend more time with the pack. Bill wanted her to get closer to Atticus, the heir to the Armstrong Alpha throne. He was a few years ahead of her in school, but Bill wanted them to trigger their curses in the same batch. Four werewolves in the Armstrong pack killed that night, triggering their curses to become full-fledged members of the group that raised them. Dianna was the youngest, forced to kill at fifteen while the others were eighteen or a little older. She killed two men, whose names she would never forget: Lyle Randall and Fenrir Graaff. Atticus had found them-- the two were leaders of the local Eagle Scouts troop, but had been abusing their power with the little boys entrusted upon them. He had found photos the men kept as proof, newspaper clippings that suspiciously aligned with outings the men had planned. They were always each other’s alibi. Atticus knew that if Dianna was to trigger her curse, it was better to wipe out people who were better off gone. And he was right. Dianna was charged and fired up to avenge the boys who didn’t have a voice, and with Atticus, the scout leaders were no longer part of this world. It was that night, Dianna knew in her gut Atticus would be a good and noble alpha. It was that night, Atticus noticed the mystery in Dianna’s pretty eyes, the ferocity she could show when it came to protecting the weak. He was impressed she was so young, but was so brave. That she didn’t hesitate when it came to doing the just thing, the thing that was also right for the pack. They both told their fathers about the other, and soon, they were arranged.

Dianna truly admired Atticus. He was handsome, a little older to seem mature and cool, but not old to feel preyed upon. He was good to her, he was romantic, and most importantly (to her father) he would be Alpha, which would officially merge the average Gibson line with the noble Armstrong line. The Gibsons would no longer be nothing, they would no longer be average. She was chosen not because she was beautiful-- she was rather a plain girl and knew it. She had nice eyes, but no one really gave her a second thought. She wasn’t chosen because of her status-- there were other daughters of Betas in the pack that Atticus could have taken for a wife. She was chosen because time and time again, she proved she was brave. She wasn’t afraid to get dirty, she didn’t flinch at gore, she didn’t complain about the painful shifts. Her chin was up, eyes focused, and her heart always set on what the right thing for the pack was. When she was eighteen, she finally married Atticus Armstrong and took his last name. Years later, after they welcomed their only son and child into the world, Atticus put his father to rest and assumed his title. Dianna remained strong by his side, organizing the pack with him, taking hands-on roles with the wolves during full moons or troubling times. But as the years wore on, no matter how devoted Atticus was to the pack, she knew his devotion for her wavered. He was out later at nights, sometimes even gone for days at a time. She knew he would never leave the pack, and act as though she expected him to take these ‘surprise trips’ and lie and say she knew about them all along. She would call pack members to see if he was where he said he’d be, and he never was. But she held her tongue. She wasn’t a wife, she was a partner. She gave him an heir to instill the sacred pack traditions, she gave him support when he needed it as an Alpha. Her marriage woes were pitiful in comparison to the people and families they had to command. Mentioning them would disrupt the peace in the pack and make the Armstrong line look weak.

This went on for years. Dianna watched her son James grow up, proud that he was the product Atticus paid for. She loved her son, he was her only true family in that house, and found she shared the worry mothers of soldiers shared. As an Alpha, James would have a target on his back. There would be wolves after his title, there was a government that didn’t honor or respect his kind, and there were hunters and religious extremists in town. But he grew up strong and reminded Dianna so much of herself: strong because she had to be, because that was the expectation and that was the only option. Her son was thrust into the role of Alpha much sooner than anyone had anticipated. Atticus returned home from another ‘trip,’ this time, in a trunk. James had been the one to open the trunk and find him first: shredded remains of the once-mighty Alpha, soaking through the velvet material that lined the trunk. A decapitated head rested on top, eyes open and rolled back in a grotesque, unfocused glare. Jaw hung open, tongue black. Gaping in horror and some sort of macabre ecstasy. Dianna collapsed. She didn’t understand. Was she screaming? Was she shaking? Her ears blocked words out, blocked sounds out, blocked the frantic and trembled, broken cries that ripped out of her chest. She knew he was a philanderer, but at the end of the day, Atticus was good. He was an Alpha, the alpha that taught her she could be brave in the face of evil. That she could be brave when facing herself, her heritage, even if it meant she had to kill to make her family proud and to be accepted. He gave her the best thing in her life, their son. He wasn’t a good husband, but he was a friend. He had been a guide into the world their parents, their grandparents, built. He didn’t deserve this. He was supposed to die old, after they confronted his infidelities when she would smile and tell him it was okay, that she understood they weren’t soulmates. They would live quiet, discrete. He would die honorably, at the hands of his son like his father before him, in a ritual to pass down the Alpha lineage peacefully. This was the jarring, grotesque opposite.

She later would find out that his murderer was a jealous vampire. That Atticus had been engaging in an affair with a married vampire woman, been discovered by her jealous husband, and paid the ultimate price. James and the Betas went after the woman and man, avenging Atticus, while Dianna sat numb in the living room, staring at the few photos displayed in their home. A stoic family portrait in a small frame above the fireplace. A wedding photo of them barefoot in the woods. James as a baby, in Atticus’ arms with Dianna smiling. The perfect life she claimed to have when scrutinized about Atticus’ whereabouts, the cohesive family that blended so well they seemed almost like a sitcom family, was a lie. She had lied for him when he lied to her. Now James saw the brutal truth of his dad, and Dianna had to confront what she’d been pushing aside her entire marriage. Life eventually found its normalcy in new routines, as it usually did. James fit the role as alpha, with his own Betas and with Dianna offering help when she could. James had allowed her to step down, retire, but still be a pack member. He wanted to respect his mother’s grief and honor how much she had served the pack. When James came to her asking for her wedding ring, she finally felt life was entering a new chapter: There was hope. James would not make the mistake Atticus did, and his beloved Kelsie was a good fit. Dianna knew her story and knew the girl was strong, fierce, but kind and fair. The kind of woman Dianna had been when she married Atticus. But they would not repeat those mistakes. The pack would be alive with new life, new love, and hope for a brighter future. Dianna welcomed these new changes.

Then the Halloween Event of 2018 happened. James was murdered by an unknown assailant, the hows and whys never touched once by the police. The new chapter she thought she was entering turned out to be the end of a book. Dianna had lost all of her family, her only child and her hope that the world can be a better place. She has nothing to lose, years of wisdom and experience, and deep beneath all of those scars, that fighter is still strong in her.

-BEHIND THE CURTAIN-

Dianna was a tomboy when she was younger and grew up tough. She was always a realistic, down-to-earth, and a good blend of of a hard-ass and someone you could trust no matter what. She’s extremely loyal, but her loyalty will lead her to lie for those she loves, to be dishonest, or to prioritize some people over others. She has a good perception of what’s right and wrong, but nowadays, she operates under the guise that the world is a complicated place. There are people out there who want to take. There are merciless people. She’s protective to her core and without family, she feels a bit lost. The only title that really mattered to her was mother, and with no son, what is she? She also can rage like a tempest. That’s the mother bear in her. Ever since James’ murder and disappearance, she’s been raising hell with the local politicians, reaching out to supernatural rights groups, and harassing her coworkers at the police station to do something about her missing son. She was raised in a unjust world with a sense of justice, and she won’t stop until things are set right.

#dianna armstrong #werewolves #accepted #katey sagal fc

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smokehqs · 4 years

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VALENTINA NOTT

Occupation: Auror Age: 25 Gender: Female Pronouns: She/Her Blood status: Pureblood Allegiance: Order (spy), Death Eaters (publicly) Faceclaim: Stella Maeve

You never so much as toe-d the line. You checked every last one of their boxes, from the house you were sorted into to the career you chose to the person you got engaged to. You were the picture of perfect, of pureblood excellence, the one that parents held up as an example to their kids. But you knew in your heart that it was wrong, all wrong. So despite the mark on your arm, despite the prestige of your last name, you let yourself get pulled toward the light.

HISTORY:

Children learn from example and loyalty was on display to Valentina her entire life. There was a hierarchy obvious even to a toddler and it showed that as a human, she was above such creatures as house elves and that as a pureblood, she was worth more than someone from mixed parentage. She was a witch and she was worth more than her muggle counterpart, but not worth as much as other pureblood families like the Malfoys despite the fact both bloodlines were part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

Why, she often wondered, were they below them?

In a young girl’s mind, her family was special and important, she didn’t understand what decided who was worth more when their blood ran the same, but that knowledge came to her as she grew. Intelligence mattered some, yes, but money seemed to be an even larger factor because money was equivalent to power and her family seemed to thirst for that, grasping at it with clawing hands as the importance of purebloods dwindled and it became almost acceptable to be a muggleborn.

No. A mudblood. Their blood wasn’t pure, it was dirty, and it was important that they reminded of their place in the dirt when compared to real witches and wizards.

As a teenager, when Valentina would share her first kiss with a halfblood girl, she would think back to her mother explaining to her what a mudblood was and how vile they were, and she would think of how insecure someone had to be in order to say that. Insecure or threatened, because to be born with magic when there wasn’t a speck of it in your bloodline seemed to Valentina like a flower springing up through rock - something beautiful and powerful fighting for life in a place ill suited for it. They didn’t have the benefit of talking portraits teaching important history lessons or house elves to take care of accidents caused by bursts of childish magic. They didn’t have the chance to understand until they received their letter while purebloods were born knowing and had years to learn of their roles and potential before being tossed in with other witches and wizards to test their skill.

Muggleborns weren’t dirty, they were strong and they scared purebloods and Valentina could see it just like she could see the way her family recoiled from acknowledging power in anyone that didn’t have a pure lineage. After all, how could they claim supremacy over an entire group of people when magic could take root in someone born to muggle parents and leave them stronger than any family that had ever been called ‘Sacred’?

As the number of pureblood witches and wizards continued to slip and the number of muggleborns and halfbloods continued to grow, so did the strength of the hatred and fear Valentina saw in the faces of her family and their friends. It didn’t surprise her when their rage found a figurehead and Valentina knew her role just as well as her childhood friends did, her arm bared willingly to her new Lord.

She wasn’t just her father’s daughter, she was a daughter of the Nott family and Valentina had loyalty filling up her bones, she could feel the air shifting and the threat of a new world order on the rise, but she also saw the way people flocked to the Order, people on both sides willing to die for their cause. Her family was willing to kill in order to protect their own power, but the Order was filled with people willing to sacrifice for the rights of any born with magic.

Blood didn’t matter to magic. What made someone the right vessel to house magic inside their body wasn’t something Valentina understood, but the number of pureblood wizards was on the decline and magic would answer to anyone it chose without care for their parentage. Marriages with halfbloods helped preserve some wizarding families and muggleborns, whether her family wanted to see it or not, were the next wave in magic’s future.

Purity was an illusion. The only thing that made you pure was if magic chose you and then you had to choose what you did with your magic.

With a skull and a snake tattooed on her arm and the memory of an Unforgiveable curse on her tongue, Valentina chose the Order.

There were always risks in life and Valentina was never blind to the consequences of her choices, but she did make sure that she was always prepared to be ahead of the game compared to everyone else. Being a death eater wasn’t necessarily what she would have chosen for herself, but she knew her role to play ad she did it well, visibly fulfilling expectations even as her mind turned over the reality of the situation.

Did she have more faith in Dumbledore than in Voldemort? Perhaps. Perhaps not. What she did have faith in was that magic wouldn’t be controlled, that purebloods would destroy their gene pool with their inbreeding until their minds and their magic were both unstable. Some purebloods considered squibs to be just as shameful as someone with unclean blood, they would destroy themselves from the inside if they weren’t careful, but none of them seemed to realize that.

They thought they were too rich to ever be found weak, they thought their magic made them indomitable. Valentina thought they were stupid.

Stupid, but still dangerous, and even when she made her way to Dumbledore to offer her services, she didn’t turn into the warm and fun loving sort. She was a spy and if a death eater could look towards the order, why couldn’t someone in the order look towards the death eaters? Paranoia helped keep her alive as an auror and it was an instinct she considered to be well shaped under her boss’ guidance, and now it would help keep her alive as she played both sides to her own end.

The number of names that knew of her allegiance to the order was short, always listed on one hand. Albus Dumbledore. Alastor Moody. Pankaj Patil. Mirek Yaxley. Kingsley Shacklebolt. They were the ones she would share her information with, the ones that knew the careful balancing act that Valentina tries so hard to maintain even while knowing that at the end of things, she may very well put her own life above any sort of loyalty.

She couldn’t be brave if she was dead, after all. Corpses had no use and sometimes sacrifices needed to be made, a role that she doubted anyone was too good to play. Not even Ari escaped that fate. Ari, who was her intended for years, Ari, whom Valentina cared for and would have happily married. Those were all true, but Ari was also a death eater and never once did Valentina doubt that Ari would kill her if they ever found out that Valentina was a spy, so when the time came, Valentina didn’t hesitate to arrange for Ari’s arrest.

Sacrifices had to be made, and logically, Valentina always knew to value her mind over her own heart. Going by emotion would only get people killed and Valentina planned on seeing the war until its very end as she balanced out how much help she gave to both sides. She would slip the names of death eaters and their plans to her coworkers, then she would later on that day help a death eater evade arrest. It was what Voldemort expected of her, after all, although Valentina would admit in private that some of them were her friends. She would miss them, maybe, when they were locked up or killed, but a war zone wasn’t the place to get sentimental or attached, those were risks that people faced no matter what side they aligned themselves with.

Except no matter how much she tried, things were never that neat and easy. She could control herself, but she was never in complete control of anyone else, her suggestions and insinuations only going so far to guide the actions of others. She couldn’t stop someone from being caught making illegal deals, she couldn’t keep her brother from throwing punches, she couldn’t stop more death eaters from making their way into the office. The longer the war went on, the more strain there was and Valentina thought she understood what a spider felt like as the strings of its web were disconnected one by one. Things were slipping out of her control and she hated it, she always had, but never had the consequences been so severe before.

If only she could have her family leave the country. If only she could give away more information without sacrificing her own life. If only people weren’t so stupid.

If only…

CONNECTIONS:

Alecto and Amycus Carrow: Childhood friends

Ari Avery: Engaged

Lucian Ollivander: Terrifies

Dmitry Nott: Older brother

Sofiya Nott: Younger sister

Pankaj Patil: Fears for her

Adelaide Boot: Despised by

Madailein Brown, Victoire Fortescue (Deceased): Idolized by

Mirek Yaxley: Works with

Zahi Shafiq: Looked down on by

Kingsley Shacklebolt: Auror Partner

CLOSED · PENNED BY CL

#harry potter rp #marauders era rp #skeleton rp #mature rp #marauders rp #smokeskeleton #smokeskeletonclosed #valentina nott

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dontshootmespence · 7 years

Text

The Penrose Triangle

Part 2

Two weeks passed before he felt like he “came to” again. Apparently, he’d showered, eaten and drank enough to keep himself alive, done what necessary things needed to be done to live, but he honestly didn’t remember doing them. He felt like he was moving through sludge.

Dilauded had been his escape early on during his time with Bureau, but he’d quit years ago and hadn’t craved since. He thought about using it when Emily had died, but he hadn’t craved it since he got sober – until now. Everything fiber in his body wanted him to contact his old dealer and see what he could do for him – give him anything to stop the overwhelming pain he felt. The only reason he didn’t do it was because Maeve wouldn’t have wanted him to, and despite having only seen her face for 4 minutes and 13 seconds, the idea of watching her face turn down in disappointment at his return to drugs kept him from picking up the phone. Even when he was using, he didn’t feel like this much of an addict.

Then he’d taken a flight to help the team on one case. He was going to go back. Of course he was. The BAU was and remained his home, but he nearly didn’t.

That morning. That morning just three weeks after the love of his life had died. Words. More words popped up on his arm. He didn’t see what they were, but he saw what looked like ink. Without a second thought, he stormed into the bathroom and grabbed a roll of gauze, angrily wrapping it around his arm so that he would never have to see them. How dare the universe tell him he had another soulmate waiting around the corner when Maeve was barely in her grave for a month.

After using nearly the entire roll, he went back to his room to get dressed, but as he pulled on the shirt, the sleeve got caught on the enormous mountain of bandage. He tugged and teared at the shirt so much, it tore, leaving him to rip the shirt off, ball it up and throw it into the corner of the room.

He collapsed back onto his bed and sobbed. After three weeks of numbness, he didn’t think he could cry anymore, but here he was, dissolved into a pool of tears.

***

Weeks went by without him talking to anyone, interjecting in cases only when asked. The long swaths of silence frightened the team. No one was used to Reid being so quiet, but they also didn’t want to disrupt his grieving process; everyone grieved in their own way and on their own time. Who were they to judge how he went about healing himself?

But it still didn’t make them worry any less.

One day as they were about to get out of work, JJ decided to approach him; she could never have expected the reaction she got. “Spence, can I talk to you for a second?” All she wanted to do was assure him that he wasn’t alone.

“Not if it’s about what I think,” he said, snapping his head up from his desk. “I don’t want to hear how everything is going to be okay. I don’t want to hear how someone else will come along. I don’t want pity from someone who gets to go home to the person they love right now.” Spencer’s eyes stung with thick tears, in sadness, guilt for snapping at JJ, jealousy that she go to go home to Will when he’d never have the ability to go home to Maeve – all of it made him want to crawl out of his skin.

More than anything, he wanted to throw a tantrum – kick, scream and cry at the universe and how unfair it was, but instead, he’d snapped at JJ, and his mouth just kept going. “You get to stare down at your arm every night and see the words he first spoke to you. I don’t. I look down and there’s nothing anymore. Because she’s dead. I just don’t want to hear any of it Jennifer.”

With practiced fluidity, used to turning away from people when he was overwhelmed, he spun on his heels, pulling on his coat and taking strides toward the elevator. He watched as they closed, separating him from all those people – the ones that had what he so desperately wanted.

As the months wore on, he never once had the desire to look at the words hidden under his bandage. Once every few days, he would take the bandage off to change it, doing everything he could to make sure he never saw those words. It had been nearly a year since Maeve had passed, but for him, there was still no one else. His showering routine had gotten to a point where he no longer looked in the mirror and had perfected the art of wrapping his arm without truly looking at it.

The snapping incident that had occurred with JJ didn’t happen again – with anyone. Basically everyone had assumed that they shouldn’t try and talk to him about romance of any kind, so with the exception of having to step on eggshells in regards to Spencer’s romantic life, his relationships with his friends went relatively back to normal.

On rare occasion, he would go out with the team, but only if they were just going out to eat. Bars weren’t happening. He’d never go out with anyone alone though, because inevitably the conversation would turn to romance and those godforsaken words. If he was honest with himself, he hated the universe for the phenomenon now.

No. Solo outings didn’t happen anymore – which is why he surprised himself when he agreed to go grab a bite to eat with Alex. He wasn’t sure what it was about Blake. Maybe it was because he knew she cared, but she wouldn’t pry.

As they sat down at a hole in the wall Indian restaurant in a booth that barely held the two of them, the two found themselves slipping to a comfortable silence. “I’m here, you know,” Alex said, still looking at her menu. That was all she said; that’s what Spencer loved about her. “You wanna split some vegetable samosas?”

“Sure,” he said without missing a beat. The sentiment hung in the air; he knew what she meant by “I’m here.” It wasn’t a cry for attention, like she felt he was ignoring her, but a subtle and soft reminder that she was there and more than willing to listen if he wanted to get something off his chest. Though they’d only known each other for about two years, Blake knew him better than most, or at least in a different way.

The waitress came over the table and introduced herself as Kala, taking their orders for drinks, appetizer and their meals and quickly departed leaving them in silence once again. “Can I ask you something?” Spencer wondered. Not his words – he still needed to steer clear of those, but hers were another story.

He watched as a smirk ticked up the corners of her mouth, but that was all she allowed her face to show. “Of course. What is it?”

For a moment, he tried to formulate what he actually wanted to say. From the way she acted with him, to the locket she played with on cases where kids were involved (specifically boys) to the one time they were rooming together on a case and he’d heard her mutter ‘it’s okay Ethan,’ he’d assumed for months that she was a mother, but she never spoke of a son, so Spencer had guessed that Ethan, if that was his name, was no longer living – yet she and her husband James remained steadfastly dedicated to each other. “Were the words James spoke to you the first ones on your arm?”

“No,” she said, her voice in a far off place in the corner of her mind. “I was with someone else before James, but he died. His name was Michael.” She seemed to remember him fondly. “I loved him with my whole heart, but one morning I woke up to see that he had passed away during the night. Aneurysm. A ticking time bomb that took him away from me at the age of 25; he was way too young.” The fond smile turned somber for a moment as she mourned the loss of someone so young – someone she loved so much. “And before you ask, it was about two weeks later that a knew set of words showed up on my arm, and for a while…I hated them. Those words. Not only were they a cheesy pickup line, but they sprouted up out of nowhere two weeks after the love of my life died. I hated them, until I met him. Once I did, they took on a whole new feeling.”

While he wanted to know what that feeling was, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to confront it yet, so he asked the next obvious question. “What were his words to you?”

Blake snorted and pulled up her sleeve. On her arm, no lie, were the words, “I don’t have a library card, but do you mind if I check you out?”

“Noooooo,” he said, suppressing the urge to giggle uncontrollably.

Blake just shrugged. “Oh yea. Go ahead and laugh because it’s funny. But he said them so badly I found it endearing. My obvious reaction was ‘what?’ so that’s what’s written on his arm.” She went on to tell him how a few years after Michael’s death, around the anniversary actually, she found herself frequenting her local library for some solitude. Over and over again, she eyed a tall, built, slightly tanned man with a beautiful smile, but she hadn’t had the guts to go talk to him, until one day he approached her and said those words. “After I said what, James stumbled over his words so badly, I had to reassure him that he hadn’t just blown it and we went to get dinner.”

It seemed like only a few minutes later that Kala came back with their appetizer. While they ate, the conversation went toward linguistics, specifically endangered languages and the work being done to preserve them. Once the meals actually came they’d talked so much that their mouths were dry and they were both beyond hungry, so nothing was said until they were at least halfway done with their meals. “Can I ask you something else?” He didn’t even look up from his plate, because although the words had slipped out of his mouth, he wasn’t sure he was ready for the answer.

“You know you can ask me anything,” she replied, her eyes soft as she took another bite of her food.

Spencer placed his knife and fork at the sides of his plate, swallowing hard and composing himself for her answer. “When James said those words, you said your feelings changed. How?”

“Well,” she started, picking up her fork as if she was starting to get a little anxious and needed something to do with her hands, “As I said, I hate those words. They popped up and I was pissed that the universe wanted to put someone else in my path when the love of my life had just died.” She’d lived his exact circumstances, just years earlier. “I hated those words until the first time I saw James. There was something about him – the way he looked at me, the way he smiled at me, just the small things – they were the first romantic encounter I had after Michael and it made me start to wonder if the words belonged to him. I found myself simultaneously hoping they did and hoping they didn’t, and then when he said them, it was like a weight lifted off my shoulders…I don’t know how else to describe it, which as a linguist, really bugs me.”

Spencer smiled softly, wondering if he’d ever feel that way. He couldn’t imagine he would. More time had passed since Maeve’s death than they had spent together, but he still missed her every day. The sweet sound of her voice was still one of the last things he heard at night. “Look at the words when you’re ready, Spencer,” she finally said.

He wasn’t sure how she knew that he even had a second set of words, no less that he hadn’t looked at them yet, except that she was a brilliant profiler and linguist. “How will I know?”

“You just will.”

@adropintheocean1234567 @milkandcookies528 @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @gubl-oser @sammi9406 @rda1989 @stunudo @stay-wokke @brywrites @spencersolves @zombies-bunny @grayskiesandoceaneyes @the-slytherin-ice-queen @rosyreid @twelveyearoldchildprodigy @felisarunswithscissors @ultrarebelheart @lookingforgalifrey @live-love-be-unique @sammikeys23 @sassygeek77 @imawkwardhelpmeh @penelope-garxia @original-criminal-fanfics @sonhadoraativa @madamredwrites @tenderlysaltyalpaca @nevernot-broken @crazysurvival @un-kinder @just-a-localdreamer @geek13freak @pleasedftbaforever @chocok22 @sierra---king @whymesswperfection @camigt1999 @clockworkballerina @brooke0297 @unstoppableangel8

#spencer reid #maeve donovan #luke alvez #diana reid #dontshootmespence #the penrose triangle

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ranawaytothedas · 4 years

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I just had some random HC’s for Maeve, I thought I would share.

There are a few so I put them under the cut for neatness :D

+ Maeve doesn’t really remember much of Flemeth - This is really just something that makes sense to me given she had a fairly unpleasant early childhood and she ran away with her sister at a young age. Her memories of her mother a vague and almost all negative. Most of her opinions on Flemeth come from Morrigan’s accounts of their childhood. I see her blocking out a lot of her early memories because she was a deeply unhappy child. She saw facing the blight as a preteen as the better option than being left along with Flemeth. She also only refers to her as “My Mother” or “Flemeth” in much the way Morrigan does.

+She wanted to be a Grey Warden - this is just one of those random things when I was trying to give Maeve some more depth that I wrote down but it has stuck. I think it’s because she adores Alistair and looked up to the Warden as well. I also think that Alistair was probably the first to put an end to the idea of her joining the Wardens. Her desire to join the Wardens remains with her, even when she meets Blackwall she tells him, “Once upon a time, I wanted to be a Warden...”

+ Maeve has a soft spot for Templars - This is another thing that her fondness for Alistair influenced. Though she heard the stories about Kirkwall from Alistair himself, Maeve still believed that most Templars were noble and honorable like she views Alistair. He tries to explain to her that they are just people and have faults but Maeve keeps her head in the clouds about this for quite some time. Morrigan kept her isolated, even as a young adult so she has rarely seen the real horrors they had caused. It ends up being what she sees and what Cullen tells her about his past that breaks that romanticized view of Templars.

+ Maeve is half-Avvar - I had planned originally on having her be half-Tevinter but the more I played with the idea of her having some blood connection to the Avvar and their cool relationships with Spirits and Flemthal maybe being the Lady of the Skies (who knows... I went down a rabbit hole) plus the events of JoH, I thought... Avvar Maeve would be pretty awesome. Plus it explains her paleness... I do think she knows her father was an Avvar, it being a fact I think Flemeth would not let her forget, and when she gets the chance to go and meet the Avvar clans... she does her best to impress them and prove her worth. Which I think that Bull, in particular, would find very enduring about her.

+ Maeve’s best friend as a child, was Sandal - This is mostly just a silly one but the more I thought about the more I gave this weight. She was just a kid during the events of DAO and spent most of her time at camp, with Sandal and Bodan. Because of this, I see her bonding with the odd lad, it was almost like she understood him without needing words. Maeve would watch him as he made the runes and Sandel was fascinated when he watch Maeve practice her magic. One of the few things she carried with her from her childhood was a pair of enchantment runes that Sandal made for her before they parted ways. Before she leaves for the conclave she gives Keiren one and tells him to keep it safe because she will come back for it. When she sees Keiren again she asks him where is her rune... and Keiren pulls it from his pocket. Maeve also may know what “Not Enchantment” is, though she refuses to ever speak of it often saying I was sworn to secrecy. She often thinks about Sandal and often wishes that she could find her friend and bring him into the safety of the Inquisition, where they could really use his talents.

+ Maeve and Keiren are more like brother and sister than Aunt and nephew - This is something that Cullen and Varric both note when they see them together. Maeve seems to come alive around the young man. Cullen even ends up telling Varric he had never heard her laugh so much. They have a very sweet loving relationship and they both seem most at ease with each other. Maeve speaks very fondly of Keiren, even before they arrive at Skyhold. Never once does she mention missing Morrigan but she says she misses Keiren quite a bit. She also writes him letters from the time she arrives in Haven, she also sends him a gift for his birthday (Krem helps her make him a Mabari plushie) which happens shortly before they join her at Skyhold.

+ Solas is very cautious but ultimately fairly fond of Maeve - I think that Solas can see whatever tiny bit of Mythal may have been passed to her just by being Flemeth’s daughter. I like to HC that Maeve got the compassion and protective aspects of Mythal’s personality. So I think from the moment Solas was brought to her, he was actually concerned because he knew who she was and what a grave mistake he had made. He watches her closely. See how she handles herself, how her temperament is in stressful situations and where he morals lie. When Solas sees she is a kind person, who only wants what is fair for everyone. That she doesn’t discount the Elves or any race. He is impressed by her and takes quite a bit of time with her just speaking to her. Asking her many questions, some in the manner as the ones he asks Sera, trying to figure her out.

+ Maeve drinks from the Well of Sorrows as an act of defiance - Maeve went into the Temple with every intention of letting Morrigan drink from the Well. Cullen had made her promise him that she wouldn’t take that risk before she left. After having Morrigan act like a know-it-all and bossing her around during the search, she had reached her wits end by the time they get to the Well. While Solas, Dorian, Viv and Morrigan argue over who should actually be the one to drink from the Well. Maeve makes the decision for everyone. She pushes past Morrigan who actually tries to physically stop her. The women wrestle for a moment before Maeve shoves her sister to the ground declaring for once in her life she will be the one to make the choice. None of the other’s have a chance to reach her fast enough because she fade steps into the center. Dorian declares that “Well, Cullen is going to kill us all.... I hope you all like torture because I do not think he is going to let this go...”

+ Flemeth is not surprised it was Maeve who drank from the well - This is something that leads to a possible endgame type plot for Maeve. I think that Flemeth had every intention of Morrigan being the inheritor till this moment. She viewed Maeve drinking from the Well as being open to the idea of taking of Mythal one day. Maeve says no, that she would never want that. Which Flemeth claims is Morrigan’s words not her own and that perhaps when she sees what she can do with the power from the Well that it would make her consider what gifts she could gain by taking on Mythal...even using her being half-Avvar as justification. Also... Maeve basically gains the same Dragon form as Morrigan if she drank from the well..

#inkies:maeve #oc inquisitor HC #dai screenshots #sorta plotting #sorta not

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