#[ also considering tagging under 'my great grandson' ]

[madamhatter]

hokke and chiaki? ??

IF THEY HAD A KID MEME / acpt!

@aoikonpeito​ && this loser.

Name: Taisei Morisawa-HidakaGender: He/him ; Cis maleGeneral Appearance:

Towering over most of his peers since the age of 7, Taisei is the tallest at his family at a walloping 5′11′ and tends to try to shrink his size over anything he can do. He is usualy the one who would slide behind either his superhero dad or well-composed dad as he doesn’t want to be the main picture in anyone’s view. However, despite his usual body language reading to be that of a crustecean ready to retreat in its shell, he admittedly has a contagious smile that he gotten from Chiaki. It’s quite embarrassing for him that whenever he smiles, others tend to easily smile back and get easily smitten. He often seen bowing apologetically about this strange “quirk” about him.

In terms of looks, Chiaki’s hair is once again dominant in terms of its wild styling and its darker shade of brown. However, the night-light bright eyes of Hokuto are ever so present in the irises fo Taisei. His usual resting face can usually be interpretted as him in constant thinking or him being overall busy. It isn’t a negative or positive feature, but, people to overthink his intentions and view him as this philosophical type, when in reality, he’s just trying to figure out if he left his keys at home.

Much like his father, he also needs to wear glasses but he generally has terrible sight and needs them on at all cost. He actually had an accident when he was younger when didn’t know he needed glasses. He had a terrible slip and fall, permanently injuring his knee. It isn’t at bad, but, he really needs to be careful with his kneecaps, and so, he tends to lag behind and walk slower since he’s quite overcautious.

Personality:

Referenced in his general appearance, Taisei is a very reserved individual that really wants to avoid from implying or alluding to anything his heart doesn’t mean. Unfortunately, he was cursed with the charismastic aura of Chiaki Morisawa and the mature appearance of Hokuto Hidaka, meaning, he is quite used to winning over hearts easily without trying much. Now, Taisei recalls any idea of his personal appearance winning him favors, since, he finds it too artifical and void of any real emotions about who he is as a person. Because of this, Taisei is a person super honest and doesn’t like speculation to exist in a relationship between him and anyone else. He knows when it hold back his tongue, but, he may be a push-over that rubs his arm and agrees with someone if their personality is too strong. 

Now, he isn’t one to shy away from the problems of others, following in the footsteps of “defending justice” in his own way as he’s very empathetic. He would be the “father friend” that would listen to the problems of his friends and lay out suggestions for them and be the shoulder for them to cry on. However, he isn’t overemotional and wouldn’t usually cry along. He’s really trying to keep himself in place and be the rock for everyone because he really likes being relied on. Though, this does mean he can be a little bit coddling to anyone who does show on his radar of “they need my help!” Definitely not the touchy-feely type since he’ll be too unsure of how the other person will take it and he’ll just make air gestures to someone like patting their shoulder with like a solid two inches away.

Usually cutting himself sort of his accomplishments, Taisei does look down on himself and tries his hardest to make up for it. Both of his dads are quite confident, showing off in their own ways. Even Chiaki would be the guy to kick his son into the right direction, just like Midori (but this child doesn’t want to die, thankfully!) 

Besides that, Taisei tends to keep notice of how things are arranged and enjoys keeping things to how they usually are. He isn’t a big fan of change and can be overwhelmed by the thought, but, he hides it on the inside. This makes him quite tense and he usually goes to Hokuto and Chiaki about something bothering him after it’s been several weeks. He is slowly getting out of the shy shell he developed as a kid! 

Special Talents:

*Despite the injury on his knee, Taisei is a double-jointed contortionist in hiding. He hasn’t realize how peculiar his skill has been since he’ll bend fingers and twist his arms in strange ways while he’s alone or waiting around like at the doctor’s office. It probably freaked out his parents (or made them really happy) when they found out about this. He can do party tricks, but, he’s fine with copying his dad’s poses by pretending to be the orange Ranger.

*From his mind’s eye, he swears he can find a pattern in anything and would usually be sketching in his notebook. While he isn’t an extradionary artist, he actually does pretty damn good in editing software and excels in graphic designing. From the rough sketches he has and the photos he may find around the internet, he would careate graphics. He probably contributed to his parents’ old communities by making this extradionary graphics and hides behind anomity. – Basically, Taisei is probably your favorite gif maker and you don’t even know it!! 

Who they like better:

It’ll be a solid BOTH. Taisei might be indecisive on several matters but he will never say he prefers one parent over the other. It hurts him to dare think about what one exceeds in without considering the other there to support them. He is highly conscious of the family dynamic and wouldn’t have it any other way. Surprisingly, he isn’t quite embarrassed of the traditional and exuberant ways his parents contrast and has grown to embrace them. 

Who they take after more:

Taisei takes on Hokuto on the levels of maturity and carefulness that he shows among his classmates and relatives. He doesn’t really turn up as cold, however, as he’s quite the lukewarm person between the “Sun and Moon” pair his parents make. But, those self-dobuts are definitely a factor that Chiaki exists with because he already has issues with abandonment and really wants to be relied in. His own father sees this, but, who is he to break from his “can do it” mold to break his son’s illusion that he is the brightest sentai the world has ever seen? 

Personal Headcanon:

*The best way he boosts his confidence is humming old RYUSETAI songs like this one because he feels like he’ll carry on his father’s fire from his teenage years on with him. He doesn’t ever sing it out loud, but, Chiaki can tell a fucking mile away whenever his unit’s songs are being hummed and he bursts out into pose and introduction for his son. He probably made up one for his husband and son because he’s that extra parent and I love my stupid boy Chiaki Morisawa.  Actually, this moron really likes the songs that his parents made and even practices dancing to them like this BOP from Trickstar: x. He can’t dance all too fast since he fears he’ll mess up his other knee. 

*Small candies are always on his person, especially konpeito. This makes him look a lot older ut, he usually nibbles on it in order to keep himself relaxed. However, he thinks Chiaki has low blood sugar and usually slides them to his dad like a “please be careful.” He slides konpeito to his Hokuto whenever he can and has been doing it since he was a kid. He frequents a local candy store and has even befriended the shop owner! What a friendly boy! 

Face Claim: Yukio Okumura from Blue Exorcist 

[rhosyn-du]

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Six

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321​ Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue​ Tags:  Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Six

The irritation had been building all day, like sand rubbing under his skin, and it was especially irritating because Jace knew he didn’t have a good reason for it. Nothing was actually wrong, just a string of little frustrations that hadn’t let up all day, from the ancient coffee maker in their kitchen that didn’t start brewing when it was set to, meaning he had to go to his morning classes without any caffeine, to discovering he’d left his history textbook at home when his professor announced a surprise open-book quiz, right on through to missing his bus home and having to wait forty minutes for the next one, meaning he walked in the door with less than fifteen minutes before his friends were supposed to show up at his place for a group study session.

“Oh, hey,” Simon said when he walked through the door. “You’re home. I was starting to wonder if I got the day wrong and we weren’t having people over tonight, but then Bat texted asking if he should bring Spicy Ranch Doritos—which, obviously—so I figured you were probably just running late, which it turns out you were.”

“Excellent observational skills.” Jace tossed his bag onto the couch, not looking at Simon, and headed for the kitchen, intending to grab a beer from the fridge. Except when he opened it, there weren’t any left, and he realized he’d completely forgotten to go to the store the day before, because of course he had.

He slammed the refrigerator door shut, taking out his frustration on the appliance. It wasn’t as satisfying as he’d hoped.

“Everything okay?”

Jace spun around to find Simon in the doorway, watching him with an expression that held both wariness and concern.

“Everything’s peachy.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Simon said mildly. “You definitely use the word ‘peachy’ in casual conversation when things are going great.”

Jace took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Look, I’ve had a shitty day, all right? I’ve had a shitty day, and we’re out of beer, and I don’t need you trying to get me to talk out my feelings or whatever it is you’re trying to do right now.”

“Okay,” Simon agreed. “What do you need?”

Jace blinked. “What?”

“You don’t need to talk about your shitty day,” Simon said, moving into the kitchen to lean on the counter next to him. “So what do you need? Lily’s bringing beer, so that’s already taken care of.”

It should have been a simple question to answer, but Jace wasn’t used to people asking what he needed. Jace wasn’t used to considering what he needed.

“I don’t know.”

“What about a distraction?” Simon offered.

“A distraction,” Jace repeated, skeptical.

“Yeah.” Simon was grinning as he hooked his fingers through Jace’s belt loops and pulled their bodies together. “A distraction.”

Jace licked his lips, dropped his eyes to Simon’s mouth. “People are going to be here in eight minutes.” He didn’t have any objections to spending those eight minutes making out with Simon.

Simon’s grin widened. “Guess I’d better work fast, then.”

And then he dropped to his knees.

Jace sucked in a sharp breath as Simon popped the button on his jeans. “What are you doing?”

“I know you’ve had a shitty day,” Simon said, pulling down Jace’s fly, “but you can’t be that out of it.”

Jace let out a soft laugh and let himself slump back against the refrigerator door as Simon took out his rapidly-plumping cock and worked him to full hardness with his hands and mouth.

He was used to Simon teasing, giving him almost enough and then pulling back until he was desperate with it. This was the opposite, with every touch, every lick and swallow driving him relentlessly toward the edge, the frustration of his day bleeding away as Simon blew him with expert efficiency.

In almost no time at all, Jace was struggling to keep his legs under him as he felt his balls start to draw up, and he was so close—

And that was when Simon, the absolute fucker, pulled off his dick to remark with far more casualness than the situation called for, “Did you lock the door when you got home? Because people are going to be here, like, any second.”

Then his mouth was back on Jace’s dick, swallowing him down like it was his job, and Jace was cursing because no, he hadn’t locked the door and any second their friends could walk in and see—Jace, desperate and falling apart; Simon, swollen red lips wrapped around Jace’s cock taking him apart—and that was—it was—

There was a sharp knock on the door, and Jace came with a strangled shout.

Simon worked him through it, pulling back only when a second knock sounded at the door. “Be there in just a minute,” he called, sounding far too composed for someone who’d just given fucking fantastic blowjob.

Simon stood, pressing a quick kiss to Jace’s lips before saying, “Somehow, I just knew you’d have a bit of an exhibitionism kink,” and heading for the door, leaving Jace to fumble his pants closed and try look like he hadn’t just had his brain sucked out through his dick.

“You all right, man?” Bat greeted him as he entered the kitchen, arms loaded with far too many bags of Doritos for six people.

“Uh,” Jace said intelligently.

“Heard you shouting and I figured you must’ve hurt yourself. You were pretty loud.”

“I heard you down the hall,” Maureen added from the living room.

“Yeah, just stubbed my toe,” Jace lied, heading out to the living room. “Somebody left his stats book on the floor, and I tripped.”

Simon flashed him a shit-eating grin. Jace had a hard time not staring at his lips, still red and slightly puffy. “You should really be more careful.”

“Going to go help Maia bring stuff up from her car,” Maureen announced, holding up her phone. “Be right back.”

“You do know,” Jace told Simon in a low voice, “that I’m going to get payback for that, right?”

Simon’s smile grew smug. “Yeah. I do.”

After an hour of going over his notes and rehashing the earlier quiz with Lily, Jace was feeling much better about his history class, and even had some ideas for his end-of-term paper. They all took a break when the pizza they’d ordered arrived, and Jace found himself squeezed between Lily and Simon on the couch.

“So,” Lily said around a mouthful of pepperoni and cheese, “you two ready for your big wedding performance this weekend? Please say no, because I’ve still got fifty bucks riding on you not making it through this without panicking.”

“Your concern is so touching,” Jace said. “I really don’t know what I’d do without such supportive friends.”

“Based on what I saw the night we met, you’d spend a lot more time getting drinks thrown in your face by girls whose names you forgot,” Maia said.

“I did not forget her name,” Jace protested. “I hit on her girlfriend.”

“Not actually better,” Maureen observed.

“Okay, one, I had no idea they were dating, and two, not my fault she flirted back.”

“Just try not to get any drinks thrown in your face at cousin Rachel’s wedding,” Simon said, patting his knee condescendingly. And then left it there, like it was totally normal for him to touch Jace casually like this in front of their friends.

“Would it be cheating if I bribed Simon’s sister to take someone Jace hooked up with as her plus one?” Lily asked.

Jace thought she really didn’t need to. He was already panicking.

“Yes,” said Maia and Bat at the same time Simon said, “Oh god, please don’t.”

“You guys are no fun,” Lilly pouted, reaching for another slice of pizza.

“Speaking of Becky,” Maia said with affected casualness, “I was wondering if you could tell her—”

“Give me your phone,” Simon interrupted, holding out his hand. This had the effect of removing his hand from Jace’s knee, and Jace tried not to miss it.

“Sure,” Maia said slowly, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Why do you need my phone?”

Simon took the phone and pulled up Maia’s contacts. “So you just text my sister instead of asking me to be your messenger pigeon.” He passed the phone back. “Or call her. I’m not picky as long as I don’t have to be involved.”

Maia stared at the phone for a few seconds, then shrugged and put it back in her pocket with a sigh. “Yeah, okay. Fair. I guess I can, like, be an adult about this or something.”

“Good,” Simon said, his hand making its way back to Jace’s knee. No one else seemed to notice, and Jace tried not to react. “Please do it before Sunday so I don’t have to listen to Becky failing to be subtle about asking about you.”

Maia bit back a grin. “She asks about me?”

“Who wants to place bets on how long it takes Maia to actually call this girl?” Lily asked.

~~~

“Okay, you need to turn down the charm a little bit or I think Bubbe Helen is actually going to try to adopt you,” Simon said as Jace returned from his sixth dance with Simon’s grandmother. Jace didn’t think Simon needed to know that she’d used every one of those to grill him on his family, his plans for the future, his intentions toward her grandson.

“Just tell her you’re not into incest,” Jace told him, eliciting a gagging noise from Becky, the only one of Simon’s relatives still sitting at the table with them.

“Your boyfriend is gross,” Becky informed Simon, stabbing a spear of asparagus from her plate.

Jace grinned at her. “Simon wanted me to turn down the charm. I’m just trying to be accommodating.” He grabbed Simon’s hand and lifted it to his lips to kiss his knuckles. It was something they’d been doing all day, exchanging little gestures of affection like they couldn’t quite keep their hands off each other. Which was actually kind of true in Jace’s case.

It had started during the ceremony, Jace bumping Simon’s shoulder when he noticed him start to tear up during the vows. He’d meant it to be lightly teasing, but Simon had simply flashed him a watery smile and taken his hand, lacing their fingers together. Jace’s stomach had made an odd little flip and he’d squeezed Simon’s hand, and they just...hadn’t stopped touching each other. All through the rest of the ceremony and reception, it was a stream of constant little touches that made Jace wish for things he couldn’t have, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop touching either.

It didn’t help that Simon looked really good in a suit.

“That’s playing dirty,” Becky huffed. “I can’t hate you when you make my brother smile like that.”

“It’s all part of my devious plan.” He threw a sideways glance at Simon, hoping to catch the smile only to find him glaring daggers at his sister.

“Aww,” Becky cackled, “are you embarrassed? That’s adorable.”

“Embarrassed that you’re my sister? Yes.”

“Consider it payback for your presence throughout my entire adolescence.”

Jace leaned in. “Is there a story here? It sounds like there’s a story.”

“Dude, don’t encourage her.”

Becky leaned back in her chair, a predatory gleam in her eyes. “I have so many stories.”

“Oh, look.” Simon said, standing suddenly and pulling Jace along with him. “There’s Aunt Ruth. We should really go say hi.”

“I’ll still have stories to tell your boyfriend when you get back,” Becky called after them. “Jace, ask him about the llamas!”

Jace followed Simon, barely holding in his laughter as they ducked through the crowd of wedding guests, and then through an unobtrusive door that led out into an empty hallway.

“I’m so sorry about her,” Simon said, finally turning to face him and looking genuinely apologetic.

Jace shook his head. “Don’t be. I was having fun. I can see why Becky and Maia get along so well.”

“Because they’re both more than happy to tell embarrassing stories about me?” Simon joked.

“Can you blame them? It is pretty fun to watch you get all worked up.”

“You do seem to enjoy getting me worked up,” Simon agreed with a quirk of his eyebrows. “But my cousin’s wedding really isn’t the place for that.”

Jace glanced around the empty hallway. This was a bad idea. A really, really bad idea.

He turned back to Simon, a suggestive smile playing across his lips. “You sure about that?”

“Jace.” Simon’s voice was warning even as his eyes flicked to Jace’s lips and back up again.

Jace curled a hand around the back of Simon’s neck. “Because I’m not sure there’s any such thing as a bad place to get you worked up.”

“Literally everyone I’m related to is in the next room,” Simon protested. But he didn’t pull away.

“Fair point,” Jace conceded. He glanced around the hallway, then tried the nearest door. It opened into a room just large enough to not qualify as a closet. Jace raised a questioning eyebrow at Simon.

Simon looked dubiously at the stacks of office supplies that lined one wall, then back at Jace. “How are you so good at convincing me to make bad decisions?” Simon asked before grabbing him by the tie and dragging him into a kiss.

Jace grinned against his mouth as they stumbled into the room. “It’s my superpower. I got bitten by a radioactive advertising executive as a teenager.”

“Fuck,” Simon muttered, kicking the door closed behind them. “You can’t make Spider-Man references when I’m kissing you; that’s cheating.”

“Yeah?” Jace asked, pushing him against the wall that wasn’t occupied by reams of printer paper. “Does it get you hot when I talk nerdy to you?” He tugged at Simon’s shirt, pulling it free from his pants. “Or does everything I do get you hot?”

“Definitely not everything.” Simon nipped along his jaw. “Your ego, for example? Very unattractive.”

“Now you’re just making things up.” He slid a hand down to cup Simon through his pants, and Simon bucked into the touch. “My ego definitely gets you hot.”

“I know—fuck.” He rocked into Jace’s hand again. “I know some guys have trouble separating their egos from their dicks, but I never thought you’d be one of them.”

“Any association between my ego and my dick is well-deserved.” He tugged at Simon’s belt. “Don’t bother trying to argue. We both know it’d be a lie.”

“Yeah, that’s not actually how arguments wo—oh.” Simon cut off, eyes wide, as Jace dropped to his knees.

Jace smirked up at him. “I figure the best way to avoid staining your suit is if you come in my mouth. Unless you’ve got objections.”

“I have exactly zero objections to having your mouth on me.” Simon curled a hand around Jace’s jaw, drawing his thumb along Jace’s bottom lip. “Like, ever.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jace flicked his tongue out to catch the tip of Simon’s thumb and reached to finish unbuckling his belt.

He froze at the unmistakable sound of the door opening behind him.

Jace’s eyes were trained on Simon’s face, so he saw the emotions play out across it in real time: surprise, then panic, then a slowly dawning horror.

“Bubbe Helen!” Simon’s voice just barely managed to avoid being a squeak. “Hi! We were, uh, we were just—” He looked down at Jace helplessly.

The thing was, Jace had always been good in a crisis. No, that wasn’t exactly right. He’d always been calm in a crisis. Probably as a result of having endured so many starting at such a young age.

So, his gaze and voice were completely steady as he took Simon’s hand in both his own and asked, “Will you marry me?”

He heard a voice behind him that sounded suspiciously like Becky mutter, “Oh my god.”

Simon stared. “Wha—uh. Yes?” His eyes flickered up toward the doorway, then back to Jace. “Yes,” he said more firmly. “I will definitely marry you, which is of course why you’re on your knees right now, and…”

His voice trailed off as Jace pulled his ring—his father’s ring, the only ring he ever wore—off his own finger and slid it onto Simon’s. It was a little loose, but not enough to slide off.

Simon flexed his hand, the fluorescent light above glinting off the brushed platinum. And then he was pulling Jace to his feet and into a kiss that held a decidedly hysterical edge.

The kiss was short-lived, interrupted by a very deliberate throat clearing. Jace kept Simon’s hand clasped firmly in his as he turned around, the metal of the ring pressing into his skin a reminder of what he’d just done.

Bubbe Helen was watching him with a decidedly unimpressed look. Behind her, Becky had a hand clapped over her mouth, smothering what could have been either an overflow of emotion or laughter.

“Young man, did you just propose marriage to my grandson in a storage closet?”

Jace pasted on his best facsimile of a sheepish smile and prepared to lie his ass off.

~~~

“Look, I panicked, okay?”

Outside, rain poured down in heavy sheets, obscuring the passing scenery and dampening any other sounds. It made the inside of the van feel cut off from the rest of the world, like they were alone in their own tiny, bubble universe.

A muscle in Simon’s jaw twitched. “You said that already.” He kept his eyes on the road.

Jace’s eyes fell to the steering wheel, where the soft platinum of his father’s ring still rested on Simon’s finger. “You didn’t have to say yes.”

Simon didn’t respond to that, and Jace wished he could see his eyes, could find even the tiniest clue to what he was thinking. He’d barely said anything since they made their hasty exit from the reception. At least Becky and Bubbe Helen had agreed not to mention Simon’s supposed engagement to his mom until he could tell her himself.

The silence stretched between them as Jace stared out into the blurry downpour. The one saving grace to all of this was that at least no one else knew about it. Their friends would never let them hear the end of it if they found out. And Jace’s family, god, that would be a disaster. Izzy would probably try to plan the whole thing and they’d somehow end up actually married before Jace could even explain the situation to her.

“You know,” Simon said into the silence, “I hated you before I even met you.”

Jace didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know if there was anything to say to that. That was okay, though, because Simon kept talking.

“Clary’s been my best friend since we were kids. My mom likes to tell the story of how we met on the playground and spent the whole day trying to build a moat around the swing set so no one else could play on it, but I don’t actually remember it. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t friends with Clary. She’s just always been a part of my life. The best part, sometimes.”

He took a deep breath, threw a quick glance at Jace before continuing. “So, of course I fell in love with her.”

The words hit Jace like a punch to the gut, and he was very, very glad Simon’s eyes were back on the road and he couldn’t see the jumble of emotions that Jace was sure were written all over his face.

“We were in sixth grade when I realized,” Simon continued. “I think I’d probably been in love with her for a while, but it just sort of hit me one day that I was just completely and totally gone for her. And it only took me like ten minutes after that to figure out that she didn’t feel the same way about me, but that was okay. I mean, it wasn’t. That kind of thing never is when you’re twelve.” He let out a mirthless laugh. “Or when you’re an adult either, I guess. But it was as okay as it could be because I figured I just had to wait. Clary was the most important person in the world to me, and even though she didn’t love me like I loved her, I knew I was the most important person in her life, too, so I just figured.” He shrugged. “I figured that eventually she’d realize that we could be, you know, more.”

His voice got soft as he continued, “And then she met you.”

Jace sucked in a sharp breath. “Simon, I—”

“I’m glad she did,” Simon interrupted, and he sounded like he meant it. “Even though it sucked at the time. Every time she mentioned you, I just wanted to punch you in the face. Which is why I always made an excuse not to meet you, by the way. I thought if I did and you really were as perfect as she described you, I would actually hit you.”

“I did always wonder about the mysterious best friend who was never around,” Jace said around the odd lump in his throat he couldn’t seem to swallow down. “She talked about you all the time.”

“Yeah?” Simon sounded genuinely surprised. “That’s actually really good to hear. And it makes me even more glad she met you, because her falling for you, even spending so much time with you, it gave me time to get over her.”

The knot in Jace’s throat loosened an inch.

“By the time you guys broke up, I’d actually dated a couple of people who weren’t Clary, and even though I didn’t feel as strongly for any of them as I did for her, I realized that part of what makes our friendship so special is that it is friendship. And I think we might have really fucked that up if we tried to be anything else, so I’m glad we never did, because my friendship with Clary is still one of the best things in my life, and I’m pretty sure it always will be.”

“Is that what you wrote Random Afternoon about? About you and Clary?” It wasn’t what Jace meant to say at all, but he opened his mouth and the words just came tumbling out.

Simon’s let out a soft huff of laughter. “No.” He shook his head. “It’s, uh. It’s not about Clary.”

Jace didn’t understand what was so funny, but he wasn’t going to ask. Just like he wasn’t going to ask who the song was about. Wasn’t going to think about why he cared so much.

“She was my first love, too,” he said instead.

Simon nodded slowly, digesting this information. “I wondered. I mean, when Clary used to talk about you, it sure sounded like you loved her, but once I found out you were, you know, you, I wasn’t so sure anymore.” He was fiddling with the ring, now, twisting it slowly around his finger with his thumb. Jace wondered if he knew he was doing it. “I didn’t think you were a relationship kind of guy.”

“I’m not.” That wasn’t what anyone wanted from him. Even Clary, who really had loved him once upon a time, hadn’t wanted him to stay. And even if someone did want that from him, he was pretty sure now that he wouldn’t know how to give it to them.

“And there hasn’t been anyone since Clary who’s made you reconsider?” Simon’s hands were still on the steering wheel now, his face impassive in the flickering light of passing cars.

Jace thought back to that night weeks ago, when Simon told him that maybe they wouldn’t be a mistake, and just for a second he’d thought—he’d hoped—but of course that wasn’t what Simon had meant.

“No.”

“Of course not. Stupid question.” Simon flashed him a smile, but there was a worried crease between his brows.

The last thing Jace wanted from him was pity, especially over this. “So, tell me about the llamas,” he said, desperate to change the subject.

Simon winced. “Can we just pretend Becky never mentioned llamas?”

“Nope.” Jace grinned. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll get Maia to ask Becky. I’m sure your sister would be happy to share.”

“You’re seriously the worst,” Simon said before launching into a long, involved story about his and Clary’s third grade trip to a llama farm and how Becky had thought it was hilarious to tell them that llamas were venomous.

“So, there I was, just covered in llama spit,” Simon finished as he unlocked their apartment door, “crying my eyes out because I thought was going to die, with Clary shouting at the poor farmhand that her dad was cop and he was going to go to jail for murder. And of course Becky didn’t even get in trouble or apologize. She just started getting me llama-themed birthday gifts.”

“Just so we’re absolutely clear,” Jace snickered, following him inside, “I’m laughing at you, not with you.”

“Which is one of many reasons I should have known better than to let you meet my sister. Speaking of which,” he pulled Jace’s ring off his finger and held it out, “I wouldn’t want to forget to give this back.”

Jace looked at the ring, then back up at Simon, swallowing hard. “You should keep it. Until we break up.” Something flashed in Simon’s eyes, and Jace hurried to correct himself. “Until we tell our families we broke up, I mean. In case you need to, I don’t know, sell the story.”

“Jace, I know what this ring means to you. I can’t just—”

“You can.” He reached out and closed Simon’s fingers over the ring, holding them there. “I trust you to keep it safe.”

Simon stared at him for a long moment, eyes searching. “Okay,” he agreed. “Until we break up.”

Something in Jace’s chest loosened, and he stepped back, letting Simon’s hand drop from his. “Cool. I’m gonna heat up some pizza rolls. You want me to make enough for you?”

“Sure,” Simon said. “Yeah, pizza rolls sound great. Cheeseburger flavor, not triple cheese, though.”

“Obviously,” Jace said, heading to the kitchen. He didn’t think about the ring, or how naked his hand felt without it. Or why it mattered so much to him that Simon agreed to keep it, if only for a little while.

[40sbarnes]

Medici: Spymasters of Florence

Chapter 11: Business Trip

hey guys!! Thanks so so much for the patience with this chapter. I’m back to regular posting now so new chapter on Sunday! Hope you all enjoy this one until then <3

Pairings; Lorenzo x reader, (platonic¿) francesco x reader

tag list!!; @brynthebulldozer @mythicalamphitrite @nana035 @valravnsraven @hannahhistorian92 @not-thatweird @isaac-lahey-is-bae @angrygardendeer (comment to be added!)

The sun had long been risen before you woke the next day. Your dreams had become less and less creative and were just recurring, altering worries of the situation you'd found yourself in. You stopped paying attention to them, letting them slip from your thoughts the moment you lifted your head from your pillow.

Your stomach grumbled as you got dressed, you were trying your best to save your gold, you weren't quite as set on leaving after your talk with Lorenzo but it still seemed the most favourable option, as well as the most expensive. You couldn't afford to silence your stomach, but you were hungry, and there was always a stall owner who wasn't paying enough attention. You slid your cloak over your shoulders, before heading to the door to refine your particular skill set.

Your plans of thefts were quickly changed at the sound of a knock on your door. Carefully, you opened the door, seeing a basket sitting on your doorstep. Suspicious, you nudged it with your foot, the contents were wrapped in cloth. You glanced around, seeing no trace of whoever left it there. Your curiosity got the best of you, and you scooped it up, bringing it into your home before closing your door once again. You set it down on the table, picking up the first item, sliding the loose cloth around it off. A loaf of bread. Who sent this? God himself? The fresh scent wafted through the air of your dull room. You picked off a piece and hungrily scoffed it down, easing your stomach slightly. It was delicious, you'd never quite had the likes of it before. You took a few more nibbles before you moved on to the rest of the basket.

A small jar of preserve, presumably to accompany the bread you'd already ripped into. You moved it aside, lifting up the last of the contents, which was also the largest. The item was soft, the cloth delicately wrapped around it tied with a thin string to keep it in place. You unravelled it quickly, shedding the cloth to reveal what it was hiding. You chuckled, realising who the basket had been from. You held the soft linen sheets up to your cheek, deciding Lorenzo wasn't all that bad after all.

A small slip fell out of the sheets onto the floor. You left them back into the basket to retrieve the note. 'We need to talk immediately.'

You furrowed your brows, you had agreed to talk already, why the sudden rush? You didn't have time to question it apparently, and instead headed back towards your door, doing what you were paid to do.

—-

Lorenzo's window was cracked already, you'd like to imagine especially for you. You slid in with ease, feeling much stronger after your rest.

"Y/n," he greeted you, standing up from his chair.

"Is everything alright?" You questioned, worried by the urgency of the note.

"For now," he nodded, although his words didn't bring you any comfort, "Pazzi has gained Soderini’s favour, I don't know how, but..." You didn't speak, instead waited for him to continue. "I have gained Orsini's, thanks to your doing, Jacopo can send all the messengers he wishes now and it will not amount to anything, but I had been counting on Soderini to push us forward. I don't know what Pazzi has on him, but he isn't being swayed, so I'm going to try and convince Vitelli."

"Vitelli? I assumed he was a given Pazzi vote," you didn't know much on the matter but from hearing Pazzi speak, at least, it had always appeared that way.

"Nothing is a given in this world, Bellondini. I'm sure Jacopo believes that you are a given loyal spy," Lorenzo's smirk seemed more of a mockery than anything else. It soon slipped from his cheeks as he focused back on the business at hand. "I have to at least try and gain Vitelli’s favour. Or else I'm practically throwing in the towel now."

"That is fair," your eyes surveyed Lorenzo's, "so why did you call on me?"

"Well, I have to leave as soon as I can, he is away in Venice for his first grandsons birth," he explained, "and I thought it best to notice you of my sudden departure," you nodded, still not quite understanding why this couldn't of been said in the note. "And also, I was wondering if you'd consider accompanying me?" You were taken aback by his words, and your face showed it.

"It won't be an easy task to sway Vitelli’s vote, and I imagine someone of your expertise will be of great assistance. You might overhear some information that could help him change his mind," he continued his proposal.

"Lorenzo..." you began, not entirely sure how you felt about the offer.

"I understand if you still need rest, and I am not asking this as a favour, I will pay you handsomely for the trip," you could do with the extra coin... "Also, most of it would be resting in itself, enjoying the finer luxuries of this life for a few days. It might even do you some good," he smiled, you didn't mimic him.

"A few days? Lorenzo this is asking a lot more than a simple lift or eavesdrop," you shook your head, almost repulsed at the thought of leaving town with him.

"I'm well aware. I'm also aware that you have already done far more for me than needed, but this could be the tipping point for the election." The passion was not hidden from his voice.

"I can't just up and leave at the drop of a hat, what about Pazzi? And my life doesn't simply revolve around you t-" you couldn't even explain why you were angry, you simply were.

"I've never known you to complicate saying no, y/n," Lorenzo sighed, returning to a colder exterior as he cut you off. "I don't need you, just thought it might be nice for you to have a little time away," he huffed.

"You don't-" you didn't bother finishing your sentence, although Lorenzo stood there waiting. "Well thank you. But I'm perfectly fine," you were offended at the insinuation of his words, and how true they were.

"Whatever you say," his eyes disagreed with his mouth, clearly just going for your nerves, "I have business to attend to now, but I will leaving shortly after. The offer still stands."

You shook your head, not falling for it. "Enjoy your trip, Lorenzo," and you left before he could annoy you any further. 

—-

The Pazzi palazzo seemed ever more daunting every time you went, your anxiety spiking down your spine at the looming cloud of being found out. When Francesco's smooth voice floated throughout the marble walls you wondered if you deserved what was bound to come. He had been your only confidant all these years, and you had turned around and betrayed him.

Jacopo's booming yells soon echoed around you, and you were reminded why the guilt of being a double spy had failed to fully consume you. His cold cries at his own blood were enough to assure you that all of this hadn't been in vain, that a Florence under his rule was not one you would have enjoyed seeing, that you would probably have had to flee your home anyways. You didn't need to have your keen senses to recognise his shouts were coming from his office, and that he was upset over the missing spy. Wonder where he could have gone?

Jacopo's yelling grew louder and louder until a piercing roar finished his rant. "Get out of my sight!" The silence that followed felt much louder than any noise Jacopo could create.

After a beat dropped, footsteps echoed across the tiles. A stressed Francesco appeared in your line of sight, his eyes focused on his own feet. He paused for a moment when he noticed you were there, your eyes meeting for a moment. You couldn't help but shoot him a smile, trying to offer any comfort you could. He didn't offer you the same comfort, his eyes fluttered closed, blinking at they shifted back to their original position, as their owner left you standing alone. You had seen Francesco upset many a time, never had he blatantly ignored you in such a way. You weren't given much time to dwell on it, as Jacopo appeared in the doorway of his office, calling you in.

You felt like a lamb being sent for slaughter, that someway, somehow he'd know what you had done. You didn't let your worries show.

"The other night I sent a man to Orsini's residence with a message. He has yet to return," Pazzi's anger had all but faded as he spoke to you calmly, as if he was informing you of his dinner last night. You nodded for him to continue. "As you are aware, the vote is growing closer. And young Medici seems to be more capable than first imagined. Orsini's vote would mean a great deal to me. It is vital he receives the message." You continued your silence as Jacopo leaned to the side to open the top drawer of his desk, sliding out a piece of parchment, too familiar for your liking.

He stretched his arm out over the desk, allowing you to take the note from in between his forefingers. You keep your face poised as your heart rate sped up, remembering the lengths you took to procure the message the first time around. You move to stand up, ready to complete the task, but Jacopo raises a finger to stop you. "Be very, very, careful, Bellondini. This must reach Orsini today. Do not let anyone see you, including the wretched man himself." 

"Yes, Messer," you bow your head, deciding now was not a time more many words.

"Then go," he waved his hand to the door, "return the minute it is done. You shall receive your payment then." 

You nodded one last time before finally exiting the Pazzi home, message tucked safely away under your cloak. You couldn't help but be reminded that this was the same journey that poor man had taken not days before. It was daytime now of course, the sun and the citizens roaming the streets allowing you some peace of mind, an assumption of your own safety. Although you couldn't stop yourself from glancing over your shoulder to the rooftops, as if to see yourself staring back at you, waiting to strike. You tried to push your mind from the subject but it wasn't as simple a task as you'd hoped. The parallels between you and your victim were painstakingly obvious, and your guilt was quickly returning. If someone were to lift the note from you now surely you'd fight back, fear of Pazzi was not something to undermine. You couldn't truly blame the man, but it would be much easier if you could.

Amidst all your worrying, you reached the Orsini home. It had seemed to have made your journey quicker, or perhaps it was just a result of taking the path already. You forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, hood up as you slipped around the walls until you spotted the servant entrance, eyeing out your target. A young man caught your interest, and you neared him, head hung low so your face was covered. "Take this to Orsini. He'll want to see it." You grumbled as you spoke, in an attempt to hide your voice, pushing the message into his hands.

"B-but, I-" you almost felt pitiful, his voice cracking as he took in his situation.

"No buts," you moved your cloak aside slightly, allowing your blade to catch a glint from the sun, "move along. Now." It felt strange, you were more than used to threatening people, but now knowing your threats held such a weight, it was different. You almost enjoyed the power, watching as the servant scurried off with the note, but you caught yourself. 

Before heading back to the Pazzi's you continued your way around the building, glancing around to ensure no one was watching as you searched for the right room. Eventually, your eyes landed on Orsini himself, sitting on his comically large chair, the note already having reached him. It sat in his hand, his eyes burning a hole through the parchment as they scanned the words scrawled across it. Once he had finished he scoffed, tossing it into the fire behind him. Lorenzo had certainly taken care of that, so. Orsini dismissed the servant who was knelt at his feet, and you took it as your sign to leave as well. 

You were smug, what you had done had actually meant something, it wasn't all in vain, it had helped Lorenzo, which you were realizing wasn't a thing as terrible as you had previously believed. But as you retraced your steps to the Pazzi's, you remembered running down the same street before, from your attacker. You past the alleyway you took in hopes of a shortcut, just to be cut off, almost dying in the process. Your breaths became more staggered as you tried to focus on something, anything else. Your mind automatically wandered to Lorenzo, and his offer. Maybe a few days away from all this wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. It would at the very least provide you with days of food, meaning you would be well fed and saving your own coin. You decided you would at least try, considering he may have already left. 

Picking up your pace, you arrived back at the Pazzi's, the doorman having your pouch of coins ready, bidding you farewell before he left to inform Jacopo of your success. You were grateful for any instance in which you didn't have to deal with the man in charge yourself. You secured your payment, before rushing off back to the Medici home, hoping against the odds that Lorenzo's business had kept him just as long as yours had. 

The Medici walls were soon in your sight, causing you to move even faster. You maneuvered your way around to Lorenzo's window, it was practically second nature at this point, to see the window still cracked open an inch. You slipped through after widening it, to an empty room. You let out a breath, you had gotten your hopes up, of course he'd left already. 

Disappointed, you glanced around, not knowing quite what to do with yourself, until you heard bustling coming from outside his door. You moved closer, listening as well as you could through the thick wood. It was all muffles, but you recognised that tone in an instant. Lorenzo hadn't left yet. You cracked open his door ever so slightly to be able to hear him saying his farewells to Lucrezia, bidding her son a safe journey. 

You closed the door, swiftly moving across his room to slide back out his window, ignoring your quickened breaths. You gently fell to the ground, before making your way around to the entrance, seeing no one around. Lorenzo emerged after a moment, saddled on a horse. He lifted the reigns, ready to depart, until you stepped forward so he could see you. 

"Does the offer still stand?" the question fell from your lips, which were curled into a grin.

Lorenzo let out a light laugh, smiling back at you, before he outstretched his hand to help you up. "Come on, then.”

[azvolrien]

An Incomplete Timeline of Stranatir

OK, despite the tag this is more of a reference document than a story; I mentioned once that I have a timeline drawn up to help keep when all my stories happen straight in my head. I update it periodically when I have new stuff to add, but this is what I have sorted out so far.

AI = ‘Anno imperii’, ‘in the Year of the Empire’ (I hope). Previous years are ‘BE’, ‘Before the Empire’, as ‘ante imperium’ would lead to confusion.

AI   1          Raan the Conqueror, chieftain of the Bear Tribe of Raan’s Fort (‘Ki-Raan’), finishes his campaign to unite the scattered Kargvallen (the ‘Jagged Lands’, an old name for the Kiraani Hills) tribes into a single nation; traditionally considered the founding of the Kiraani Empire. Things kind of escalate from there.

     1409    Schism of the Balaurin; the expansionist ‘Sky Kings’ led by Voice of the Mountain travel from the Dragon’s Teeth to the Eastern Highlands and enslave the orcs. I guess they thought it would be easier than trying to conquer the Kiraani, as the orcs had yet to invent ballistae.  

     1420    Approximate beginning of the Raiding Period – an era in Sea Loch history characterised by warfare and raiding between the people of the different lochs, each under the leadership of a different local monarch. Vikings, basically. Kiraan glances in their direction and decides to let things settle down over there before attempting anything.

     1740    Traditionally considered the end of the Raiding Period, with the unification of the Sea Lochs under High King Fergus. Local monarchs keep their titles but swear fealty to the High King.

     2109    The Sea Loch Country and the Hawk Steppes are annexed into the Kiraani Empire; the Emperor adds ‘High King’ and ‘Great Khan’ to his list of titles. The nation of Stormhaven is founded when a slave ship runs aground on the coast and Queen Eleri the First (just Eleri at that point) masterminds the escape. On the other side of the continent, Ikara the Black leads the orcs (who have now invented ballistae, and have also worked out a few useful things about ‘blast pulp’) in the Last Revolt against the Sky Kings; Voice of the Mountain and all other dragons in the Eastern Highlands (save one) are slain. Some of the Sky Kings successfully escape the mountains and join communities in the lowlands to the west, but most are killed with the dragons.

     2214    The Devourer appears at Eyrie Spire and begins consuming magic for miles around. To date no one is completely sure what it really was (not even me!). Almost all dragons die in the event, leaving only a handful of survivors and unhatched eggs; Balaurin civilisation collapses without them. Most human survivors quietly integrate into the Mammoth People on the ice fields to the north or Kiraan south of the mountains and a few remain in the mountains with most of the surviving  dragons, but some become more belligerent. The Balaurin mage Morath (known to Stormhaven as the Harbinger) and her dragon Dark Shadow over the Frozen Land (‘Shadow’) come to Stormhaven in warning and are slain in battle against an invading Balaurin faction.

     2696    Crown Prince Zarannon of Kiraan (‘Zar’, and believe it or not that was not an intentional pun on ‘Tsar’) is born to Emperor Kaial III and Imperial Consort Aysel Darehyin Yaigani.

     2702    Lorna, an eighteen-year-old girl of the Sea People, becomes disillusioned with the violent culture of her remote island birthplace and steals a boat to defect to the mainland. She is caught in a storm on the way and washes up on a beach in the Sea Loch Country, where she is taken in by Bruide MacDovran, his wife Morag, and their son Euan (also eighteen). Although she’s unofficially adopted into the family, her relationship with Euan is very much not that of brother and sister.  

     2710    26th Voynithi/March – Roan is born to Lorna and Euan, and orphaned by raiders a couple of months later; she is then raised by her widowed grandfather Bruide, who cannot bear to keep using NicEuan as her patronymic and changes it to NicBruide, the name she will bear for the rest of her life.

     2711    15th of Sirakithi/January – Fayn reyth Aren is born. The village priest views her albinism as a terrible omen and insists that they leave her in the forest to die. Her parents Aren and Kayun can’t completely overrule him, but manage to talk him down to allowing her to live just outside the village boundaries in the care of her eldest sister Una. Una does a pretty good job, all things considered, and is probably the biggest reason Fayn had both the skills to survive alone and the ability to eventually return to civilisation.  

                 8th of Rivedi/July – Asta zeDamar is born. There’s not really anything more interesting to say about that part of her life; she has a fairly happy and nondescript middle-class upbringing up until the point everything goes horribly wrong for her.

                 16th of Messis/September – Wygar Smith is born, and left at a Stormhaven orphanage by his biological parents Wyatt and Irwen (no surname) two days later. Nicholas and Mari Smith adopt him after a month in the orphanage; he doesn’t remember it, but once he’s financially capable of it he makes regular donations to the orphanage.

     2716    Nirali is born. (cradle name: ‘Blue Eyes’) Unlike Fayn’s experience, her albinism is noted as unusual and her parents are advised to be careful with sun exposure, but it otherwise has no effect on her upbringing. Her eccentricities are entirely her own.

     2717    Emperor Kaial orders the genocide of the Falkari people out of paranoia; only Fayn survives. Zar, horrified, cuts all ties to his father not strictly related to his duties as Crown Prince and immediately starts planning what he’ll do to try and atone for it once he takes the throne. Stormhaven declares war shortly after the massacre.

     2719    The Darkwald War ends with the signing of Treaty of Harbinger Pass; nobody can really be said to have conclusively won or lost but hostilities between Stormhaven and the Empire are officially over. Unofficially, Stormhaven is not totally convinced, so the Harbinger Gate is constructed to block the pass. The Darkwald as far south as the Stone River is designated an official buffer zone between Stormhaven and the Empire. People can still pass through from one to the other but the only activity allowed within the zone is services for travellers on the Great Darkwald Road, such as roadside campsites and the village of Halfway.

     2723    Wygar begins his apprenticeship at the Stormhaven College of Sorcery alongside Calburn, Rhona and the rest of their yearmates.

     2726    Karash is born. (cradle name: ‘Honey’)

     2731    Roan graduates from the University of Duncraig following the death of her grandfather earlier in the year and begins working in a bank.

     2732    Asta graduates from the Imperial University of Kiraan. Her parents are killed in an accident; she sells herself into slavery to cover their considerable debts (in Nivalis/December) and is purchased by Lady Fiona MacArra as a secretary. Fiona initially offers her freedom but Asta declines on the grounds that she would just be out on the street. Instead she agrees to stay with Fiona for five years or until Fiona’s death, whichever comes soonest. Roan decides she hates working in a bank, resigns, and moves to Dun Ardech to live, as Asta put it, as a semi-feral sea witch. Nirali begins training as a Memory-Singer.

     2736    Voynithi: Wygar and his yearmates leave the College for the traditional journeying year.

     2737    Events of The Last Shapeshifter and most of Water Horses.

                 Voynithi: Wygar returns from his journeying year and meets Fayn in the Darkwald, where she’s been living a mostly feral existence since the Falkari genocide. She accompanies him back to Stormhaven and adjusts surprisingly well.

                 Gracilis/November: Wygar and Fayn marry. They acknowledge that this is pretty soon but it works for them. Death of Lady Fiona MacArra.

                 Nivalis: Asta’s manumission in Fiona’s will is overruled and her ownership passes to Lord Darius ‘Daro’ MacArra, Fiona’s grandson, who has had his eye on her since she first came to Duncraig. Asta escapes from Castle MacArra (not unscathed) and flees to Dun Ardech, where she meets Roan.

     2738    Sirakithi: Daro kidnaps Asta from Dun Ardech with the help of his guards and a hired crew; Roan kills him and rescues her. Asta travels to Stormhaven aboard the merchant ship Curlew at Roan’s insistence and finds work in the College’s admin office.

                 Nivalis: Wygar and Fayn travel to the Northern Forest at Zar’s request to investigate a spate of mysterious disappearances there. Events of The Northern Forest.

     2739    Nivalis: Death (from old age) of Emperor Kaial; Zar ascends the Imperial throne to become Emperor Zarannon IV, with his coronation held on the winter solstice. Wygar and Fayn attend with the Stormhaven delegation. Events of To Kiraan. Aysel leaves the Imperial City and returns home to the Hawk Steppes.

     2740    Sirakithi: Under Zar’s new Protection of Slaves Act, Clan MacArra are arrested and imprisoned for their horrific abuse of their slaves. Now that it’s safe for her to do so, Asta returns to Dun Ardech to live with Roan. Specifically on the 7th.

                 12th of Rivedi: Una Falkari Smith is born. Calburn and Rhona travel to the Hawk Steppes and travel with a band of Yaigan nomads for a while. Events of The Hawk Steppes.

                 Gracilis: Wygar and Fayn travel to the Darkwald for Una’s naming ceremony.

     2742    Ikara is born. (Cradle name: ‘Little Red’) Karash begins training as a Memory-Singer.

     2744    Torsani/June: Karash and Ikara are orphaned in the Fever Summer. Karash takes on parental duties for his infant half-sister; juggling his training with raising her is difficult, but he manages.

                 Nivalis: Asta and Roan marry.

     2746    Wygar reconnects with his biological family, somewhat by accident. He never really comes to think of Wyatt and Irwen as his parents, but he remains on cordial terms with them and Una does consider them her grandparents.

     2748    Wygar, Calburn and Rhona go missing on the far western continent and are presumed dead. Events of Centaurs of Varakai.

     2749    Wygar, Calburn and Rhona make it home to Stormhaven, accompanied by the Red Sun centaur herd. The Red Suns go to live on the Hawk Steppes, where the landscape suits them a bit better. The Steppe tribes are surprised but generally roll with it.

     2750    Events of The Lady of Kaltara. Wygar, Fayn and Una go on holiday to Stonehead. Fayn is kidnapped by Mara Kovar, the Lady of Kaltara, and Wygar and Una travel to rescue her.

     2752    Una begins her own apprenticeship at the College.

     2754    Nivalis: Roan goes missing fishing in a winter storm. Riabhach rescues her from the water and gets her safely to the island of Starwatch. Una and some other apprentices visit the Order of Night on the island and are caught up in a raid by a band of Sea People led by the warrior Svanna, the daughter of Lorna’s sister and so Roan’s first cousin unbeknownst to either of them. Events of The Island of Stars.

     2756    High Master Idris Carwel retires; Wygar is promoted to take his place as head of the School of Combat. Nobody is really surprised by this.

     2758    Ikara begins training as an Initiate Windkindred.  

     2764    Ikara bonds with the rukh Tsheer and ascends to full Windsister.

     2765    Una leaves on her journeying year. She meets Bright Star in the High Cold Dark (‘Star’) in the Dragon’s Teeth, accidentally forms a permanent blood-bond with the young dragon, and is adopted by the surviving Balaurin. The Sea People invade Stormhaven in force under King Torann, but are defeated (read: their fleet is practically obliterated) by the Balaurin dragons.

     2767    Events of Anchored Tempest. The Balaurin relocate from Journey’s End to Ornfell, close enough to the Sea Loch Country for much easier trade. Una and Star travel to the Eastern Highlands and encounter the orcs. Halted Flow of the River of Time (‘River’), the last survivor of the Sky Kings’ faction, is discovered guarding a cache of five hundred viable dragon eggs held in stasis. River is killed; the Balaurin transport the eggs to Ornfell for incubation.

     2768    Interim between Anchored Tempest and its epilogue. Karash, Ikara and Nirali accompany Una on her journey back across the continent from the Eastern Highlands to Stormhaven, acting as something between explorers and unofficial ambassadors between the orcs and the wider world. They have a few hurdles along the way, but overall it goes well. I haven’t decided anything more specific yet.

[hezuart]

hello there!!! I was looking through some of your tags and I found that you have an ao3 account (I think) with some interesting fics. could you pass over a link cuz it isn't on your faq page

I peak out from my rocky cave to push dozens of scrappy old papers out in the open 

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zuhelle/works

I once more recede into the darkness out of embarrassment 

~~~ 

List of incomplete fics I have yet to post: 

Miraculous Ladybug Fic: “Arranged”  involving humanized!Kwami where the Miraculous Jewelry isn’t just a power keeper, but also an arranged marriage sort of deal. Main pairings will be PlaggxAdrien and TikixMarinette. (At odds with myself if AdrienxMarinette will be part of those pairings...) (70% complete, current word count: 47,698 aka 117 pages) 

Teen Titans Fic: “The Stolen Apprentice”. Takes place during Robin’s “apprenticeship” to Slade. A certain someone finds out that his great-grandson has been enslaved, and he just can’t have his future heir working under someone else. Robin is stolen from Slade by the Court of Owls. Who the hell are these people.... just exactly who is Robin...? And will Slade be able to choke down his pride and enlist the help of a certain Batman to save what’s been lost? (No Pairings, Angst, Hurt/comfort, family) 

Code Geass Fic: “Lelouch of the Revise”. Lelouch Vi Britannia has been slain. But Lelouch should have known... killing a Code bearer wouldn’t be that easy. Lelouch’s mind is shoved back to earth, into the body of a young high school boy, about to be shot in Shinjuku ghetto. His body, from three years ago. Lelouch has been given a second chance. A chance to change everything. Will he succeed, or will his revisions of the past only bring a darker future? (And what new discoveries will he unlock along the way?) 

Harry Potter Fic: “The Cursed Children”. Rewrite of the badly received Harry Potter and the Cursed Child playwright, following the lives of Albus Severus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, Delphini ‘Diggory’, and a young muggle-born transfer student named Raweni Kawari from MahouTokoro School of WitchCraft and Wizardry. Things are not as they seem. Dark times await them, and they chase after this darkness without thinking about the consequences. (AlbusXScorpius DelphinixRaweni) (Although there is an OC in here, consider her as like a Ginny to the main trio of Harry Potter. She’s involved, but it focuses more on the trio in the series) (At first it will be Cursed Child canon-compliant, but then I’m gonna go nuts when the plot starts to pick up. I’m excited. I don’t wanna reveal too much, hehe) (Still working out the kinks in this one. Needs a lot of revision work.) 

ROTG Fic: No name as of yet. Not yet started. Genderbend Centerswap AU. One day, Jack woke up, and everything was wrong. He and the Guardians are transported to a world opposite of them. Not only are the “other Guardians” the opposite gender, but their beliefs and centers are changed as well. And not for the better. The “Guardians” of this world are evil and bring about terror amongst children. A certain Boogiewoman however does the opposite. Perhaps they’ll need to set aside their assumptions and enlist her help to get back home... and maybe stop the cruelty emanating from her world in the process. And they’ll need to start with the Moon’s ultimate weapon: Jacquelyn Frost.  (Focus is Fem!Pitch and Fem!Jack. Their centers have been changed to courage and mundanity. Angst fic, dark themes.) 

ROTG Fic: No name as of yet, not started. ROTG Apocalypse AU. Similar to the one listed above, but the Four Guardians are now the Four Horsemen. To protect the world from falling into Chaos, a lone angel, Jack Frost (Unsure whether to be female or male yet in this au) Encased the Four Horsemen in ice for all eternity to prevent this catastrophic event. Jack cannot allow a slip-up, lest the world end........ but a certain tall, black-haired being enraptures the frost spirit’s heart.... slowly but surely warming it. But unbeknownst to her(?), thawing away her(?) imprisoning frost in the process. (PitchxJack, angst, romance? Potential betrayal fic, dark themes.) 

BLEACH Fic: No name as of yet. Ichigo uses Mugetsu against Yhwach, but it destroys the boundaries of space-time, sending White Zangetsu and Black Tensa into the past..... But Ichigo Kurosaki is nowhere to be found. What have they changed? What disasters have they brought into motion far too early? Can they change their ending to be happily ever after, or will they reside in darkness forever? (Pairing: ~slightly established~ White Zangetsu(Hollow) x Black Tensa(Quincy). Hurt/comfort, romance, adventure. Involves amnesiac Black Tensa and Mute White Zangetsu.) 

BLEACH Fic: No name as of yet. Not yet started. Ichigo is the new Soul King. Aizen is his advisor. This comes as a shock to everyone and may spark outrage amongst the Sereitei if not kept quiet. What’s worse? Finding out Aizen Sousuke is the Soul King’s advisor? ....Or finding out the Soul King and his so-called advisor are involved in a scandalous, intimate relationship with each other? (AizenxIchigo fic. I will not apologize fite me) 

Kingdom Hearts Fic: No name as of yet. Involves a rare, impossible meeting between Roxas and Vanitas. Their other halves are locked away asleep, safe and sound. But they are awake. And being hunted. Their forbidden meeting will spark confusion, changed alliances, and perhaps more. (Unclear if RoxasxVanitas just yet, fic is still a WIP.) 

[takaraphoenix]

Hey! What are your favorite fantasy/fairytale books, shows and movies?

Well, that is a very broad question. So... let’s structure this and tackle it.

Phoe’s Favorite Fantasy Books!

I don’t read much, so that’s a very short list. Seeing as you’re on my blog, I assume you know I read and loved Percy Jackson and the Olympians so that. However, there are fantasy series that I love way more than that.

For one the Wicked Years by Gregory Maguire, my favorite author who I adore and worship. Takes the Wicked Witch of the West from Wizard of Oz and goes “but what if she was actually a restistance fighter trying to overthrow a corrupt government under their dictator, the Wizard?”. It’s amazing, I love it. Hardest recommend for the first two books. Been not too big on the third and fourth though, but that’s what happens when these things aren’t born out of being intended as a series but rather just... sequels... happening.

Golden classic that seems silly to even mention but I love these books - Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll. I. Love. Them. I love Alice, I love the world, I love the fantasy. One of only three books that I personally allow to classify as modern fairy tales (Peter Pan and Wizard of Oz being the other two. I just... I do think that there is a difference between “fairy tale” and just general “fantasy book(s)”, but these three I do think deserve a place in the canon of fairy tale classics). Also, fun fact: my above mentioned favorite author wrote a third installment for this series for the original book’s anniversary, it’s called After Alice. (I own a signed copy. I squealed very loudly when I opened it.)

My favorite fantasy book series though is the Bartimaeus series by Jonathan Stroud. I adore these books. Yes, if taken as a singular book, the first installment of the Wicked Years, which works as a standalone too due to the series’ nature of having sequels instead of being an intended series, takes the crown, however as a whole, coherent series, including all books in the series, no fantasy franchise beats Bartimaeus for me. It is sarcastic, snarky, fun, filled with heart, totally lacking unnecessary forced romance, has a fascinating world, the writing is a great read. I love this series to bits and pieces.

Now, since you specifically said fantasy/fairytale, I’d be a fool not to mention William Joyce’s Guardians of Childhood, the book-series that Rise of the Guardians is... let’s say a sequel to? While not necessarily fairy tales in the traditional sense, having the Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, Sandman and Santa as its main characters, it does go very much into fairy tale elements. It’s a really fun read, I personally think that Joyce has a delightful and enjoyable style.

So, that’d be the five book series that I’d recommend for fantasy.

Unless you meant actual literal fairy tale books - then I will have to disappoint you, unless you’re German. Because being German, my fairy tale collection is... well... German. I got this one. Mainly, I admit, for the illustrations - Tony Wolf worked on the majority of them and I love his illustrations, he was the author and illustrator of my favorite children’s book series when I was a kid. Which, talking about fantasy, fairy tales and books, I will absolutely also recommend here. Their English name is The Woodland Folk and it is very adorable and also very scaring for small children because fairies die in it. I was very traumatized as a kid but I still loved it a lot.

Phoe’s Favorite Fantasy Movies!

Now, movies are... it depends on what movies you want; live-action or animated. I do feel that those are vastly different categories that set vastly different expectations. And then there’s the overlapping between fantasy and supernatural in many such movies.

Let’s start with live-action, which is going to be a very short list because I am really not huge when it comes to movies - I barely watch any movies and if, then they are animated in 80% of the cases.

Lord of the Rings. Yes, I know, book-people would have filed that in the category above, but look... I am not a huge reader. And the movies have pretty blonde Orlando Bloom. But I do truly love these movies, I try to rewatch them regularly but consider I less see them as a trilogy and more as one 12 hour movie, it’s always quite the time-commitment.

And, with this one I am never quite sure whether to count it as a movie series or as a mini TV series, but the way they were released on TV, they were a movie series - so The 10th Kingdom, which is basically Once Upon a Time before that came out and without the Disney. It’s about the grandson of Snow White ending up in modern day New York and getting the help of a waitress and her dad to take down his evil stepmother, who is trying to take over the 9 fairy tale kingdoms. I love this series so very, very much.

Also The Librarian, which is a fun fantasy relic hunting movie series. But more on that when we get to TV shows, because the trilogy has a tie-in series.

I do realize that actually the majority of movies in my fantasy/supernatural section are... in fact... more supernatural than fantasy. So, pathetically enough, that is... kind of it.

Now, animated movies is harder because I quite literally have a list with 360 animated movies I saw and liked to various degrees of which the majority would qualify as fantasy due to the nature of most Western animated movies. So I’ll try to “best of” as narrow as possible (seeing as I once successfully managed to narrow my favorite animated movies down to 65...). So, a shorter version of that.

Now, when it comes to fairy tales and animated movies, Disney goes without saying so I’m not even going to say it because it’s very obvious, we all know the movies, seeing the tales. I love most of them, especially their princess movies, with one huge exception. So let’s only name-drop Sleeping Beauty because I adore it, and assume you’ve already seen all other Disney animated fantasy and fairy tale movies and move on from that.

I am also morally obligated to say “Barbie movies” here, because they did a ton of fairy tale adaptations too and the majority of them are fantasy - but to keep it brief, here is a link to my ultimate Barbie movie ranking for more individual recommendations from the Barbie canon and let me also only name-drop my favorite - Diamond Castle.

Don Bluth’s Thumbelina, as well as his Anastasia are two absolute must-sees when we’re talking fantasy (and fairy tale in Tumbles’ case).

DreamWorks wise I love and adore Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas, The Road to El Dorado and Rise of the Guardians.

Now we’re getting into what I like to think of as “deep dive” territory because they’re not mainstream, they’re not big names. But I still love them.

Naturally have to say Swan Princess (1994) - the first three movies anyway, I ignore those 3D animated chep looking sequels. But the OG trilogy is a very perfect trilogy, I adore it so very much.

Another total classic would be The Last Unicorn (1998).

FernGully (1992) is a beautiful tale about fairies and one of my absolute favorite movies of all time.

A newer entry here would be Epic (2013), which is also about fairies and was written by William Joyce!

And, even if it may sound silly. The original Care Bears movies. The three from the 80s. I love them a lot, I think they’re great fantasy fun, who doesn’t love a Care Bear they are adorable, seriously.

Phoe’s Favorite Fantasy Shows!

And we move on to our last segment of this ask. I like a lot of TV shows, so I will try to keep this to my actual favorites.

My absolute favorite is Relic Hunter, it is and always will be my favorite TV show. Even if it’s cheesy at times and only has three seasons. I love it a lot. It’s... very much as it says on the tin; hot archeologist and her nerdy assistant search for magical relics.

If you like that genre, you have to also watch The Librarians - the tie-in sequel series to the movies. More librarians! More magic! More artifacts! More fun. I really love this and I mourn that they cancelled it.

Naturally Once Upon a Time - fairy tales and fantasy and I just love this TV show. Skip the last season though.

And all-time classic for me is the original Charmed - three witch-sisters discovering magic together. This was... the first ever show I actually... really consumed, with everything around it. I was totally obsessed with this, I love it. Which is why I won’t touch the reboot at all, because there’s “I loved this thing. Now there’s a new version of it! Fun!” but there is also “I loved this thing, as it is, there is no need to make a new one, why are you touching this?” - and this one was so very near and dear to my heart growing up that it is definitely the second category for me.

Definitely gotta mention BBC’s Merlin, even if it’s very, very, very flawed. It’s still fun, the characters are lovable. It has a scary fandom... in that it’s still alive and thriving, even so many years after the show’s end.

Also Grimm, though more supernatural than fantasy, it is a fairy tale show. In a way. It’s dumb but fun, because the Grimms were actually not just scholars, they were monster hunters and now modern day descendants of them are still out there hunting the same Big Bad Wolves (who aren’t all bad). I don’t know, I love it, despite the occasional cringe.

Now, lastly on the fantasy - Galavant. A musical comedy about a knight. Very fairy tale-y. Very hilarious and lovable. Sadly cancelled after two seasons.

There are many, many more fantasy shows I watch(ed), but those would be my favorites. Though I do have to tag on that elements such as vampires and werewolves are something I categorize as supernatural so they wouldn’t find mention here in fantasy (Grimm aside, due to the fairy tale theme).

I... hope I could provide a good recommendation or two!

[izupie]

If You And I Met

[AO3 LINK]

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Genre: Gen

Relationships: Nero/Kyrie (Nerokiri) , Nero & Eva (family) , Eva & Dante & Vergil (family)

Other Tags: Talking, Eva is such a mom, Nero has very little chill, but he holds the Sparda braincell, Witch!Eva, Spirits, Eva meets Nero

Summary:

Nero considers Kyrie his family, of course, but he's keenly aware that there's nobody on earth who shares his blood, and he's struggling to understand his conflicting feelings of loss and belonging. Luckily there's someone out there who's been dying to meet him - ready to offer her unique kind of help. It's just a shame she's already dead.

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

Thank you for your original inspiration for this post @sevi007 !

I deviated a little from where I thought it was going to go, but I rewrote the whole thing like twice and I’m happiest with this version~

Hope you like it! Thanks for letting me use your post as inspiration!

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

By the time Nero wriggled into their bed he was aware that the sun would rise in a few short hours, but despite his aching, weary limbs he was determined to enjoy this brief moment with his girlfriend. Her auburn hair was always left loose in bed and he gently pushed it back from her face as he wound his arms around Kyrie’s waist and buried his nose into the soft skin between her neck and her shoulder, breathing deeply. She stirred slightly with a contented sigh and placed both of her hands over his.

“You smell good,” she whispered sleepily, leaning her head back to give him a light kiss on the cheek.

Nero laughed. “You wouldn’t have said that about an hour ago.”

He’d gotten especially good at sneaking back into the house after a demon hunt and showering off the grime and blood from the demons he’d killed, then cleaning down the whole bathroom afterwards – all while Kyrie was still sleeping.

He’d stripped off his dirty clothes and gear in the garage, but they could wait.

Nero knew he was still shower-warm, and a little damp, and he loved the way she pressed herself into his embrace to soak up the warmth – he happily obliged and held her completely flush against him; her back nestled into his front. He kissed her neck and he could feel her slow pulse beneath his lips. Kyrie’s scent, her pulse, the feel of her in his arms… it was grounding. He was both Nero the demon hunter; fearlessly (recklessly) revelling in the thrill of battle, the buzz of his demon powers under his skin and the revving of his sword as it sliced through demon flesh, but he was also Nero the boyfriend; who tenderly kissed his perfect girlfriend’s neck, lived for the feel of her soft skin beneath his (human) hands, whispered ‘I love you’s through the darkness to her and cleaned demon gore out of the base of the shower because she worked hard to keep the house clean and he didn’t want to disappoint her.

He wasn’t sure how he had ended up walking the thin line between both worlds, but sometimes it felt like a tiny tip in either direction would destroy the balance he had.

Kyrie held onto his hands tightly. (Her gentle hands that had never even held a weapon.)

Nero slid his fingers between hers, entwining them. He didn’t want to tell her that it was getting harder to transform his right arm back into human flesh after his hunts. He was using his demonic powers more readily now; it gave him the strength to do anything, but every time he used his devil trigger the arm that had once been the devil bringer would stay grey and scaled and clawed until he focused enough energy to turn it back. Was it because he was using his powers too much? He was worried that one day it wouldn’t change back at all, and he’d be stuck with a demon arm again. Kyrie didn’t deserve that.

“You’re frowning, Nero” Kyrie mumbled.

“What?”

“I can feel it on my neck. What happened? You’re okay, aren’t you?”

Nero couldn’t see her, with her head facing away from him, but he could hear the concern thick in her voice.

“Yeah… Yeah I’m okay, baby.”

“Are you sure? It was a longer hunt than usual, is everything… alright?”

Nero let out a huff that was half amusement, half resignation. He could never hide anything from her. He’d tried, but she always found out in the end. Even when it was something ridiculous like when he’d accidentally knocked over one of her favourite vases in the hallway after he’d come back from a hunt one night. She’d told him that he had a guilty line between his eyebrows, and had pressed her fingertip there on and off throughout the day with a knowing smile, like all she had to do was wait it out and he’d cave and confess.

She was right, of course.

“Just demon things,” Nero eventually admitted softly, “y’know I actually wish those idiot brothers were still around so I could talk to ‘em about it.”

What? He hadn’t meant to say that at all. Where did that come from?

“Mm,” Kyrie hummed in agreement, but the sound was like a confirmation of something deeper. “Your family.”

“Fuck ‘em.” Nero gritted his teeth and felt his frown intensify. “My real family’s right here.”

Kyrie shuffled in his embrace, so he let his grip loosen to let her turn around to face him. He had no problem seeing the concern sharpening her gentle features, his part demon heritage gave him incredible night-vision, but he could see her eyes roaming across his face in the darkness, trying to make out his expression. She cupped his cheek with her hand.

“It’s okay to miss them, they’re part of your blood, Nero.” Kyrie whispered, knowing the topic still left him feeling emotionally conflicted. “But please, if you’re worried- I want you to know that I’ll listen. I mean, I know I can’t really do anything to help but-”

Nero scoffed. “Kyrie. You help me all the time. Seriously, just by being here- I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” He rested his forehead against hers and breathed her scent in deeply. “I love you- y’know that right? And I never want to hear you say that you don’t do anything to help me.” His voice was rougher than he intended, all raw emotion and exposed edges in the darkness, but he meant every word.

She used the hand still on Nero’s cheek to guide their mouths together, giving him a light gentle kiss. Her lips were smiling against his and her voice was full of affection when she replied, “I love you too. Always. I just want you to know that you can tell me if you’re worried about anything. We can talk about it.”

Nero hesitated too long. He knew it would be obvious he was keeping something from her. He sighed. “Tomorrow,” he promised, “we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.” Kyrie kissed his nose.

“That’s all I need,” Nero breathed, pulling her close to his chest again.

Kyrie snuggled into his arms and whispered so softly that she almost lost the words in her breath, “They’ll come back you know.”

“Yeah? Who will?”

“Mm. Your father. Your uncle. They’ll come back for you.”

Nero let out one bitter laugh as a snort out of his nose. It still felt weird to consider them like that. “Y’sure?”

Her breathing had evened out and slowed so much that Nero thought she’d fallen asleep, but she murmured a gentle, “Women’s intuition,” and he had to stop himself from laughing in case it woke her up.

His uncle and his… father… The Sparda family…

Nero’s overwhelming love for Kyrie and his confusing, fragile love for his newly discovered family warmed his chest as he felt himself finally drift off into sleep.

*

*

*

When Nero opened his eyes, it felt clear that he was dreaming. He was fully clothed, it was daytime, and he was sitting on a swing, holding the metal chains tightly. Beside the swing set was a silver slide and a brightly painted climbing frame in a mixture of red and blue. He looked around but the little park was surrounded by endless bright green grass as far as he could see. No trees. No buildings. No roads. Just blue sky and green grass and the child’s play park equipment. It didn’t bother him as much as he felt it should.

“Hello, Nero.” A voice spoke gently from the other swing and made him jump.

Nero had always been able to sense the presence of others, so it threw him off that someone had caught him unaware. His head whipped around to the woman now sitting in the swing beside him. “What the- Trish? What are you…”

The woman was so tall that it should have been strange to see her in such a tiny swing, but it only accentuated her long legs as she crossed them over and leaned forward, holding the chains either side of her like he was. She smiled and her whole face brightened. “No, but I can see why you’d make the mistake.”

Her long blonde hair was pushed over one shoulder and her dress was very clearly not something Trish would wear. Too conservative. Not enough skin on show. Nero knew that Trish had been created to clone the appearance of Dante’s mom. So that meant…

“You’re, uh- no way… Can’t be. It’s not possible.” His brow furrowed so hard that he knew there’d be deep lines on his forehead.

“Says the son of a half-demon,” the woman said playfully. “Grandson of the great demon knight Sparda.”

“Shit,” Nero muttered. “What the hell.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You can’t be...”

She nodded her head with barely concealed excitement. “Look, I know what you’re thinking...” She made a calming motion with her hands before a string of loud curses could escape his lips. “But I swear, this isn’t a dream.” She pursed her lips. “Or, well, it is a dream. But not in the way that makes it not real.”

Nero took a deep breath and ran a hand through his short hair. “Shit. Really? You’re Dante and Vergil’s…? My…?”

“I’m Eva. It’s nice to meet you, grandson.” Eva reached an elegant hand over, offering for Nero to shake.

He left it hanging.

Her smile was undeterred, and she lunged up to ruffle his hair with her ignored hand instead. He ducked his head away out of her reach with a spluttered curse.

“Oh, Sparda was right,” she said with a twinkling laugh, “just like an angry kitten.”

“Hey, fu-”

“-Language,” Eva chastised, as she sat back down.

If Nero had any suspicions that this was some kind of trick – that the woman sitting beside him wasn’t really his grandmother – her voice easily betrayed the kind of power that she was concealing inside; power enough to be a legendary demon knight’s wife and the mom of two half-demon idiot twins.

He’d not had a mom growing up, but he could sense that instinctive urge to obey her that the one simple reprimand had struck into him. Something older and more powerful than any demon powers out there. The bonds of family. Or obeying the lady with the mom-voice.

Her hands were folded in her lap and she threw him another smile.

His grandmother… His family…

Nero thought he heard the faint sounds of children’s laughter in the still air, but it disappeared before he could really register it. What was that?

He shook his head again. “How’s this happening?”

Eva waved a vague hand in the air. “Magic.”

Nero felt his eyebrows pull down even further.

“What?” she laughed. “You don’t believe in magic?”

“I’ve seen a lot of crazy shit-” (she clicked her tongue at his cursing) “-but it’s always been down to demonic powers. Always. Pulling a rabbit out of a hat? Nah. I’m not buying it.”

Eva looked around pointedly and Nero found himself following her gaze without realising it, not feeling the urge to keep an eye on her as if she was threat. Nothing about her set any of his demonic senses off, and everything about the park and the grass looked the same as before. Except he could swear that he heard the children’s laughter again.

“I don’t see any rabbits,” Eva whispered loudly after a long pause.

Nero cursed loudly with a scowl and made to get off the swing until she reached over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, a playful smile on her lips. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

He settled back onto the plastic seat and felt some of the fight leave him as her expression softened. “I’m sorry for hijacking you like this. I know it must be confusing.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I don’t believe in magic or ghosts.”

Eva sighed deeply and looked across at the other equipment, her hands gripping onto each other tightly in her lap. Her lips thinned into a pained line.

Nero blinked. “Oh, shi- sorry. Uh…” He’d never met a dead person, but he assumed talking about them being dead was a bit of a sore subject, no matter how long ago it was.

She shook her head and closed her eyes. “No, it’s okay. I know.”

“So… you are a… ghost?” His voice was softer than he intended, filled with a childish curiosity he just couldn’t squash.

Eva snorted and laughed loudly, the hand that came up to cover her mouth did nothing to offset the undignified laughter bubbling out of her, and she nearly doubled over on her swing. Nero was reminded intensely of Dante.

“I know,” she repeated, when she’d regained her composure, “because it’s already happened. And it’s still yet to happen.” The measured way she refolded her hands into her lap reminded Nero of Vergil, and the quirk of her lips after her maddeningly riddle-like words made him think suddenly of V.

“What?” Nero finally choked out.

“That’s the funny thing about time,” she said brightly, as if that explained anything.

“That’s really-” Nero sighed with frustration, the sound nearly a growl, and he slumped slightly in his seat. “At least I know where V got it from. Okay, I’ll bite. If this is really happening, just tell me this: if I’m here, is Kyrie okay?”

“Yes, of course, it’s just a dream. You’re still there with her right now. You could wake up, if you wanted to.” There was a hesitant hitch in her voice, and it struck Nero that if this was really happening then this really was his blood-related grandmother. Sitting right there. He’d been involved in a lot of shit that shouldn’t be possible, what was one more to add to the list?

Nero thought he could hear faint voices within the children’s laughter that bubbled back into existence briefly, but it was so quiet that he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“So, magic’s real now too? I probably shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Magic is fickle at the best of times but add time into the mix and it all gets a little…” Eva let her voice trail away and waved both hands in the air. “Being here with you right now, I’m both the me I was and whatever’s left of me.”

“Huh.” Nero said. Not that it made any damn sense. “Then why the visit now?”

“It was time. I heard your conflicted soul, and here I am.”

Nero scowled again, feeling himself bristle at the implication of weakness.

“Don’t be a baby about it,” Eva said gently with a small smile.

“I’m not!”

“Look, families are there for each other. But also… I admit, I was just dying to meet you,” she added in an excited voice, “I’d seen you in flashes of the future before, but I’m so happy we got to meet face to face. I’m only sad the rest of the family can’t be here.”

Nero heard more of the children’s laughter and he rubbed his ears as he looked about at the empty landscape angrily. Seriously, what was that? “Yeah, could have been one big happy Sparda family reunion.”

“Wouldn’t that have been nice,” she sighed.

Nero wasn’t sure if she was purposefully ignoring his biting tone or if she just hadn’t realised that he was being half-sarcastic. (He didn’t want to admit to himself that being only half-sarcastic meant he was also half-serious.)

“Things in this family have never run smoothly, Nero, and I’m sorry about everything that’s happened to you.” Eva leaned over and placed a hesitant, gentle hand on his arm. “But here you are, and you’ve grown up into such a wonderful man, despite all the hardships you’ve faced.”

“Hardships…” Nero rolled the word around on his tongue. “Yeah, you could call it that.” In no way did that one word even begin to sum up the pain he had faced, but he could appreciate her sentiment – especially when she looked at him with so much pain twisting her beautiful face.

“I want you to know that even though I’m not there, and even if you feel absolutely nothing towards me, I’m still part of your blood and I’ll be with you always. Right here.” Eva’s eyes shone with sadness as she pointed to his chest. “I love you, and it breaks my heart that I couldn’t- I can’t be there for you. That I wasn’t there for my poor sons.”

Nero realised he was gripping the swing chain so hard that the links were groaning beneath his hands. He wasn’t sure what to do about the emotions that swirled in his chest; something warm was swelling within him but he also felt his grandmother’s pain reverberate with his own.

“I just wish we could have met under less ghostly circumstances. It’s all very much something out of an old gothic fairy tale, isn’t it? Typical for this family.” There was mischief and love ringing in Eva’s voice, and Nero realised she reminded him of both twins all at once, as if both brothers had latched onto a different facet of her personality and emulated it wholeheartedly. She seemed infuriatingly fun and serious at the same time, able to switch between the two effortlessly and unpredictably.

The thought stirred the warm affection in his chest, tugging on the familial bonds he felt wrapped around his heart. He wondered if he was like her in any way, or if he was like the grandfather he’d never met.

Nero rolled his shoulders and leaned back on the swing. “Do not start quoting books at me,” he finally replied with a single snort of a laugh, thinking fondly of the thin, tattooed man he had once thought of as his friend. (Before he’d found out it had been sort-of-kind-of his dad all along. Man, that was still really fucked up no matter how many times he went over it in his head.) “I don’t think I could take any more of that.”

Eva laughed. “Oh, Nero. You give me so much hope for this family.”

“I mean, I’m the only one left with any sense so…”

“Can’t argue with you there.” Eva shook her head. “Listen, I can’t see exactly what happens, my magic doesn’t work like that, but I feel a lot of love in your future, Nero. So much of it. A whole family full.” She gave him a playful smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes – just the same expression that he’d seen on Dante’s face before.

“A whole family full, huh?” He raised his eyebrows, but there was a fluttering in his stomach.

“She loves you, Nero. All of you,” she said pointedly, her gaze flicking down to his outstretched arms.

The fluttering feeling increased and he rubbed his nose just for something to do with his hands.

“Oh, you’re even cuter in person,” Eva enthused, with another attempt to ruffle his hair. “You remind me so much of-”

“-Don’t say Vergil.”

“-Both of them. I can see Sparda in you too. And I don’t just mean the white hair.”

Nero couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face before he could stop it.

Fucking idiot family.

There was a brief pause. A comfortable silence. Eva swung back and forth slightly, and the chains creaked with the movement. Children’s voices drifted in and out of clarity.

“They’ll come back you know,” Eva declared suddenly.

Nero blinked and shook his head. “Ugh, déjà vu. Why’s everyone think they’re just gonna magically walk back outta the underworld like they went out for some booze or something.”

“Because they’re Spardas,” she said simply. “They will come back. Look, I know my sons, they won’t admit that they need help, even when they do, and then they’ll act like you’ve personally offended them just because you’ve tried to help them and it seems like you’ve wasted your time…” She crinkled her long nose and pursed her lips, as if reliving very specific memories. “But sometimes they’ll even thank you for it. Sometimes.”

Nero let out a huff of amusement. “Yeah, sounds just like that pair of assholes.”

Eva dissolved into laughter at his precocious smirk. “I’ll let you have that one,” she said once she’d regained composure, her eyes narrowed protectively, dangerously, but a smile still on her face. “You’re a good person, Nero. I want you to know that. And I want to thank you, for not letting them kill each other.”

Nero ducked his head down and stared at his feet. “I just… didn’t want to lose any more family.”

The children’s voices he’d been hearing were suddenly clearer, as if the tuning on a radio had finally caught the right station, and Nero realised he could make words out between the laughter: “I win!”

“You do not win, you- you- fool! Take it back!”

“Nuh-uh, you heard the rules, no take backs. Means I win.”

“I’ll tell mother on you…”

“Ugh you’re such a lame-face!”

“We have the same face!”

Nero looked around wildly for the source of the voices, but there were still only himself and Eva on the swings. She sighed as she caught him rubbing at his ears again and pushed herself to her feet. The swing creaked as her tall frame left the seat and she dusted the back of her dress absently. “I think our time is running very short.”

Eva held out a hand which Nero thought was to offer to help pull him up, but as he reached for it, she lunged forward and ruffled his hair with both hands instead.

“Gotcha! You are the cutest grandson ever, I swear.”

“Hey- fuck- get off me-” But he didn’t put up much of a fight.

Eva pulled away with another twinkling laugh and she let him scramble to his feet. “I’m glad I got to meet you, Nero. You’ve got a kind heart under that scrappy front you put up – like all the males in this family. Cherish the love in your soul and know that you have people out there who care about you as much as you care for them, and that you can lean on them for support, you know. Alive or dead.”

Nero thought of his phone call to Kyrie when he was undecided and confused, and how her support had helped him to unlock his true devil trigger, and he thought of Kyrie currently asleep in their bed, warm and gentle and kind. He pushed his bristling pride aside, wishing he didn’t get so bashful at the mention of love, and he nodded. “I will.”

“I knew you’d say that. When those sons of mine get back you make sure you sit down and all talk it out, okay? That’s what families do.”

Nero laughed and grinned, wondering what the three of them sitting down and talking about their emotions would look like. It was an image he couldn’t even imagine without a fight breaking out, but, really, as long as they didn’t kill each other it would be fine. “Thanks for the pep-talk, grandma.”

“Oh, no, no, no. That makes me sound horribly old.” Eva shook her head, but she was smiling the widest he’d seen. She opened her arms and Nero only hesitated for a moment before he stiffly walked forwards into her hug, though he relaxed into her embrace as she squeezed him tight. He idly wondered if it was what hugging his own mom would have felt like; something like home, protection and being loved unconditionally. No wonder Dante and Vergil had loved her so much.

She gave him one last squeeze and whispered, “Oh, you’re adorable. Adorable.”

It was enough to make him bashful and awkward again, so he took a few steps back and cleared his throat loudly, shuffling his feet.

“It was so good to meet you,” Eva said again with a smile. “Don’t give up on them. Keep letting people in.”

Nero opened his mouth to reply, but he seemed to blink for just a little too long and the whole park was bathed in darkness like someone had turned the lights off. The park itself was still the same, but the empty void around them had been replaced with roads and buildings and a path that lead up to the equipment. A moon hung in the clear inky sky and Nero could hear the distant sounds of cars.

Eva gave him one last long look, with an expression that seemed to convey all the love she had in her, then she turned away and opened her arms towards the climbing frame. “Hey, hey, boys, why are we arguing? Is it about who’s going to hug me first?”

Nero looked up to see two children leap from the top of the metal frame and land lightly on their feet. Both had short white hair, but one was wearing a blue jacket and the other a red jacket. They raced forwards into Eva’s arms and clung to her as she ruffled the tops of their heads.

“Dante was being mean. He said that he’d beat me to the top of the climbing frame, but he didn’t! He didn’t!”

“You’re such a liar Verge!”

“Am not! I’ve always been faster than you!”

“Boys, boys,” Eva interrupted as their young voices rose shrilly, “why does everything have to be a competition with the two of you, huh? You’re brothers. You should be helping each other to the top, not fighting over who can get there first.”

Both Sparda twins looked down to the ground sheepishly. Nero could barely process what he was seeing; Vergil and Dante as young children…

“Besides, I think we all know that if I was to join in on the race, I’d win. So, neither of you are the true champions of the climbing frame,” Eva boasted playfully in a grand voice.

Young Dante guffawed in a high-pitched laugh while young Vergil huffed. “But that’s not fair, you can teleport up there!”

“I don’t teleport, I just move so fast you can’t even see me – like a ninja.” Eva made a chopping motion in the air with her hand and Vergil giggled. “Maybe one day I’ll teach you. I bet you can both do it too.”

The twins gasped with excitement as Eva held both of their hands and the three of them began to make their way to the path that would lead them out of the park. “Time to go home first.”

“Hey, mom, when can we play with the other kids in the daytime?” Dante whined.

“When you can both stop accidentally activating your demon powers while you play, you silly goose.” Eva laughed as both twins groaned, but then Vergil suddenly stopped. “Vergil? Are you okay, honey?”

Nero flinched as Vergil turned around and stared straight at him. “Who were you talking to?”

Eva smiled knowingly. “Just a friend. Come on kids, I’ll make us all hot chocolate before bedtime.”

Vergil’s blue-eyed stare was unnerving, even as a child, and it made something odd prickle under Nero’s skin. Eventually he re-joined his brother and reached up to hold his mom’s hand again, and Nero could hear their chatter fading as they walked away from him, not able to stop the smile that lit up his face.

*

*

*

Sunlight warmed Nero’s eyelids as it woke him gently. He breathed in Kyrie’s scent and nuzzled his nose into her hair. She was still in his arms, their legs tangled together, and her gentle, even breathing tickled his neck.

He caressed her cheek with a touch that was so feather soft she didn’t even stir. The churning in his stomach was gone. His hand was a perfect human peachy pink, but he knew without a doubt that if it was a demon claw there instead, Kyrie would feel the same about him.

“I love you,” he murmured thickly into her hair, “and you’re right – they’ll come back. My idiot uncle and my idiot dad. Our family. I’ll knock some sense into them when they do.”

The Sparda family, both living and dead, were a part of him – and for the first time ever, he was glad of it and who he was.

[somniumoflight]

Crossover Idea #10 – My Hero Academia/Avatar: The Last Airbender

The Fire Nation’s royal family is haunted by two spirits that appear under very specific circumstances – these spirits are Todoroki Shoto and Dabi.

So, I’ve been reading a lot of Avatar fanfictions lately, and amongst the ones I’ve read is this really good BNHA crossover fanfic where Zuko and Todoroki keep accidentally switching places with each other in their respective worlds.  The fanfic itself isn’t too long yet (only 4 chapters so far) but there’s a very long bnha atla swap au tag on @captainkirkk’s tumblr page (might have gotten the acronyms in the wrong order, be forewarned) where people have drawn many, many comparisons between the Todoroki family and the Fire Nation royal family, and that kind of inspired this idea.

So, here’s the rundown of this crossover au.  The first divergence happened a hell of a long time ago, only a couple generations after the first Fire Lord was properly crowned.  The grandson of the first Fire Lord (aka the third Fire Lord, aka guess who this is?) sought the power to surpass his generation’s Avatar, at first with his own flames but eventually by finding a spiritually powerful firebender of mixed blood to force into a marriage, in the hopes that having more than Fire Nation in their blood would make his children strong enough to challenge the Avatar.  This, and that Lord’s abusive “training” of his two sons, backfired on him magnificently when the eldest son first ran away, then tried to lead a rebellion against his father and in the process convinced his youngest sibling to help said rebellion. When the two boys were executed for treason after the rebellion failed, their ghosts lingered, haunting their family so that they could continue trying to bring their father down after death.

Except after their father finally died, they continued to linger in the living world rather than moving on.  So now they haunt the royal family and have been doing so for generations, and slowly over the centuries have become proper spirits rather than just human ghosts – one, a guardian spirit for those betrayed by those of their blood (Shoto) and the other an avenger who lingers as long as the one betrayed wants vengeance but has yet to take it (Dabi.)

Fast forward to when Zuko is alive.  For as long as his father’s been treating him poorly in favor of Azula (so, like, as soon as Azula started bending before him), he’s been catching glimpses of a strange teenager with mismatched eyes and a streak of white in his hair around the palace, usually when something nasty is about to happen to him and then some weird incident happens that stops that something nasty in its tracks.  Nobody but Zuko seems to realize he’s there until after his Uncle comes back from Ba Sing Se, sees the spirit as well, and realizes just how screwed up the royal family’s become.  And then little differences start stacking up, influencing canon as they go and blowing everything off the rails one wheel at a time.

Details of this crossover:

Endeavor was the grandson of the first Fire Lord in the Fire Nation’s history, and the third Fire Lord to be crowned.  He was, according to legend, one of the most powerful Fire Lords to ever rule, and was said to be friends with his generation’s Avatar (who, come on, has to be All Might. Who else could it be?)

However, jealous of the power that that Avatar had, Endeavor forced a woman of mixed Fire Nation and Water Tribe blood (there were probably Water Tribe pirates, let’s say that her mother was fire nation… let’s leave it at that) and great spiritual and (water)bending power to marry him, in the hopes that the mixed blood would make his children powerful enough to contend with the Avatar.

Technically he sort of got what he wanted – his eldest son found it remarkably easy to use the more powerful blue flames that he had such trouble with, and his youngest son figured out how to imitate waterbending by basically pulling a Zuko from Vathara’s Embers – he could put heat into water and manipulate it that way

However, both of these powerful children hated his guts for how he treated them while “training,” and so when the eldest son (Dabi) ran away and eventually returned as the leader of a rebellion against him, and the youngest (Shoto) was convinced to help his oldest brother in order to protect his family, he was “forced” to hunt them down and kill them before they could topple his regime.

The two sons, however, lingered after death as ghosts in order to protect their remaining family from their father (Shoto) and keep trying to kill him as revenge (Dabi).  They lingered for so long waiting for their old man to die that some of the servants in the palace started praying to them as if they were spirits, and as such when Endeavor finally died (Dabi managed to destroy the ceiling in his room somehow and crushed him under the beams) the two ghosts ended up lingering as… guardian spirits of sorts, for their siblings’ descendants.

They only appear when similar circumstances to their own life – one of the royal family trying to hurt (physically or emotionally) one of their siblings, parents, children, etcetera – and otherwise do not interact with the family.

Fast forward thousands of years, Shoto and Dabi have grown in power, and their origins have faded from the annuls of Fire Nation history. Zuko is born to Ozai, and it soon becomes clear that Ozai is not happy with his perfectly good son, and could care less whether he lives or dies. He starts seriously considering hurting the boy when Azula starts bending before him, which is when Shoto first starts appearing.

He mostly protects Zuko from attempts on his life or accidents that could end up hurting him. This includes everything from assassination attempts from people within or without the Fire Nation to, I dunno, random branches falling out of trees that could squash him.  On one memorable occasion Shoto saves Zuko from drowning, which draws the attention of the palace staff and Ozai, since it was so very clearly a spirit that saved him – what else could make water boil and then surge to shore carrying the drowning boy?

Zuko basically ends up growing up in the palace with a spiritual bodyguard hovering over his shoulder that he’s at first barely aware of and knows next to nothing about, save that the spirit is apparently Fire Nation yet controls water somehow, and he seems to grow stronger as the years go on.

Technically, Shoto is getting stronger, but not because more time is passing – it’s because Ozai starts betraying Zuko as a father more and more, and Shoto’s starting to be reminded of his own father, and he DOES NOT APPRECIATE THE SIMILARITIES THANK YOU.

Then the Agni Kai happens – and the entire room of people watching the Agni Kai against Zuko’s father are right there to see Shoto suddenly appear before all of them, extremely pissed off at Ozai.  While most of the people in the room don’t know what his appearance means, Ozai does – he knows what makes this particular spirit appear, and if anyone else in the room knew then he’d be screwed.

So instead of killing Zuko after the Agni Kai, like he was seriously considering, he banishes his son.

Shoto ends up sticking with Zuko throughout all his years searching for the Avatar and throughout the course of the canon story.  His presence doesn’t overly change much, except Aang and eventually Katara and Sokka (after the North Pole) can see him due to their various spirit shenanigans across the nations, and seeing a spirit with the same scar as Zuko throws them through a loop a bit.

Things do make a major change after Azula arrives to take Zuko and Iroh back to the Fire Nation as prisoners.  See, while most people don’t know the true nature of Shoto and Dabi as spirits, one of the few people (other than Ozai) that does is Iroh, mostly thanks to that pilgrimage he took following Ba Sing Se.  And during one particularly bad day when Zuko is basically cursing Shoto’s existence because he doesn’t need help, why is this spirit even here, Iroh decides to tell him exactly why that spirit is there.

Finding out why Shoto is protecting him – because his father has betrayed him, and wants to harm him – shakes Zuko’s faith in Ozai WAY earlier than canon.  It also plants a budding seed of resentment against his father and Azula (who has also betrayed him, if to a lesser extent than his father), which eventually leads to Zuko actually taking Aang and Katara’s side against Azula in Ba Sing Se, instead of later.

This is where Dabi comes into play, because unlike Shoto, who appears whenever Zuko needs to be protected from one of his own blood, Dabi appears whenever Zuko feels resentment and, even if only for a moment, seriously wants to hurt one of his own blood.  Even normal siblings will occasionally want to strangle each other – there’s no way Zuko didn’t seriously want to hurt Azula at some point, even in canon.

So during the fight with Azula, Zuko feels just enough resentment of how perfect an heir to Ozai Azula is that Dabi appears and literally turns Azula’s own flames against her, burning her.  It leaves a nasty scar similar to Dabi’s own across Azula’s face – a scar she cannot hide, a scar that makes her less than perfect, and Zuko is more than a little horrified, especially when he later finds out it was his own anger against her that technically let Dabi hurt her.  He may have seriously wanted to hurt her, but he didn’t actually want to put her in danger from their father, and those scars are very recognizable.

Dabi doesn’t hurt anybody again for a long time, but Zuko keeps seeing him out of the corner of his eye or in reflections, or in dreams of his and Shoto’s past that he starts having following being attacked by another spirit while traveling with the Gaang out of Ba Sing Se or something.

Those dreams eventually lead to Zuko discovering just who Shoto and Dabi were in the past, with help from Iroh and the Gaang, and Zuko decides that not only is he going to help take down Ozai and keep his sister off the throne, but he’s going to do everything in his power to make certain that nobody in the royal family is ever hurt by their family again, at least not like THAT.

After that most things are more or less canon in terms of actual events during the show, and the last bit of canon divergence before the end of the show’s timeline is, when Aang turns up with Ozai after getting rid of his firebending, Ozai tries to convince him to take revenge against him, to burn him, kill him – and Zuko decides that he’s already had his revenge against him.  That’s the last time Dabi appears, when he ends up burning a mark of shame into Ozai’s face and then vanishes and is never seen by any of the Gaang again.

Shoto, on the other hand, lingers for a long time, and Zuko still sees him out of the corner of his eyes as he becomes Fire Lord and works towards a better future for himself and his nation.

Cracky alternative title for this crossover: “Fuck Endeavor and Ozai: Shitty Parents Need to Burn”

[viewfromthevault]

Fallout OC Interview

Thanks to the lovely @tarberrymentats for the tag 💜

Rules

Choose an oc

Answer the questions as that oc

Tag 5 people to do the same

I’ll tag @nonbinaryrobot @rogue-lavellan @drneverland @commonwealthcommoner and whoever else wants to do it because I never know if I’m bugging people by tagging them or not 🤣

Gonna do this with Lesley

Okay so I got waaayy carried away and thought maybe I should throw this under a read more for the sake of your dashboards.

1. What is you’re name?

“Lesley Elvira Mathews. Not a real fan of Elvira so don’t call me that unless you wanna get whacked.”

2. How old are you?

“Shit, I dunno. I was nineteen when I got the boot. How many years ago was that now?”

(Lesley’s timeline is a bit funky at the moment. I wanna say this takes place after main story stuff and before fo4, so she’ll be in her early twenties)

3. What do you look like?

“A fucking legend.”

4. Where are you from? Where do you live now?

“See, I thought I was born in Vault 101, but actually I was born somewhere in the wasteland then grew up in the vault. Not a fun environment to grow up in, to tell you the truth. A lotta assholes livin’ there, except Amata.

“I’m happy to say that now I live in my very own house in Megaton. It’s not a super private place, though. Gotta few couch surfers.”

5. What was your childhood like?

“Could’ve been better, actually. Like I said before, there were a lot of assholes in 101. Had a real hard time making friends. People liked to call me the problem kid because I got in a lot of fights, but I didn’t start all of them and those fuckers had it coming. Grown-ups complained about me all the time and the Overseer hated my guts, but that’s ok because I hated his about the same.

“I guess it wasn’t all bad, though. My dads were pretty great, even when James was too busy being James. Granny Palmer used to look after me when they were both busy, she was really nice. And then there’s my best friend, Amata. If it weren’t for her I probably would have went nuts in there.”

6. What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions?

“I currently do work with Reilly’s Rangers and the Regulators. I get to run around the wastes and kill bad guys for money?? They had me at ‘caps.’

“I used to be part of the Brotherhood of Steel, though I don’t remember actually signing up or anything. They dropped my sorry ass as soon as they thought I wasn’t useful anymore. Bastards.

“This one lady also said I could be part of this Railroad group if I didn’t tell this fancy suit where this android person went. Still waiting for them to call me back.”

7. Tell me about your best friend.

“It used to be Amata, but we went our separate ways. Good terms, though. The fella that fills that role now is the bee’s fuckin’ knees. Tall, knows his way around a gun, kinda cranky, but he has a secret softy side.”

8. Do you have a family? Tell me about them!

“Well, the family I told you about earlier kinda fell in on itself when James fucked off. Jonas was murdered and I got stuck with the blame, James zapped himself with enough radiation to ghoulify a super mutant. Last I checked, Granny Palmer was ok, as okay as you can be when your only grandson is killed. I don’t know if she’s still around. I also had a mom once, she died about five minutes after I was born.

“The family I got now? Pretty bomb. There’s aunt Cross, though I don’t get to see her much anymore, Butch who surprisingly is like a brother to me, Fawkes the coolest meta human around, Dogmeat the goodest boy, that little urchin from Lamplight that shows up now and then to drink all my Nuka-Cola, and Charon of course. I’d say Wadsworth, too, but he’d take offense to that.”

9. What about partner or partners?

“Oh man he’s fuckin’ great. Lots of people are scared of him, but he’s real sweet when you take the time to know him. A complete badass that I would absolutely die for. A lot smarter and funnier than people give him credit for. He’s one of the few people who actually listens to me and doesn’t get mad when I get to yakking too much. Is willing to stick his neck out for me, not that I want him to do that, mind you, but it’s real nice to know he’d never throw me to the wolves like others would. Nice ass... what were we talking about?”

10. Have you ever heard of the Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them?

“Uh, yeah? I just told you I was with them once. To be honest, though, they’re far from perfect. Sarah and the old man are pretty great, and Cross of course. But there’s a lot of shit that goes down without the old man knowing about it. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear the guy died under ‘mysterious circumstances’ and they put up some wet mop in his place.”

11. Who are your enemies, and why?

“Jeeze who isn’t? I don’t know who’s paying them, but the Talon Company is dead set on killing my ass. Their client could be slavers since they hate me with a passion. Arefu doesn’t like me for some reason (ooc: thanks for the gitch, game). I don’t have enough fingers to count this shit out.

12. What about the Enclave?

“Those motherfuckers are lucky I wasn’t at Adams Airforce Base. I’d teach them the meaning of the word slaughter.”

13. How do you feel about super mutants?

“They’re real fun to fight with, but it’d be nice if they didn’t always try to shoot you on sight you know? Why can’t they be more chill like Fawkes?”

14. Have you ever fought a deathclaw?

*points at stump* “The fuck do you think?”

15. What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in?

“Me and a bunch of folks took over a spaceship once.”

16. Do you like fighting?

“Does a yao guai shit in a landfill?”

17. What’s your weapon of choice?

“I’m a real fan of stabbing shit, so I mostly work with swords. I have this neat ass one I made myself from schematics I got from vampires, don’t ask, I like to call Shishkebab. That baby has a funky little function where the blade catches fire, which is pretty damn cool if you ask me. I also got a neat sword with an electrified blade from a weird pre-war bunker thing.”

18. How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L.?)

“I’m fast, strong and I talk real good.”

[S-7 P-5 E-7 C-7 I-5 A-6 L-5]

19. Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think of them?

“Yes, I grew up in one. Keep up! As for the others I’ve seen, I guess I should consider myself lucky that I was stuck with the one I was. Vault-Tec is fucked, man.”

20. How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it effected you?

“Rad-X and Radaway are pretty expensive, so for the most part I just try to stay away from it. I did intentionally get super sick from radiation once, but as far as I know it didn’t have any lasting effects.”

21. What’s your favourite wasteland critter?

“Dogmeat. He hasn’t tried to eat me yet.”

22. What’s your least favourite wastelad critter?

“Fucking mirelurks. With their big meaty claws and their gross shells, swimming arounf waiting to get you by the ankle. I hear they have more legs in other parts of the country.”

23. How do you feel about robots?

“I guess they’re ok. I wouldn’t put a whole lot of trust in them, but if they don’t bother me then I won’t bother them.”

24. How many caps do you have on you right now?

“Not enough for you to wanna mug me for after this wraps up if that’s what you’re asking.” (she’s fucking broke)

25. Nuka-Cola or Sunset Sasparilla?

“Sunset Saspawhat?”

26. Do you do chems?

“Only when I need to, they’re too expensive otherwise.”

27. Do you ever think about the pre-war world?

“What is there to think about? They fucked up the world and now we have to deal with the consequences.”

28. What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently?

“Maybe if I got to Dad sooner he wouldn’t have died. Maybe neither of them would have died. I don’t know.”

29. What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve?

“I guess my biggest achievement would be getting to where I am now, finding a place and people who like me because I’m me. Learning that I can be loved. Mushy shit.”

30. What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world?

“To be able to live freely and happily no matter how you look or act. To always have an adventure waiting around the corner. I just want us all to have a good time, you know?”

[qelizhus]

wip tag game

moving this to my writeblr, but was tagged by @farrradays, thank you! this is for ‘the odes’, where i need to find a better name and make a wip intro. still. tagging @kaigods @dragonauthor @royal-artichoke @tayluin @explosivebang @melwrotethat if any of yall wanna do it. this is very long, so it’ll be under the cut. i apologize in advance for my answers, my brain is currently fried. 

1. describe the plot in one sentence

girl finds herself distressed after bff dies, goes to great lengths to reunite and/or make bff proud

2. pick one sight, sound, smell, feel and taste to describe its aesthetic 

sight: the sun meeting the horizon

sound: constant movement; the sound of feet marching against the ground

smell: smoke & the memory of home

feel: mist touching skin, the dampness of clothing

taste: hot chocolate powder

3. which 3+ songs would make up a playlist for the novel?

billie eilish - ocean eyes, grandson - things change, two feet - lost the game, svrcina - meet me on the battlefield... probably

4.  what’s the time period and location in which the novel takes place?

takes place on the fictional planet ‘aeon’, sometime not-as-technologically-advanced-as-we-are-now. i haven’t figured out all the time period details yet, lmao. 

5. are there any former titles you’ve considered but have discarded? 

considering this is not even a solid title... no. unfortunately. i’m worried i’m gonna get too attached to ‘the odes’ that i’m not going to be able to find a proper title. 

6. what’s the first line?

“Frélik was not the first of his kind to be born. Far from it, though it was not as if there were many others alive at the moment.”

7. what’s a dialogue you’re particularly proud of? 

i didn’t look very far but: 

““I doubt you’d want me to give you the perfect summary,” she says, dryly. “There’s always some truth to rumours and old folk tales, didn’t you learn? Every—you know, anyone that is born there, they aren’t evaluated. They’re only expected to be perfect; the ideal of purity and kindness and all of those happy traits.” 

 “You weren’t,” he guesses. 

“I wasn’t,” she agrees.”

8. which line from the novel represents it the most? 

these are all so hard to answer

““I like living,” Amara mutters, but no one responds to her comment.” i was debating between this one and a different line, but that one was more spoilery, so i left it. 

9. who are your character faceclaims?

i’ve really only chosen four, but one of the four i can’t find the name of the person, so have at what’s left: 

rylee - chiharu okunugi

myrau - darya dogusheva

frelik - mahesh jadu

10. sort your characters into hogwart houses: 

ooh i really like this one. these are all off the top of my head, but i’ll do it by group: 

gryffindor: tyren, myrau, yara, vare

hufflepuff: rylee, mira, frelik, carena, ter

ravenclaw: ben, arcas

slytherin: riya, amara

11. which character’s name do you love the most?

riya. it’s really cute. (she’s also, like, my fav character out of all of them, so there’s that too.) 

12. describe each character’s outfit. 

can i skip this one? i’m skipping this one. (most of them are deities, so they’re like blobs of mist.)

13. do any of the characters have distinct birthmarks/scars? 

i’ve never really put much thought into the characters’ appearances, so... i don’t know! rylee definitely has scars, as does yara... really, most of the mortal ones. there’s a lot of fighting, so i’d imagine it would be hard to avoid that, much less from general clumsiness. for the deities, i’d go with myrau, if she chooses to keep them around. i think she would hide them for a while, before accepting them. 

14. which character most fits a character trope?

i’m not very knowledgeable about character tropes, admittedly. i will say myrau has a little bit of a ‘found family’ thing going on with amara and vare, though. 

15. which character would be the best writer? worst?

tyren definitely was a great writer. maril--one of the “city elders”--would be a good writer too. the worst... would be rylee. wow, i really don’t seem to think very highly of my main character asdl;fkj

16. which character is the best liar? worst? 

carena is hands down the best liar. yara and myrau might tie for second. i’d say frelik is the worst. sorry, bud. 

17. which character swears the most? least? 

i actually didn’t write any swears into it, so this is interesting to think about. i think ter probably swears the most; he’s a very passionate guy. a little too much, to be honest. mira seems to be the kind of person who tries to avoid swearing as much as possible. 

18. which character has the best handwriting? worst? 

tyren has terrible handwriting. bet. i think ben--a very obnoxious deity--would never have learned to write though, so maybe him. on the other hand, arcas probably has very neat handwriting. 

19. which character is most like you? least like you? 

hmm. i think the way rylee perceives things and comes to decisions is very much like me. amara is very forthright and self-confident, which i personally don’t see in myself. all in all, though, i imagine i share a lot of similarities with most of my characters. 

20. which character would you most like to be? 

i admire riya a lot. she has a good grip on her emotions and pretty rational when making difficult decisions, but cares a lot for those close to her. she’s also pretty independent and self-assured. 

[bae-in-maine]

The Hocus To My Pocus

Notes: This is my addition to the Hocus Pocus theme for Clextober18! This story is loosely based on the 1993 Disney movie, Hocus Pocus. This is a multi-chapter story, and the first two chapters are posted here and on AO3 and FF. The rest of the story will be posted on AO3 and FF by 10/31/18 under my author name: Jude81. 

Rating: Current rating is T+, but as the story continues, the rating might change. 

Tags: Clexa, Clarke and Lexa, Raven, Echo, Nia, Anya, Madi, Aden, Salem, Hocus Pocus, Halloween hijinks, high school. More tags will be added on AO3 and FF. 

@clextober

************************************ Chapter 1: 

“Come on, Madi! We are going to be late if you don’t get a wiggle on!” Clarke stood at the bottom of the staircase, hand on the railing as she leaned forward in an attempt to project her voice so her nine year old sister would hurry up. She’d promised Madi she would take her trick or treating, and it was already 7:00 pm. If they hurried, she could be back in time at 9:00pm and make her way to the party at the Tri mansion being thrown by none other than her new highschool crush, one Lexa Tri, Captain of both the swim team and cross country team.

She tapped her fingers on the bannister, wincing when she noticed some flecks of dry paint still embedded around her fingernails. “Crap,” she muttered as she tried to pick away the paint. She was interrupted though by a loud yell, and she looked up just in time to catch the small body clad in a Wonder Woman costume.

She stumbled backwards, her feet desperately trying to regain their footing as she wrapped her arms tightly around her younger sister, but the sheer force of small body hurling through gravity propelled her backwards into a wall with a loud thump.

“Damn, Madi!” She yelped as she wheezed from getting the air partially knocked out of her. She let Madi slowly slide down her body, while she bent over, hands on her knees wheezing slightly.

“You shouldn’t swear, Clarke.”

“And you shouldn’t throw yourself down the stairs like that, Madi! What if I hadn’t caught you?!”

Madi cocked her head, looking up at her sister before smiling a little. “But you always catch me, Clarke. Always.”

Clarke stood slowly and looked down at her younger sister. Madi might have been nine, but she was the size of a six year old, a small six year old. She’d been sick most of her life, the doctors never really understanding the stomach pain and wild mood swings that plagued the young child. Her parents had abandoned her at the age of three in the hospital, deciding that the medical bills and a sickly child were simply too much for them.

Abby had been her doctor, specializing in diseases and pediatric care, but it had been Clarke who had fallen in love with Madi one day when she visited Abby at the hospital. It didn’t take much convincing, Jake and Abby had always wanted more children, but the time had never been right, and ten year old Clarke had convinced them that this child had been waiting for them, and they her.

The adoption had become official when she was five years old, and now they understood better Madi’s sensory issues and her dyslexia. Her stomach issues meant she was on a restricted, no dairy and no gluten diet, which made Halloween, her favorite holiday, particularly….tricky.

But Clarke was ready, her backpack stuffed with an extra Wonder Woman costume, wipes, underwear, water, noise-canceling headphones, and special gluten and dairy free candy. Candy she would sneak into Madi’s plastic, pumpkin head basket and exchange for the snickers and kit-kat bars when Madi was inevitably distracted by something else.

Madi’s stomach issues also usually meant Madi was prone to accidents, something that was often humiliating for Madi, but after years of this, they had a system in place, and Clarke was very good at helping minimize her sister’s shame, turning it into a game of costume changes.

She ruffled the top of Madi’s head, laughing at the way Madi jerked her head away. “Noooo! My hair, Clarke!”

She laughed again, “You hair is fine, Madi.” She leaned down so they were eye to eye and tapped Madi on the nose. “Hey…” she waited for Madi to look at her. “I will always catch you, Madi. Always.”

“I know.” Madi smiled happily, clutching her shield and grabbed Clarke’s hand. “Let’s go!” She pulled on Clarke’s hand, her small feet skipping along as Clarke chuckled and let herself be pulled out of the house, stopping only to turn and lock the door, before they stepped into the small crowds of children running about along the long sidewalks framed by tall trees and light posts every six feet.

***************************

Lexa stepped out of the house, shutting out most of the noise behind her. It was eight, and the party was supposed to start in another hour or so, although judging by the number of people in her parents’ home, they party was already well under way. The basement had been set up for her and her friends, while the ground floor was reserved for the adults to have their own Halloween party.

The adult theme this year was Unconventional Couples, and she shuddered at the thought of how many Jokers and Harley Quinns would probably show up at the party. But she supposed the theme was fitting, since her parents were considered fairly unconventional. Her mother, Indra Tri, was a four star general in the Marines, the only woman to ever achieve such a high rank, and she was technically retired, but she made a lot of trips from their home in Salem, Massachusetts to Washington DC, trips that she couldn’t speak about. And her father Gustus Tri was a great hulking man with more tattoos than he spoke languages, and he spoke seven. He taught Economics and Classical Literature at Salem State University.

Her parents roots were deep in Salem, especially her mother’s. Her mother’s family had been here since the early 1600’s, one of the original families. Her grandfather back twelve or so generations had been one of the first black slaves brought to Salem in the 1630’s, only a couple of years after Salem had been founded. It had been his grandson who had earned his freedom, and the subsequent generations had been freemen despite slavery not being abolished until the 1790’s in Massachusetts.

Their roots were deep, and Lexa’s freed tenth generation grandfather had taken the last name Sangedakru, in honor of his African grandfather’s clan. But over the years it had been Anglicized and then Americanized until it was simply Sanderson. It was a seemingly simple, innocuous name, and most had forgotten it’s African origins, but it still caused people in Salem to pause when they heard it.

Because when people thought of Salem, they thought of the Salem Witch Trials, and those who visited Salem, quickly learned of another trial, the trial of the three Sanderson Sisters. Three sisters, all witches, accused of sucking the life of the children of the village, so the sisters could be immortal.

And on October 31, 1693, the three sisters were hanged in the dead of night by the light of dozens of torches from the townspeople. But before they died, with her last breath, Nia Sanderson cast a spell promising that when a virgin lit the candle on the night of Hallow’s Eve, the sisters would rise again.

Lexa stood on the front porch watching as witches and goblins, ghosts, and iron men, and captain americas, and zombies, and princesses, and winnie the poohs, and cowgirls littered the street, bustling about  about, screaming excitedly to each other, pillowcases and pumpkin heads laden with candy.

She shivered and looked up at the full moon peeking behind the clouds. The sky was a dark slate, shadowed in blues and purples. The moon hung in the sky, a silvery white that simply glowed, pushing the shadows back. It was beautiful, but there was something chilling in the air, something more than the fall frost in the air. She pulled her sherpa fleece tighter around herself, trying to shake the feeling of...something...something big...impending...dark...something just around the corner.

She chuckled and glanced over, eyes widening slightly at the black cat that had jumped up on one of the thick marble railings. “Well, hello there, Raven.” She reached out and scratched behind the black cat’s ears. “I was wondering when I would see you.”

She smiled at the way Raven bumped her hand, clearly in the mood for more scratching behind her ears. Lexa smiled, enjoying the soft silk of her fur against her fingertips. She glanced down at the red collar, with the old, tarnished heart hanging from it. It simply said Raven. There was something about the old metal heart that always made her feel strange, almost cold. It was old, her father had said that it had been made by a blacksmith, you could see the hammer dings in it. This wasn’t a heart that was purchased on Amazon or at Petco.

But no one knew who the cat belonged to. She came and went. Lexa would go months without seeing her, and then she would suddenly pop up again. Lexa and her parents fed the cat every time. And when she was a child, she had tried to find the owners, hanging up flyers, even asking the local police if they knew who owned the cat, but no one knew. They only knew that the cat had just always...been. Even the old-timers who gathered down at The Witche’s Brewe swore they had seen the same cat with the red collar and tarnished heart when they were children.

But a cat couldn’t be sixty odd years old. Could it?

She glanced away, trying to shake the feeling. Raven never failed to show up on Halloween. Every single year as long as Lexa could remember, starting when she was four, Raven had appeared on the marble railing on Halloween night. She licked her dry lips and turned away again.

“Well, Raven, I think I’m going to take a walk. You coming?” She walked down the steps, knowing without seeing that Raven was a few steps behind her. They did this every year, walked down the streets, turned up the north alley, and kept walking until they reached the Sanderson Museum. It was the original Sanderson Cottage and had been passed down to her mother, and someday she supposed she would inherit it. She rarely went in. The cottage was...unsettling, especially on Halloween, but sometimes it felt like it was calling to her. And she knew Raven was intimately acquainted with the cottage. She had seen her around the cottage enough times to guess that maybe it was her home.

It had been her great-grandfather who had turned it into a museum in the very early 1900’s, after returning from the Great War. He had been like a man possessed, cleaning out the cottage, repairing parts of it, and then setting it up as a museum. It was popular in the summer, but nobody went near it on Halloween, the curse hanging over them like an avenging shadow. And no teenager wanted to admit they were a virgin anyway.

She scoffed and tucked her hands into her pockets and stepped out onto the small street, turning left and walking down the sidewalk away from the center of town. It was quieter here, along the neatly cobbled sidewalks, the tall trees swaying slightly in the light breeze. She pulled the beanie down over her ears, wishing she’d grabbed her gloves. She walked down the street, nodding at the children tumbling about, the crowds quickly thinning out, as most people were headed to the center of town. Little Salem. It was technically part of Salem, but functioned as it’s own small town of about 17,000 people. Big enough for a movie theater, golf course, boutiques and stores catering to the tourists, small police force and a ten man fire department, three healthcare clinics, and the hospital was only twenty minutes away in the heart of Salem. It was a good town, perfect for her. Not big enough to feel truly lost and alone, but still big enough to afford her a little bit of independence.

She turned crossed the street at the stop sign and turned the corner, Raven padding along behind her, only run into something or someone.

She yelped when their bodies collided, and she stumbled narrowly missing tripping over Wonder Woman.

“Damn!”

“Holy Hell Hannah!”

“You shouldn’t swear.”

She blinked and looked down, her eyes clashing with green that looked almost exactly like her own. “Oh..I...uh...sorry…” She muttered, pink blossoming across her cheeks.

She glanced over to the older girl, swallowing harshly at the sight of a wild mane of blonde curls tumbling about the girl’s face, her snapback askew on her head, her blue eyes sparkling in peach cheeks.

“Sorry. Are you hurt?” She looked back down at Wonder Woman, “You ok?”

“Yup.” Madi nodded and shuffled her feet leaning into Clarke’s side, relaxing the moment she felt her sister’s arm fall across her shoulders.

“Yeah. Yeah...sorry. That was my fault. I was hurrying,” she laughed, pink now staining her own cheeks, as she scrubbed at her cheek with her other hand before grasping the brim of her hat, and turning it back so it was behind her head again.

Great. Her crush. Clarke had smacked right into Lexa, and damn if she hadn’t smelled good. Like vanilla and lavender. She licked her lips and looked away, too embarrassed to look her in the eye.

Lexa smiled a little, she had noticed the blonde in a couple of her classes, and she didn’t know much about her, a recent transfer from California. She knew the girl took a lot of art classes, including at least one class at the local college. She might have asked Octavia about Clarke. The two were in the same classes, both Juniors while Lexa was a Senior.

Clarke straightened her shoulders and stuck out her hand, grimacing a little when she remembered that she still had paint on her fingers, but it was too late, because Lexa grabbed it in shook it.

“I’m Clarke.”

“I know.” Lexa smiled and held her hand a little longer than necessary before finally releasing it.

“Oh. Right. We have some of the same classes,” Clarke ducked her head glancing down just in time to see Madi roll her eyes at her. Madi might have only been nine, but Clarke still shared almost all her secrets with Madi. And Madi was well aware of who Lexa was.

She bit her lip, hoping and praying that Madi wouldn’t...well be Madi. Just this once, her sweet sister with a corruptible streak might actually not out her in front of Lexa. Although she had an idea Lexa already knew she was bi, as she didn’t exactly hide it. No, she prayed Madi wouldn’t out her crush on Lexa.

“You’re Lexa.”

Clarke winced. Too late.

Lexa looked down at Wonder Woman, and then glanced up at Clarke, quirking her eyebrow at her, a small smile playing about her lips. It was clear that Wonder Woman knew who she was, despite Lexa not introducing herself.

“I am. And what is your name, Wonder Woman?” She held out her hand, smiling at the way Madi blinked owlishly up at her, chewing on her lower lip, before finally deciding to shake Lexa’s hand. Lexa was surprised by the firm grip, but it still made her smile.

“I’m Madi, Clarke’s younger sister. She talks about you. A lot. I like your cat. Our eyes are the same.” Lexa blinked, her mouth hanging open a little, her mind buzzing with all the words that had just tumbled past Madi’s lips.

Madi...Clarke...talks about you...cat...Cat? What cat? Oh! Raven!...eyes.

She nodded and chuckled looking up to meet the mortified face of Clarke, her peach skin now flaming red. She chuckled again and reached out, laying her hand on Clarke’s arm. “Really?”

Clarke closed her eyes briefly, debating between yelling at Madi or just keeping her eyes closed forever so she wouldn’t ever have to face Lexa again. But she was pulled out of her humiliating reverie by a squeeze to her arm, and the sudden warmth of a tall body almost pressing into her’s.

“Hey. It’s ok.”

She looked up, blinking at how closely Lexa was standing in front of her. The older girl was only a couple inches taller, and only a few inches away. Her eyes wandered across high cheekbones, dusky skin with a light smattering of golden freckles across her nose, to full coral colored lips. She licked her own, wishing she had the courage to close the space between them, but before she could even finish formulating the thought, Lexa stepped back.

Lexa blew out a shaky breath, her skin warm enough now that she unzipped her jacket a little. She glanced down at Madi. “Yes, we do have the same eyes don’t we.” She bent down a little until she was eye-level with Madi.

“You know, Madi. I’ve noticed your sister too. I know she likes to paint, and she is funny. I like hearing her laugh,” she whispered to Madi, pretending to ignore Clarke, but making sure Clarke could still hear her.

She heard Clarke gasp, and it made her smile again as she straightened. “Have you had fun trick or treating?”

Madi nodded and reached up grabbing Clarke’s hand, “Clarke? Are we going to do more trick or treating, or are we going home?”

Clarke nodded. They’d already hit the houses on the lower end where they lived and were on their way to the center of town.

“Do you want to come with us?” Madi handed her candy basket to Clarke and then held up her other hand for Lexa to take.

Lexa was tempted, but she needed to do something first. She had been heading to the Sanderson Cottage, her yearly pilgrimage. She wasn’t sure why, but the pull was even stronger this year, and by the way Raven was starting to rub against her legs, she knew the cat was anxious to get going also.

“I would love to, but I’m actually on my way somewhere. Unless you want to come with me?” She grabbed Madi’s hand and looked expectantly at Madi and then Clarke.

“Ok!” Madi grinned and swung their arms, deciding for them. She pulled on their arms, turning back the way they had come and then looked up at Lexa, waiting for direction.

“Oh look! Your cat!”

Lexa turned and saw Raven ten feet ahead of them, standing in the sidewalk, tail twitching, clearly waiting for them to follow her.

“Raven isn’t actually my cat. She only belongs to herself.” Lexa pointed towards her. “Every year we visit the Sanderson Cottage. She knows the way.”

“Oh I heard about the cottage, but don’t really know the history. I heard there is a curse involved?”

Lexa nodded slowly at Clarke and then looked down at Madi, wondering how much to tell them.

“The Sanderson Sisters were witches: Nia was the oldest and the meanest, and Anya and Echo were twins, but they didn’t look exactly alike. They say though that there were more children, children who died mister-mishteriously.”

“Mysteriously,” Lexa corrected as she stared down in surprise at Madi. “How did you know that?”

Madi shrugged, “I’m not good at reading. I don’t like it, but mama gets me the audible books from the library so I can listen to them. And I like misherteries.”

Clarke smiled, “She has almost perfect recall. She can quote back almost anything once she had heard it once or maybe twice. She likes mysteries. She was really excited to move here.”

“You are from…”

“Los Angeles. We moved here in August.”

They walked along slowly, the houses slowly falling away in the distance until they finally reached their destination. It was a medium sized cottage, only two, open rooms with a partially open loft that ran the entire area of the cottage.

The weeds had grown up around it, and Lexa frowned, wondering why the gardener hadn’t been out to clear out the dying shrubbery. She shivered a little, staring at the front door, her fingers itching to grasp it and open it.

Raven had settled on a windowsill waiting patiently for Lexa to decide.

“It’s a little spooky.”

Lexa glanced at Clarke watching the way the blonde fidgeted, biting her lip, before she straightened her shoulders and puffed her chest out a little.

“Let’s go in. It will be fun.”

She was surprised the blonde wanted to go in, sure the younger girl was a little scared of it. She looked down at Madi who was staring intently at Raven, her brows furrowed.

“Ok,” she heard herself say before she had even thought of it. She dug into her pocket for the key and dropped Madi’s hand, approaching the door. It took a minutes of jiggling the old iron skeleton key before it finally clicked and the door opened with a small squeak.

Chapter 2: 

They stepped into the large room, Lexa frowning again at the cobwebs. The museum had been closed for repairs for the last two years, but Lexa had assumed someone was at least cleaning everything. But she could see the dust coating almost everything, cobwebs in the nooks and crannies. She flicked the lights on, and the lights pinged and flickered before finally settling.

Clarke stepped inside, pleased that the lights at least worked. The room was full of items, many of them books. A table and chairs, a large cauldron. She rolled her eyes at that, sure it had been placed there for the benefit of the tourists. Witches weren’t an actual thing.

But there was a large book on a pedestal, a glass box covering it. She glanced down at it, wrapping her fingers around the edges of the pedestal.

“Wow...so they actually put a spellbook in here?” She chuckled and laughed, “bet the tourists love that.”

Lexa grumbled a little and moved further into the room, trailing her fingers through the dust. “It’s real. The sisters are real, and so is the spellbook.”

Clarke looked up, surprised at the tone in Lexa’s voice. “Sorry,” she muttered.

Lexa shrugged and sighed a little, “No, I’m sorry. The Sanderson Sisters are actually part of my family history. They were my great-great-great-great...well, a lot of great aunts. My family owns the cottage and museum.”

Clarke nodded and walked around the room, checking briefly on Madi who was sitting in one of the old chairs at the table, patting Raven who was sitting on the table purring to her heart’s content.

She stopped in front of a tall, thin metal handle holder. In it sat a pristine, fat black candle, the wick unburnt. It was the only thing that didn’t have a layer of dust on it. She frowned and stared at it. There were numerous candles scattered around the room, most of them a whitish, yellow, wicks partially burnt. This was the only black one, never burnt.

“Lexa, what is this?”

Lexa glanced up from where she was reading one of the books written in the late 1800’s that spun the tale of the Sanderson Sisters.

She set the book down and walked up to Clarke, their shoulders brushing each other. “It is the curse.”

Raven stopped purring.

“How does it go?”

Lexa said nothing for a moment, before spinning the tale she had heard from her mother as a child. “The Sanderson Sisters were born in the mid 1600’s, witches. Real witches. Not women that were simply independent and used herbs and such to heal people. They weren’t like the innocent women in the Salem Witch Trials.”

She shook her head, reaching out as if to touch the candle before snatching her hand back away. “They were real,” she murmured. “Like Madi said, Nia was the oldest. By twelve years. Their parents were farmers, but Nia...Nia was different. She had a cruel streak. After Nia was born, legend has it that three boys were also born, and they all died mysteriously as babies. The oldest only living to be two or so. People whispered that Nia killed them.”

“B-but, that would have meant she was a child too.” Clarke gaped at Lexa and shook her head, sure it wasn’t true.

“Yeah. Exactly. But then Anya and Echo were born. Twins, and they say they never cried. And they didn’t look like each other, which was unusual. I mean it isn’t unusual now. We know they were fraternal twins, but back then I guess fraternal twins only happened when a boy and girl were born, not twin boys or twin girls.” She shrugged again and crossed her arms looking around the room.

“Anyway, the girls were born and were inseparable. Echo almost drowned twice, but each time, Anya saved her. And they said that Anya was badly burned once on her hands, like..really bad. But somehow Echo healed her? I don’t really know. That part of the story isn’t well known, and there aren’t a lot of sources. Just a few diaries really.”

She rubbed her hands across her face, needing something to do with them, unsure why re-telling the story she’d told her friends a hundred times, suddenly was hard to do. It felt different, telling the story on Halloween in the cottage. Different, because Clarke and Madi were there. Different because Raven was just a cat, and yet, she swore sometimes Raven stared at her so intently, that Lexa was sure she would open her mouth and speak.

“Stuff happened. The girl all grew up, and if people angered them, suddenly their hogs would die, their kids get sick, the rain wouldn’t come. So the townspeople started to pay them tribute. Like give them money when they had it, give them their sheep and cows. They sold potions and stuff, stuff to heal people, and I guess it worked.”

“And then the kids went missing.”

Lexa and Clarke both jumped, turning around to stare at Madi who was sitting at the table, sorting her candy not looking at either of them as she continued. “Kids started going missing, and the sisters never aged. They should have aged, but they didn’t. So people began to suspect that the sisters were somehow living off the children. Like sucking them up.”

Lexa nodded slowly, “Yeah. That’s it exactly. Every few years a child or two would disappear. Until they took the wrong child.” She turned back to the candle, staring at it, imagining what it would look like lit.

“Which child?”

She jumped and her laugh quivered in her throat. “Aden. Aden Walker. They took Aden when he was only five years old. Lured him from his father’s house. Aden was said to be a strange child. He never spoke,” she muttered. His father was Finn Walker, but he was also called Aden Woods.”

Lexa stopped, surprised at what she had just said. She didn’t remember where she had read that Aden had also been called Aden Woods. She’d been obsessed with her family history when she was younger, and she had spent hours reading and researching the Sanderson line. She vaguely recalled the name Aden Woods in the genealogy and wondered if she had confused the two. There had been an Aden Woods in the 1600’s, but he couldn’t have also been Aden Walker, because Aden Walker had died as a child.

“No one knew who the mother was. He was delivered to his father’s doorstep when he was about two years old. Or something like that.”

“Maybe he wasn’t Aden’s father. Maybe he was just supposed to protect Aden.”

Clarke turned and stared at Madi before walking over to her and resting her hand on her head. “Why would you say that, Madi?”

Madi shrugged and went back to sorting her candy. She knew she’d had kit kat bars, but now they were all gone. She wrinkled her nose and stared at the small candy bars in her hand. The wrapping was red, and they were nut and dairy and gluten and soy free, and egg free. But they actually tasted good. But she knew she’d had kit-kats! She sighed and went back to sorting.

Clarke looked around the room, noting the dust and cobwebs, the almost haphazard piles of what looked like blankets or clothes in one corner, dried lumber and a toolbox in another corner. Obviously someone had been working on the cottage.

She walked back towards Lexa, “So what happened then?”

“He disappeared. Dead they say. Someone saw him die, I guess and ran back to tell the townspeople. The came in the dead of the night and captured the sisters in the middle of doing a spell to gain their immortality. They hung them. Right outside the cottage from the tall sycamore tree.”

Lexa said nothing for long moments, staring at the candle, her mind tumbling. History hadn’t recorded who it was that had witnessed Aden’s death and then run and gathered the townspeople and brought them back here. And that was odd, because history had recorded the events of the night in detail, even recording the names of the townspeople. The Blakes and Kanes had been present that night, the Millers and Monroes. Even the rest of the Sandersons had been there that night. They had even recorded the strange spell and ritual the sisters had enacted to suck the life out of young Aden Woods, but still...no one recorded who it was that had witnessed it all.

Clarke waited, giving Lexa a few moments to think about it. Whatever had happened here obviously meant something to Lexa, her family was tied to it. But it was still all legend. The sisters had probably existed, but they had probably been three women, refusing to conform and bow to the patriarchy like most women accused of witches. And they’d been murdered by the men of the town.

She pressed her shoulder against Lexa’s gently, taking a deep breath and brushing her fingers against Lexa’s. “Lex? What happened then?”

Lexa jumped a little, her fingers wrapping around Clarke’s. She squeezed and intertwined their fingers together, smiling down at Clarke, suddenly feeling lighter. “With her dying breath, Nia cast a curse, claiming that any virgin who lit the black candle on Hallow’s Eve, or Halloween night when the moon is full, will resurrect them again.”

“And?”

Lexa shrugged. “That’s it.”

“Sooo...no one has ever tried to light the candle?” She nodded towards the candle. “This is a new candle, no way it is from the 1600’s.” She laughed and dug into her pants pocket, pulling out her lucky lighter, the one her grandfather had given her. He’d been a young pilot during World War II and had given her the lighter, claiming it had saved his life when he’d been shot down over Nazi-occupied France.

She flicked the lighter and smirked a little, hoping to dispel the gloom sitting heavily in the room. “Come on, let’s light it, and see if the curse is real,” she wiggled her eyebrows. “Stories are just stories, but we should light it anyway.”

She held out the lighter to Lexa who shook her head and smirked back at her. “Sorry, Clarke, but that ship sailed this summer.”

“Oh.” She ducked her eyes, trying not to look as embarrassed as she could felt. Of course Lexa wouldn’t be a virgin, of course she was dating someone! She suddenly didn’t want to light the candle anymore, didn’t want to be in the cottage, and didn’t want to be near Lexa.

“She’s gone now. Costia. She and her parents moved away. We were better friends than girlfriends anyway.”

Clarke jerked up, color flooding her face again, but she couldn’t stop the smile that practically split her face in two. “So...no girlfriend?”

“Nope. You?”

“Nope. No boyfriend or girlfriend.”

Lexa nodded, already having suspected that Clarke was bisexual. The girl did have a patch on her backpack with the bisexual flag after all. And she had a rainbow sticker on her locker.

“You should kiss.”

Clarke choked on her saliva, face flaming, as she whirled around to gape at Madi who was staring intently at them both.

“Wh-what?”

“Isn’t that what people do when they like each other? It’s what you did with that boy Finn last year. That was a lot of kissy-face.” Madi wrinkled her nose. Finn had been ok, mostly. But she didn’t like the way that he always wanted to spend time with Clarke, demanding that Clarke stop spending time with her, and with him instead.

“Kissy-face eh?”

Clarke groaned a little under her breath. “Yeah, he was just a boy. I broke up with him before we moved.” She shrugged. “He was kind of annoying actually.” She laughed and looked over at Madi, well aware that Madi hadn’t really liked him.

“Yup. Annoying.” The girl unwrapped a piece of chocolate and popped it into her mouth, smiling as the sweet hit her tongue. She swung her legs back and forth looking around her.

“Are we going to get more candy?”

“Yeah, kiddo, we are,” answered Lexa as she turned towards Clarke. She shrugged, “light it if you want, but we should go.” She leaned in closer to Clarke, only inches away, her eyes searching Clarke’s.

“You know, part of the legend goes that when a virgin lights the candle, she should be kissed at the same time.”

Clarke bit her lip, looking up at Lexa from under her eyelashes. “Oh, really? Does it now?”

Lexa smiled and leaned in closer, daring Clarke. “Does it matter?”

“No.” Clarke flicked the lighter, the flame springing to life, and she reached over and lit the wick of the black candle, just as Lexa pressed her mouth to her’s.

***************************************

It was a moment before she realized that something had crashed loudly outside, the wind suddenly picking up and roaring through the trees. The house shook, and for a moment, she was sure it was because of their kiss.

But as she pulled back, she saw the cauldron lit with fire, the flame from the candle black as night and growing higher and higher. Raven was howling, and Madi screamed, jumping up and knocking over her chair with a loud crash, as she ran and threw herself at Clarke and Lexa.

Lexa scooped her up, Madi’s little legs fastening securely about her waist. She grabbed Clarke and pulled her back and behind her, stepping away from the candle. The light suddenly went out, and Raven howled again, the wind shaking the cottage. Books fell from the shelves, and the fire beneath the cauldron spit in angry time to the shaking of the house.

“Fuck! Fuck, Lexa! What is happening!?” Clarke grabbed at Lexa’s arm, pulling her with her, terror licking along her nerves. It was a myth, a legend, a stupid scary tale that they told to kids to scare them. But the lit candle’s flame was black, and it towered above them, almost reaching towards the ceiling now, but it gave off no heat, only a freezing cold slowly drifting through the air.

The lights were out, and they could barely see, and Clarke stumbled, her fingers gripping Lexa’s arm, refusing to let go, relieved that Lexa was carrying Madi, as she was the stronger of the two of them.

“Shit, Clarke! I don’t know. I don’t know! We have to get out now!” She pulled Clarke towards her and circled around the candle, staring in horror when she realized that the glass case covering the spellbook had been shattered, and the pages of the book were fluttering madly in the wind. Except…

“Lexa, how is that possible. There isn’t any wind in here?”

Lexa shook her head, her heart pounding in her ears, her skin hot to Clarke’s touch, but felt icy to her own. She could feel the temperature dropping. She tried to make her way to the wall, and with every step they took, a new candle suddenly flamed to life, blinding them only to suddenly burn out again.

“I can’t see, Clarke! Clarke!”

Clarke reached up, her hand scraping along Madi’s head, trying to soothe the wailing child. “It’s ok, Madi. It’s ok, we are getting it out.”

“Lexa, which way?” She was disoriented from the flashing candles, and the cold that was seeping into her bones, making her tired and dizzy. She fought to place one foot in front of the other, wondering why her movements were so sluggish.

“This way! Hurry! This way!” She heard the voice off to her left, and she tried to make her way towards the voice, pulling Lexa with her.

“Stop! No, move to your left, back! Back!”

She followed the voice, obeying their every direction, until she was able to get around the table, stumbling against the pile of lumber.

“The door. It’s right in front of you. Hurry!”

“Lex, this way!” She tightened her hold on Lexa and surged forward the remaining steps, her hand reaching out blindly for the handle. She closed her hand around it, and she pulled, struggling with the door as it refused to budge.

“Push it!” The voice hissed again. And Clarke threw her weight against the door, gasping as she and Lexa and Madi tumbled through the door, tripping down the wooden steps to land in a heap in front of the cottage.

They lay there breathing heavily, their hearts racing and limbs trembling. The cottage was suddenly quiet, all of the lights off, the candles blown out. The wind outside had died down, and they could hear mice rustling through the leaves under the trees.

“Wh-what was that?!”

“Madi! Madi, are you ok?”

“I’m ok.”

“Clarke?”

“Yeah.”

Lexa sat up, pulling herself to her knees and then to her feet. She swayed slightly, relieved when Clarke wrapped her hands around her waist to steady her, before leaning forward and sliding her arms fully around Lexa’s waist. She leaned her head against the back of Lexa’s shoulders, trying to regain control of her breathing.

Madi scrambled to her feet, lifting her arms to Lexa, who immediately picked her up again. She was probably too old to be held like this, but she didn’t care. She was afraid. They had done something. Something bad. Something was awake.

Clarke loosened her grip around Lexa’s waist and slid her hands up Madi’s legs, squeezing them gently.

“You sure, you ok, Madi?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok.” She nodded and pulled away, stepping around them both to look at the cottage, before turning back towards Lexa.

“Lexa…”

“Who were you talking to?”

“Wait. What?” Clarke looked at Lexa, surprise on her face. ‘What do you mean who was I talking to?”

“In the cottage. Who led you out?”

Clarke stared at her for a full minute, her heart dropping to her feet. “Lexa,” She stepped closer, her words somber and heavy. “You. Lexa, you led me out.”

“No, Clarke,” Lexa shook her head and wiggled her arms, readjusting Madi who still clung to her. “No, I was to your right, and that voice came from your left. I followed you, Clarke.”

“L-Lexa, I...I don’t...I followed…”

“Me. You followed me.”

They both froze and turned slowly to face the cottage again.

Raven sat on the front step calmly licking her front paw, before gracefully jumping down the few steps to pad over to them and sit a couple of feet in front of them. She tilted her head back and stared at the three of them. It had been done. Finally. She had waited centuries for this night.

She had always known that the Griffins would return to Salem, having fled it the same night that young Aden Walker had supposedly met his end. Salem had a way of drawing the original families back, especially those with magic in their blood.

And nowhere was the more magic in Salem than in the three who stood before her: a Griffin and the true Sangedakru. Except...She peered over her shoulder, her body tense, the cottage was quiet, too quiet. She knew they were in there, waiting like the predators they were. They didn’t have much time.

“Listen, I realize this is a lot to take in…”

“Oh my god! The cat is talking! The cat is talking! Why is the cat talking!?” Clare turned to Lexa who simply stood there, looking more than a little bewildered, her jaw hanging open, her eyes wide.

“Cool! A talking cat!”

Clarke focused her attention on the squealing Madi. “No, not cool! This is bad, Madi! Oh..god...it’s the candy!”

Clarke grabbed Lexa jerking her around, terror coloring each word as she grabbed at Madi, trying to pull her into her arms. “It’s the candy, Lexa! It’s been poisoned, by...by...I...a...hallucogenic! Oh my god! Shit! Shit! We have to get her to my mom, she will know!”

Lexa simply stared at Raven, her mind buzzing. “C-candy?”

“Yes, I ate the kit kats!”

“I knew it!” crowed Madi, earning a wild glare from Clarke, who had finally managed to pull Madi from Lexa’s arms. She wrapped both her arms around Madi and turned headed towards the long paved road back to town.

“It’s ok, Madi. It will be fine, don’t be scared.” But the words felt useless, and she could feel her own panic bubbling up about to spill over.

“I didn’t eat the candy,” whispered Lexa, before finally turning and jumping after Clarke. It only took a couple of steps before she caught her, grabbing her gently by her arms and pulling her back into her own body. She turned her, unprepared for the sobs that suddenly jerked Clarke’s entire body, or the way the blonde almost entirely collapsed into her arms.

Madi wiggled, unable to slip out of Clarke’s hold, now squashed between two bigger bodies. She tried to crane her head around Clarke’s so she could see Raven. Raven who talked, when she shouldn’t. She always knew magic was real.

“It’s ok, Clarke. It’s ok,” murmured Lexa as she ran her hands up and down Clarke’s back. “I didn’t eat the candy, and I hear Raven to. It’s ok. We aren’t hallucinating.” She sighed and gulped. “This is real.”

Clarke sniffed, Lexa’s words finally piercing her growing panic. Her sobs slowly subsided, and she finally stepped back a little, and Lexa carefully prided Madi from her arms, setting her on her feet, keeping one arm around her tightly.

Clarke laughed, tears drying on her cheeks. “Better? Oh god, Lex. How is that better? Could it be real?”

All three of them turned to Raven who hadn’t moved, but was clearly unimpressed. “Are you three done? Because we are almost out of time.” She stalked forward, her eyes intent upon Clarke, her tail flicking with every step.

“Listen. My name is Raven Birch. I was born in 1667, here in Salem. And I was turned into a cat on the night the townspeople of Salem hung the three Sanderson Sisters. With her dying breath, Nia Sanderson cast a curse promising that they would rise again when a virgin lit the black candle under a full moon on Halloween. The sisters have risen, and we have go. Now.”

“B-but...you can talk,” sputtered Clarke.

“Yes, oh smart one, I can.”

“Oh my god. Did she just sass me?” Clarke turned towards Lexa, her mouth open, hands on her hips, only to see Lexa trying not to laugh. “Really? You think it’s funny that a talking cat just sassed me?!”

Madi laughed and grabbed Clarke’s hand, pulling on it. “Come on, Clarke. It is kind of funny.”

Clarke huffed and rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to Raven. “Fine. You can talk. Look…”

But Lexa interrupted her, stepping forward and crouching down near Raven, “Could you always talk? And I just didn’t hear you?”

Raven smiled as only a cat can and stepped closer, rubbing against Lexa’s knee. “No, Lexa. I was always aware of who I was, but I couldn’t speak until the candle was lit.” She sat down and peered up at Lexa, her voice soft and gravelly, breaking a little “I’ve waited so long for this night, but we do have to go now, I will tell you the rest of what happened that night.”

“Well, well, well. And what do we have here.”

All three of them froze at the sound of the voice, before Raven turned quickly, crouching slightly, tail flicking wildly. She hissed and bared her fangs at the three figures standing in front of them.

“Well, well, Raven. It has been a long time. But how long exactly? Hmmmm?”

Lexa grabbed Clarke, who had already grabbed Madi, pulling them behind her. This was bad, very bad, because she recognized them from the sketches and paintings that had been done.

“It’s the sisters,” she whispered, throat tight with fear.

“Oh very good! Very good!”

The woman with reddish brown hair stepped forward and off the stoop, advancing on them slowly before stopping five feet from them. Her face was heavily scarred, but Lexa quickly realized that the scars were symbols and not random, and they were almost beautiful in a twisted way. The woman was thin, wearing a dark gray cloak, over a blue dress that obviously had gone out of fashion hundreds of years ago. Her eyes were ice blue and her chin sharp and haughty. She was clearly the one with the most power.

The woman to her left was taller with dark eyes and long brown hair tumbling about her shoulders in waves. She too wore a dress, long out of fashion, and leather shoes with buckles. Her cloak was dark green and clasped at the neck with, a large copper button. She grinned, her lips twisting, making her beautiful face all the more chilling.

And the last woman was taller than the rest, lithe and almost gangly. She wore what looked like a crown of interwoven branches upon her head, and her hair was long and brown with flashes of yellow in it. But it was her eyes, rimmed in what looked like charcoal with streaks spreading partly down her face that were the most startling. She wore trousers and leather boots, with a long coat studded with what looked like metal pieces.

“The sisters,” croaked Lexa.

Nia laughed and waved her hand and the woman to her left stepped forward giving a little curtsey, before smiling and licking her lips and stepping further away from Nia, circling closer to Lexa and Clarke.

Raven hissed when the woman moved, and she hissed back, her lips twisting into a sneer. “We meet again, Raven. You were always annoying.” She raised her hand, fingers extended towards Raven who backed up a step, just as the third woman stepped forward.

“Enough! We don’t have time for this,” She cast a quick glance down at the cat who was still staring at her sisters, but she knew Raven was watching her out of the corner of her eye. “Leave Raven be, we have no quarrel with this cat.”

“No, quarrel??” snarled Nia, “she is the one who brought them to our door!”

“Yes, and you cursed her and she paid her debt to you. It is finished.”

Nia stepped back and eyed her younger sister, her brows pulled low, her lips pursed slightly. It would appear that time had not brought her sister to her senses.

She stepped towards Lexa, smiling and holding out her hand. “So, you apparently know of us? Hmmm?”

Lexa swallowed harshly and nodded. “You are Nia,” she jerked her head towards the woman in the green cloak, “that would make you Echo, the youngest twin.” She pointed towards the last woman, the one with the crown. “And I guess that makes you Anya, the first twin.”

Nia laughed and nodded her head, while Echo clapped her hands and twirled in place. “So you recognize us!” She flicked her hand in the air, “We are rather unforgettable. But enough of that,” she flicked her hand in the air again, slowly letting her gaze roam over the three of them. “Tell me, what exactly are you wearing? Is it common for girls to wear pants? You are girls? Right?”

“Not that it matters, and gender is a social construct anyway, but yes,” hugged Clarke in annoyance.

“A gender..what?” Nia cocked her head, confusion wrinkling her face and making the scars jump slightly. “Oh never mind. That isn’t important. What year is it? How long have we been gone?”

“It is 2018,” chirped Madi, as she shifted out from behind Clarke, her curiosity getting the best of her.

“It’s...it’s...2018?!” sputtered Nia as she raised a hand and rubbed at her forehead, sighing deeply. “Well no matter.” She turned her attention to Madi, a slow smile breaking across her face, twisting her lips and highlighting her scars. She leaned down a little, while Raven spit at her.

“Aren’t you a beautiful, little thing.” She reached out towards Madi, as Echo stepped closer, her gaze intent upon Madi also.

“Look at her, Nia! So small and delicate! So...yummy,” Echo murmured, excitement spilling from her mouth as she licked her lips.

Clarke and Lexa both grabbed at Madi just as Nia and Echo suddenly rushed forward. Raven yowled and threw herself at Echo, who had managed to beat Nia to Madi, claws extended. Raven yowled again when her claws dug into Echo’s shoulders, her teeth catching Echol’s ear as she bit down.

Echo screamed and backed away, jumping up and down, grabbing at Raven and trying to pull her off of her. But her hands couldn’t find purchase in Raven’s twisting body, and the cat started to slash at her shoulder, ripping through the cloak.

Nia stumbled, falling to the ground when Echo had shouldered her out of the way. She cursed and held out her hands, fingers sparking, but she was too weak to draw her power from the spellbook.

Anya crouched slightly, her hand going to her hip, where a long dagger rested, bound to her waist with leather cords. But she didn’t move, her gaze darting between Nia and Raven clawing at her sister.

Echo finally managed to get hold of Raven, and pulled hard, screaming as Raven bit at her head and scratched her across her forehead. Echo screamed and cursed again, finally throwing Raven from her.

Echo bent over, angry tears coursing down her face, her hands gingerly poking at the scratches on her head and forehead. “Damn that cat to hades!” She snarled as she whimpered at the pain and the sight of the blood on her fingers.

Raven landed on her feet, twirling quickly and facing the sisters again. “Run!” She spat and hissed raising her clawed paw.

And this time Lexa and Clarke ran, Madi safely ensconced in Lexa’s arms as they tore down the paved road as fast as they could back to down, Raven right behind them.

[mimelord1]

Muhammad Alis Grandson Says He Wouldve Loved Conor McGregor His Trash Talk

Muhammad Ali’s Grandson Says He Would’ve Loved Conor McGregor, His Trash Talk https://ift.tt/RauVJoc Play video content TMZSports.com How would Muhammad Ali, the undisputed OG of trash talk, feel about the slick-talking/fighting Conor McGregor?? He would’ve loved him … so says The Greatest’s grandson, MMA fighter Biaggio Ali Walsh. 24-year-old Ali Walsh, who recently signed with one of the top MMA promotions, PFL, tells TMZ Sports his grandpa wouldn’t just have enjoyed mixed martial arts, he would’ve been a big fan of The Notorious! “I think [my grandfather] would’ve loved it, especially when McGregor was in featherweight in UFC, when he fought [Jose] Aldo, that whole reign, he would’ve loved it, especially Conor’s trash talk,” Ali Walsh says. “Poppy started the trash talk. He would’ve been super entertained. I think he really would’ve liked the sport.” Of course, Muhammad wasn’t just known for his supernatural ability in the squared circle … but also for his incredibly sharp tongue. Ali made talkin’ trash cool … and though Conor may be a bit more vulgar, they’re very much alike from the standpoint of getting inside their opponent’s head. Like his grandfather, Ali Walsh is a fighter … but instead of choosing boxing like his brother Nico, he chose MMA. Biaggio is new in the sport … and has a 1-1 record as an amateur. He lost his first fight, but rebounded in his second fight, winning by first-round TKO. Ali-Walsh will make his Professional Fighters League debut on November 25 … and fittingly, it’s going down at Madison Square Garden. Of course, MSG was the site of many of Ali’s legendary fights … including the “Fight of the Century,” Muhammad Ali vs. Joe Frazier I on March 8, 1971. We asked Biaggio about fighting under the same roof as grandpa … and while he thinks it’s pretty neat, he was honest in saying it’s not a huge deal. “I think it’s cool but at the end of the day, a fight’s a fight. It’s me, the ref, and another guy who’s trying to hurt me, whether it’s Madison Square Garden or in the back of someone’s barnyard. It’s cool that it’s at Madison Square Garden but I don’t care, honestly.” Considering Biaggio clearly has fighting in his blood, we had to ask how his grandpa would’ve fared as an MMA fighter. “I think he would’ve done great just because of how strong he was mentally. A lot of it is mental, a lot of fighting is mental and he had the mental part. He had the heart and he had the will, so if you have the will, you can definitely get the skill.” Excuse us while we daydream over a Muhammad Ali-Francis Ngannou dream fight. The post Muhammad Ali’s Grandson Says He Would’ve Loved Conor McGregor, His Trash Talk first appeared on Suave Media. Tags and categories: Uncategorized via WordPress https://ift.tt/ou1BPmx October 15, 2022 at 08:40AM

[skyerie]

OC Tag Game :D

Tagged by @oxygenforthewicked

thank you!

I do plan on doing my other Inquisitor OC eventually, I’ve just been focused on this one lol~

Leilani Lavellan, everyone~

THE BASICS:

Character’s name: Leilani Mirwen Lavellan

Role in story: Inquisitor (in Never Again)

Physical description: Caramel skin, black wavy hair. Snapping violet eyes. During the first half of Never Again, she bears a vallaslin of Mythal that only those of Mythal’s priesthood has – a vallaslin of pure white that, unlike other vallaslin, curls a little in several places. Mythal’s branches also decorate her body in a slightly darker ink than her skin tone.

She is fairly muscled.

Age: About 2,60-ish years old, give a couple decades or so. She doesn’t really know her own birthday.

MBTI/Enneagram Personality Type: INTJ-T/7w8

Description: Architect (INTJ) is a person with the Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Judging personality traits. These thoughtful tacticians love perfecting the details of life, applying creativity and rationality to everything they do. Their inner world is often a private, complex one.

Description: 7s are rather independent beings and do not appreciate restrictions or being told what to do. They need freedom, variety and multiple options both in their work and personal lives. 7s can become evasive, egocentric, disengaged, compulsive, erratic, and agitated.

(please not that this is not a full description of 7w8.)

INTERNAL LIFE:

What is their greatest fear? That she’ll be exactly like her mother and father – uncaring, unfeeling leaders of a society that had the world at their whim. That some things in her life are too great.

Inner motivation: The world should become better than it was.

Kryptonite: People in need.

What is their misbelief about the world?

That it’s her against the world.

Lesson they need to learn:

To show that she actually cares and not try to act like other things outside of her personal space doesn’t affect her.

What is the best thing in their life?

Dorian, Josie, Giselle, Cole, and Solas.

What is the worst thing in their life?

Currently, it’s Corypheus.

What do they most often look down on people for?

For not understanding certain things that she does. She forgets they’re not immortal, like her.

What makes his/her/their heart feel alive?

Talking about magic or anything to do with theories. Using magic. Using a sword. Using a needle.

What makes them feel loved, and who was the last person to make them feel that way?

…something done with love. Solas, as of right then.

Top three things they value most in life?

The people she considers hers, the freedom she has now, and a little weird spider-monster her father gave her as a pet.

EXTERNAL LIFE:

Is there an object they can’t bear to part with and why?

A necklace, given to her by Andraste, who got it from Shartan. While she attempts to give it to her grandson for safekeeping, it’s the one thing she won’t leave behind, no matter what. She loved Andraste and Shartan.

Describe a typical outfit for them from top to bottom.

On a typical, casual day in the Inquisition?

From the top: Hair usually in either a ponytail, bun, or braid, usually with something nice stabbed through it or with a hint of glitter. Her face is usually devoid of makeup, though she does wear earrings every single day – usually studs, though on occasion she does wear dangly earrings. Usually a necklace, but never any kind of choker.

Casual clothing: Long-sleeved, plain tunic, no matter the day. Trousers or skirts, paired with sturdy boots.

Formal occasions (such as meetings with a lord, or an important person): Long-sleeved, embroidered tunic, typically with the addition of some kind of armor. Her leggings and skirts are given to breeches for fluidity of movement. Addition of heeled boots.

In battle: Enchanter’s robes with hood, due to the fact that someone in the past mentioned how ‘creepy’ it was to see her eyes glow whilst she was using magic. Underneath the robes, she wears plain armor, choosing not to embellish with any kind of sigil. Sturdy boots.

What names or nicknames has they been called throughout their life?

(given that she’s two thousand years old, going with her known ones)

Ashara, her birth name.

Rasa, the name given to her when she was under Mythal’s army.

Storm-bringer.

Andrale.

Murderess.

Leilani, given to her by Andraste herself.

What is their method of manipulation?

…threats and power.

While Leilani never actually means to manipulate, she ends up doing it by not breaking her promises, which are usually implied threats.

Also, given that she’s the daughter of a pseudo-deity, she manages to actually succeed in most cases because she inherited both of her parents’ inclination of terrifying, deadly wrath.

Describe their daily routine:

(describing daily routine when she’s at Skyhold)

Gets up, gets cleaned up, goes to work with the Inquisition, goes around the keep giving a tiny helping hand, helps the templars improve, visits Solas and/or Dorian, eats dinner (or forgets to eat), stretches in her little corner in the courtyard as the night makes the keep go quiet, goes to bed to do it all over again.

Their go-to cure for a bad day?

Curling up alone in her room, either with a good book or in bed. Sometimes Cole comes by when she needs silence but with company. She likes Cole’s company. Alcohol was one of her many coping mechanisms as well.

GOALS:

How are they dissatisfied with their life?

She’s conflicted, and she hates being conflicted. She’s also in charge of a giant organization all looking to her, and for her it’s a nightmare because she can control her own life to an extent, but when it comes to anyone else, she’s afraid that attempting to control them completely will make her like her mother. So she does try to steer herself away from that.

What would bring them true happiness or contentment?

Her dream for the future becoming a reality.

What definitive step could they take to turn their dream into a reality?

Somehow convincing everyone that her version of reality is a good one.

How has their fear kept them from taking this action already?

She doesn’t want to… take a choice away from anyone. Creating that world, while great, would also be problematic if people thought that their world was better.

Do they feel they can accomplish their goal while still steering clear of the thing they are afraid of?

To be honest? No. Whatever she does, it will have far-reaching consequences, and not everyone will understand. No matter what, she feels like if she managed to convince everyone her version is better, then she’ll become an exact copy of the people she’s trying to avoid becoming.

[crimsonrevolt]

Congratulations Claire you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Andromeda Tonks

↳ please refer to our character checklist

It is always so hard for the admins when we receive two apps for a character. Harder even when they are both truly fantastic apps. Your writing sample won us over and even made one of the admins teary. We feel like you have a strong voice for Andromeda and we’re excited to see her on the dash.

application beneath the cut 

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

Hi! I’m Claire. I’m 21, from central time zone (USA), and prefer she/her pronouns :)

ACTIVITY

A lot of this will depend on what assignments are due that week but I will likely hover around a 7. Wednesdays and Thursdays will be days I might only be able to check in briefly - but you will also have me almost full time Friday-Sunday so I can hopefully make up for that!

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

Well I technically found you through the tags, but I’ve been thinking about applying for awhile. I’ve been a member of a different group since about August and they closed recently - I didn’t think I could commit the time to two groups at once.

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

It might seem a little overdone, but I’ve always related to Lily Evans. My family relationships have always been similar, and my desire to be kind can often clash with a vindictive streak. I hope to someday be as forgiving and open to love as her.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Nothing in particular, I’m just very excited to join!

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER

Andromeda Tonks!

FACE CLAIM

Jenna Coleman is great!

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

Andromeda has honestly always been one of my favorite characters to write. I have adored exploring the dynamic she has with her sisters, the process of her discovering who she is and what she believes. I’m written Tedromeda from a number of different angles. Out of any of the characters in the Harry Potter series, Andromeda’s story is the one that is simultaneously the most intriguing and the most heartbreaking. She gave up so much when she left her family, but she also was so incredibly brave to escape the place she came from. She came out of an abusive situation with a narrow definition of who she could be, and grew into the person she wanted to be. She loved her sisters, she loved her husband, she loved her daughter. And when she had lost all of them, she loved her grandson enough to raise him.

However, I’ve always written a younger Andromeda - either in her Hogwarts years or soon after. I’ve never written her established in the wizarding world and already married. Its a new dynamic I would definitely love to explore.

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

I am Tedromeda trash obviously, but I also tend to be willing to explore chemistry. I’m written one Andromeda where she had a previous relationship with Rodolphus and another where she and Kingsley had feelings for each other.

I have always headcanoned her as demisexual and panromantic. She never gave much thought to love, romance, or sex when she was younger - since all of those things were laid out for her. She had a few minor instances of young love - a Beauxbaton girl she secretly dated one summer that her family spent in France, a kiss with an older boy in Hogsmeade her 5th year. She was in love with Ted before she even realized the way she saw him at begun to change. They were friends and then one day she realized they weren’t simply friends anymore.

She is already established in her relationship with Ted in this group, but I’d definitely like to explore how they got here. In terms of her own identity, she honestly isn’t sure - she doesn’t have the words for the asexual spectrum and she knows she would love Ted if he were any other gender. She uses she/her/hers pronouns.

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

Two lives of Andromeda aesthetic

Headcanons:

Music: Andromeda grew up as everything a pureblood daughter was expected to be. She spoke the proper languages, held herself the correct way, could waltz with the best of them. But most of all she was a breathtaking musician. She harbored a quiet hatred for everything else her parents had forced upon her, but she took to her piano lessons like she was born for it. To make up for the shame of loving something her parents had required, she’s also learned to play the violin, the guitar, and can sing along to the Beatles with the best of them. She composes her own music, though it is usually only for Nymphadora and Ted to hear. It’s something incredibly intimate to her, and there are few she would wish to share it with.

Assortment of playlists, tasks, and aesthetics from previous Andromedas:

Character Playlist

A playlist of music Ted might have given to Andromeda while they were at Hogwarts (all from before 1972, the latest year she might have been a student in canon)

Narcissa and Andromeda sister playlist

A Tedromeda flowershop au (this one was wild)

Tedromeda Eros and Psyche AU

Instagram AU

Boggart Drabble

Patronus Drabble

Rodolphus/Andromeda former relationship aesthetic

Regular old aesthetic

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it:

A potioneer at heart, a slight frown tugged at her lips as she ran through the different potions she had found useful before - and the instances where they had failed her. Hesitating, she considered her words. “I’d want a spell that could show you someone’s intentions - if they intend to do you harm. I know my family’s intentions were good in certain ways, but they nonetheless were intended to harm me as well. It can be difficult to know who to trust - with the right spell, maybe that would make times like this a little easier. I suppose the Latin would be voluntate revelio.”

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you:

A crease appeared between her brows as she considered the question. “As much as I would never want to see Ted in the Forest, I know there is no one else I would trust more to have my back. If it is the two of us together, than I know nothing will happen to either of us,” her eyes brightened at the thought, some of the tension relaxing from her shoulders. “I’d want to bring a portkey. If something went wrong, I’d like for us to have an easy way out.”

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?

She was quiet for a moment. “Anything that involves leaving Ted and Dora. It’s the hardest part of any mission - leaving them behind. Especially if I know Ted is has one too, and Dora has to stay with friends. At least if Ted is with her, I know she won’t be alone if something happens to me.” She couldn’t voice what she had begun to wonder - if she wouldn’t have to be so familiar with the feeling of leaving her daughter if she had stood by the Order.

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you?

“That I didn’t care,” she said, voice hard and eyes flashing. “I know there were assumptions people made about me when my last name was Black. But I saw the cruelty in that house more clearly than anyone. I lived through it and I gave up everything for it. I don’t regret it, of course,” she added hastily. “I’d do it all again a thousand times if it ended up here, with the life I have and love. But just because your family hurts you doesn’t mean you love them any less. I feel all of it. Too much sometimes.”

REACTION TO LAST EVENT DROP

It was the nightmare she had been having since she realized she was pregnant with Dora. She’d never questioned Aversio until her daughter. Before she had always been bloodthirsty in her dedication to the cause - willing to take whatever measures were necessary to ensure a safer world. But when Dora was born, she couldn’t help but wonder what the safety she was fighting for looked like. It certainly didn’t look like this. She couldn’t help but wonder if her involvement had only served to make the world more dangerous yet for her daughter.

WRITING SAMPLE

She took to gardening in her fifth year.

Daughters of the house of Black were not to get their hands dirty, and she could still remember being 7 years old when her mother had caught her playing in the garden outside their estate. She held back her cries at the too-tight grip on her wrists, dragging her to a washbasin. She was made to wash her hands until they were red and raw, her fingertips split.

But at 15 years and in the safety of the Hogwarts greenhouse, the soil seemed to soothe those old wounds. It had begun as part of her potions project, but she was alone in the warmth of the greenhouse. There were no parents or sisters to condemn what she was bringing into the world. She had always thought her hands could do nothing good, and there in the greenhouse they brought life - herbs that could sooth and heal.

That summer, when every bone in her body ached with the rejection of home, she lined the windowsill of her bedroom with little potted flowers. When the air became unbearably heavy and difficult to breathe, she sat on her bed and looked at her blooms. There was something rebellious in bringing life into the world where her parents demanded nothing.

At 17 years, she began to adorn her dorm with flowers. Her dueling wand just as quick and merciless, her talent for potions just as deadly. She was readying herself to leave, readying herself to fight. But she wanted to remind herself of the joy she was leaving it all for.

But on the days when she didn’t want to fight, didn’t want to carry the steel in her bones any longer, she went out into the greenhouse. The dirt under her nails no longer burned with the memories of old wounds - they soothed like the gentle touch of an old friend.

When she joined Aversio, she thought she had at last found a purpose - something that could redeem herself for the things her family had done and the shame of leaving them behind. She knew what she believed, knew who she loved, and she at last she could do something to keep them safe. Her wand hand never hesitated and her eye never flinched; so long as she did not think about the day she might cross wands with someone she had loved before she left.

Then Nymphadora was born.

Holding her in her arms, Andromeda wept. Overcome with love, she struggled to imagine how her family could do what they did; not if they had ever felt like this for even a moment. She would put down her wand forever if it meant she never had to leave her daughter’s side.

As much as she believed in the cause, the methods began to leave a sickly feeling in her gut. It was a warm spring day the first time Nymphadora joined her in the garden outside their house. Dora’s little hands planted lopsided flowers and their little leaves ended up crushed more often than not (Andromeda would wave her wand behind her, Nymphadora none the wiser that she hadn’t grown such beautiful blooms herself).

That evening she held her daughter’s wrists with a feather light touch, reverently cleaning away the dirt with an old cloth - slow enough that her daughter began to squirm with the energy of young children, eager for the next thing that had caught her eye.

She watched her daughter’s hair change from sky blue to the fluttering pink of the flowers outside, wringing the old cloth in her hand. The hands that held her daughter were the same that had destroyed so much, and it suddenly seemed abhorrent that they could be both.

She would die for her family and the cause. But on the days when the sunlight shone in Ted’s eyes or glittered off her daughter’s pink hair, her breath deserted her lungs. She had never wanted to live so badly. She wanted to know what Ted would look like when he grew old. She wanted to watch her daughter cross the stage at graduation. Maybe she could hold another little baby in her arms, as perfect as the first one they had made.

When she returned from missions, exhausted and breaking into a thousand questions, she took Nymphadora out into the garden and they planted their flowers. She couldn’t promise that everything would be okay, but on those days they could bring life back into the world in little ways. That could be rebellion enough.

[amorremanet]

@apolloniae Okay, first: skffghfk, omg wow, thank you!! That means a lot, especially since this passage is all still early-ish in the writing process for me (like… it’s not as early as the borderline stream of consciousness first-person POV stuff that I was writing with this project last summer, but it’s still fairly early), and I consider it pretty rough still

THAT SAID. omg, dialogue is actually something I both love and dread writing, because I never feel like I have the best gauge on how much is enough or if I’m shoving in too much exposition with it or what, but! I have a couple things I rely on

Not-so-fun secret first: that particular section might be a pretty early draft, but I’ve still revised it something like four times, from jotting the initial idea down longhand, through the different typed versions of this scene that I’ve written (which have gotten changed around pretty significantly), and revisions help a lot with dialogue, in my experience. They can be anything from small stuff like figuring out a better word order but mostly keeping things the same, to taking a really sketchy outline (e.g., “A says something about B’s shoes, B thinks A is being rude and what is up with that, and C is just happy to be here, why can’t we all get along” or full on snatches of dialogue, but written in a way that doesn’t fit the characters) and building the scene up from there. Either way, revisions are a writer’s friend.

But, okay. Speaking more generally: the best place to start is just getting familiar with dialogue, both in real life and in fiction. You really do need both of these influences to write dialogue, because getting more familiar with how people speak IRL can help your dialogue feel realistic — and in some cases, it can be really important to have that verisimilitude, e.g. when you’re writing a bilingual or multilingual character and don’t want to fall into some of the more tired, unrealistic tropes of how multilingualism can manifest in people’s speech; and when you’re writing a deaf character (disclaimer that I’m not deaf, and this fic isn’t the be-all and end-all of how to do this well, but I really like the portrayals of Steve and Clint in, “Trump Diet” by caloriebomb on AO3, and they’re pretty well-researched and well-written portrayals of deaf characters).

On the other hand, though, only listening to how people talk IRL isn’t enough. You can learn a lot from that, for sure — especially when it comes to things like how people present themselves from situation to situation, and how their speech patterns or word choices can change in different contexts (from full-fledged code-switching, to more simple things like swapping in child-friendly substitutes for swear words when you’re with your godkids/younger sibling/grandma/whoever) — but you also need to look at how different techniques for writing dialogue work or don’t in order to figure out how to best present the dialogue so that it helps tell your story.

Different writers also have different strengths that you can learn from, e.g. JKR is really good at blending summaries of things the audience already knows into new scenes (like Harry witnessing the, “Snape brings Remus his Wolfsbane Potion” scene, then immediately running and telling Ron and Hermione), vs. Neil Gaiman’s ability to make dialogue read as realistic and natural even while his characters are talking about patently non-realistic things like magic and whatnot (which I think especially comes out in American Gods, but I’m biased because I’ve been rereading it in honor of the TV series starting), vs. the way that the late, great Terry Pratchett had of really making the dialects, accents, and so on a part of his characters, rather than something pasted on (JKR can also be good at that, but sometimes she goes a bit overboard). So, reading as much as you can is good, and paying attention to how the different writers use dialogue will help you write your own.

Unfortunately, a lot of dialogue-writing ends up being a, “play it by ear” sort of thing. You can easily overdo it with flowery dialogue tags, or repeating, “said” too much. Having too much action between bits of dialogue can bog down the scene, but not having enough can make it feel like nothing’s happening while these people talk (plus, what characters do or not during a conversation can help characterize them as much as, or arguably more than, what they say and how they say it).

One of the biggest pitfalls for a lot of writers is that we put too much dialogue in, usually focusing on the parts of conversations that don’t do anything to help show who the characters are or tell the story. Like, unless your characters have a particularly unique way of saying, “hello” (and showing that to the audience helps establish the characters for us), or there’s something important about how they answer questions like, “Nice day, isn’t it?” (e.g., the, “Wonderful weather this morning” / “Yes, but I always carry an umbrella” exchange from CATFA, because it’s not actually about the weather, but is the password into the secret SSR laboratory), or, “How’re you doing?” (e.g., your character is someone who doesn’t actually respond to that question with some variation on, “Fine, and you?”), then there’s a lot of dialogue that you can probably skip.

However, it can sometimes be difficult to tell where the too much/not enough line is, once you get past that — which really just goes back to the, “Revisions are your friend and you shouldn’t be afraid of them. They don’t mean you’re a bad writer; they’re a part of making your work stronger and telling your stories in the best ways for them” point.

Finally, though, the best rule of thumb is just knowing your characters. Knowing at least a few baseline things about where your characters come from and how they present themselves are helpful for finding their voices and keeping true to it in different scenarios. A character who excessively tries to mold themself according to what other people want them to be, or who unconsciously mirrors those around them, probably won’t have the same speech patterns as a character who doesn’t give a fuck what other people think of them, or who might give a fuck but is too tired/upset/intoxicated/whatever to censor themself effectively. Characters’ upbringings and backgrounds can also come out in their dialogue, so being (more or less) clear on them can be helpful.

One pretty classic example of these ideas is the trope where someone who’s going about in unfamiliar circles may be able to emulate other people’s behaviors, pick up the common speech patterns, verbal tropes, and lingo pretty well, and so on…… but still has a particular verbal tic or cadence to their speech that they can’t shake.

For instance, my Sebastian, from that passage, grew up in a wealthy family that would be minor nobility if the U.S. acknowledged that we totally have a de facto system of nobility (and his paternal grandparents often make a big deal out of how they’re descended from a legit, “Our ancestors earned their title as knights in the service of the King of France before certain well-to-do members of the Third Estate started buying their way up into our ranks, back before the glorious Ancien Régime was even a Thing” noblesse d’épée bloodline). He’s been around folks from a mix of different backgrounds during his time in school, and more so in his adult life, which has involved a lot of hijinks in places that would make his Grandparents go, “Good Heavens, why are you slumming it with the lower classes” before focusing on the actual issues like,, “Why on Earth were you dating an ecoterrorist” and, “Oh dear, our grandson who wanted to join the priesthood when he was a boy seems to have developed a serious problem with opiates”

Like, real talk? Roland and Cecile love their grandchildren, they really do. But when Sebastian went to rehab, they tried to push for sending him to a ridiculously expensive inpatient clinic in California with a huge, pedigreed list of celebrity clients because they thought of it as Rich People Rehab. The explanation, “No, okay? If I’m doing this, then I’m going to this place in Minnesota that exclusively hosts LGBTQ clients because I really don’t feel like I’ll be helped by potentially being around homophobic fellow patients and/or staff”…… was mostly met with blank stares that were the human equivalent of the, “buffering… buffering…” spinning wheel of doom, and the response, “…But going there will put you in treatment with the common rabble, why on Earth would you want that.”

Thankfully, Abe and Marceline, Seb’s parents, were nowhere near this bad — but that classism and the emphasis on how We Are From A Distinguished, Noble Bloodline, So Act Like It were still part of the atmosphere that Seb and his siblings were raised in. Their experiences in schooling moderated it a bit (though less so for, say, eldest brother Max, who went to Posh Boarding School for all four years of high school, then did his undergrad at Columbia and grad school at Harvard), and Seb got a lot of moderation by learning the hard way that sounding too posh in a decidedly not-posh environment is a dead giveaway that you don’t belong there and might get you mistaken for a Federal agent. But it’s hard to completely shake that posh upbringing, and it comes out sometimes in his phrasing, his word choices, etc.

On the other hand, though, Seb is also a human disaster in ways that affect his speech (…and he’s multilingual, but that doesn’t fall under the heading of, “human disaster things”). The trick with those parts of him — like his anxiety and how it kicks into overdrive in certain situations (like, when he’s talking to Stephen, his sponsor’s curatorial assistant, who Seb is crushing on) — is finding a balance where it’s part of his characterization but also doesn’t get completely impossible to read (like the mistake that some people make when writing characters with stutters, where they overdo it to the point that you can’t tell what the characters are saying, but because the writers didn’t do this on purpose, you’re expected to know what’s being said).

Anyway, I’m sorry this got kind of long, but I hope it helps a bit! Dialogue can be tough to work on, but you can learn a lot from experimenting with different ideas and techniques, and just continuing to work on it, even when you hate what you’re writing. ❤️

[increflections-blog]

Ask the late tycoon John Gokonwei how he built his empire and this is what we’ll hear –

“John Gokongwei Jr was born wealthy, but he had to start from scratch after his family lost what they had. Here’s a look back on his journey to becoming one of the most beloved tycoons in the Philippines. Born of a wealthy Filipino-Chinese clan, one would think that John Gokongwei Jr had it easy growing up and effortlessly built one of the biggest conglomerates in the Philippines.

John was indeed born with a silver spoon, but it took great lengths to have it all back. Before dying at 93, he left the family with a multibillion-peso empire spanning food and real estate to banking and aviation.

The clan had all the wealth they could ask for, until the impact of the Great Depression in the 1920s hit the empire hard. Even before World War II reached Cebu, the family’s debt had already ballooned. Around this time Gokongwei Sr, unexpectedly died after receiving the wrong blood type during a blood transfusion. The impoverished John was split from his 5 other siblings and mother when they moved back to China. His father, known as the Cinema King of Cebu then, apparently left the family deep in debt. John’s family had all their properties taken away from them by banks.

From living in a stylish home, 15-year-old John became a market vendor. He sold peanuts and just whatever he could make money out of. Even with little cash, he allotted some to send to his family in China. He was eventually able to buy a bicycle which enabled him to sell goods in nearby towns. Hard work led to his capital growing. The end of the war and the subsequent rebuilding presented opportunities to Gokongwei and his once-rich relatives. John later went on to produce cornstarch, a basic raw material for beer, noodles, and paper. San Miguel Corporation, one of the oldest and largest corporations in the Philippines, was one of Gokongwei’s biggest customers. Over 3 decades, John and his siblings built Universal Robina Corporation (URC), named after his eldest daughter Robina.

URC would become the flagship company of the Gokongwei group. The company produces some of the most popular snacks today, like Chippy, Chiz Curls, Magic Flakes, and Taquitos.

To date, its total assets amount to a whopping P151.9 billion.”

[https://www.rappler.com/business/244577-how-john-gokongwei-jr-built-empire-selling-peanuts]

And how about the richest man in the Philippines Mr. Henry Sy?

“Henry Sy was born in the south-eastern Chinese city of Xiamen, in Fujian province. He immigrated to the Philippines at the age of 12 and started selling rice, sardines and soap at his father’s neighbourhood store in Manila in 1936.

The store was burned and looted during World War II so Sy was called on to sell goods to help the family survive, according to Sy-Coson, the eldest of his six children.

Following World War II, he sold shoes imported by US soldiers and set up a footwear store, providing him with the platform to later found ShoeMart, the nation’s largest chain and the first air-conditioned shop to sell shoes in the Philippines, in 1958.

After opening six shoe stores, he diversified the business into clothing and soft goods because shoe manufacturers couldn’t meet his demands for higher volumes.

In 1972, Sy opened his first department store, two months after President Ferdinand Marcos placed the country under martial law. Marcos was ousted by a military and civilian uprising in 1986.

Sy first expanded into real-estate development in 1974 with the founding of Multi-Realty Development Corp, formed to develop high-rise condominiums and townhouse units in prime parts of Makati, a city in metropolitan Manila.

In 1976, he bought Acme Savings Bank, which had originally been set up as a thrift bank, and renamed it Banco de Oro Savings & Mortgage Bank. Initially, it provided services mainly to suppliers of ShoeMart. It was renamed Banco de Oro Universal Bank in 1996 when the Philippine central bank gave it the authority to operate as a commercial lender.

Sy had a net worth of US$7.2 billion (S$9.78 billion), according to the Bloomberg Billionaires Index, making him the richest person in the Philippines.

[https://www.straitstimes.com/asia/se-asia/philippines-richest-man-henry-sy-dies-at-94]

Now let’s see how their children were raised. On Gokonwei this is what we hear –

“Lance Gokongwei, president and chief operating officer of JG Summit Holdings Corp., the holding company of the vast Gokongwei group, was groomed from childhood to take over the family business, which is among the biggest in the country.

Dad started from the bottom and he made sure we all did, too. My eldest sister, Robina, started as a receiving clerk at the bodega of Robinsons Department Store. Dad told her, “How will you be able to do your job at the top later on if you don’t know what people down there are doing? Today, Robina runs our whole retail business.

Marcia, on the other hand, scooped ice cream and made waffle cones at a Tivoli kiosk when she was in high school. Today, she is one of the top executives in our food manufacturing business.

In my case, my first job was putting price tags on women’s bras. I guess that makes me an expert on women.

Stay humble. Dad always made sure that we did not think we were better than other people. He told us to hire people who are smarter than us, who are better than us, so that we can improve the business. There is a Chinese phrase that our parents use with us—“gong kia,” which is a term of endearment, but which literally means “stupid child.” It keeps us humble and makes us feel that we are the same as the people who work with us. It’s okay to make mistakes. Even if Dad gave me a lot of opportunities at an early age, he never hovered over my shoulder. He allowed me to make mistakes as long as I didn’t lose too much money. He knew I would learn a lot from them—and I did.”

[https://business.inquirer.net/223293/lance-y-gokongwei-talks-father-john-taught]

“MANILA — The late tycoon John Gokongwei’s eldest daughter recalled how her kidnappers complained that he was willing to give her away because he has 6 other children, one of many stories in a eulogy for her “mentor-father.”

Gokongwei, of course, was following the advice of then-police colonel Panfilo Lacson who led her rescue without a ransom payoff. Robina Gokongwei-Pe was a senior at the University of the Philippines in 1981 when she was kidnapped with her cousin, Celina Chua.

“Anim pala kayong magkakapatid! Akala ko nag-iisa ka. Sabi ng tatay mo, pwede ka na ipamigay kasi mayroon pa siyang limang anak. Ano ba ‘yan!” Gokongwei-Pe said.

(There’s 6 of you. I thought you are an only child. Your father said he can give you away because he has 5 other children. What’s up with that?)

The eulogy was published in full by Esquire Philippines’ website, part of the Gokongweis’ publishing arm, Summit Media.

Gokongwei, whose JG Summit Holdings controls Robinsons Retail, Universal Robina and Cebu Pacific, “was like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’ll hear,” Gokongwei-Pe said.

Bedridden for 6 weeks and unable to speak due to a feeding tube, Gokongwei insisted on reading financial reports, Gokongwei-Pe said. He also told his 24-year-old grandson: “You have to play around!”

Gokongwei-Pe said her father made sure she started in the storage rooms of Robinsons Department Store, without air-condition and with no set time in and time out to teach her the value of hard work.

The same was true for her brother, Lance Gokongwei, she said.

“The thing is, when Lance was on summer vacation, he also put Lance in the Robinsons Department Store bodega, where he learned how to tag bras and where he learned how to read the alphabet in bra sizes, which came in handy later in life,” she said.

Frustrated that she was a bench-sitter or “bangko” of the UP swimming team, Gokongwei-Pe said her father told her to “never give up.”

“He said that I should be happy that I even qualified for the team. He also said that he lost his father when he was 13—what could be worse than that?” she said.

Gokongwei-Pe said her dad was so happy to give her away that during her wedding, the then 67-year-old patriarch walked too fast as she walked her down the aisle, angering her mother.

“Please wait for the bride!” Gokongwei-Pe recalled her mother as saying.

Her wedding was also one of the rare times Gokongwei got a tuxedo, a rented one, only because he heard that a wedding sponsor, Lopez family patriarch Eugenio “Geny” Lopez Jr., was going to wear one.

“My dad was always known to be a sloppy dresser and cheap when it comes to dressing up. His tie always had a stain from ice cream or coffee,” she said.

When he retired at 90, Gokongwei-Pe recalled fellow shopping mall tycoon Henry Sy telling her father: “John, you are going to face three problems when you retire. One is what you are going to do after working for 50 years. Two is who is going to succeed you. Three is the worst problem of all—how to deal with five sons-in-law.”

Gokongwei-Pe said her father congratulated her most recently for her work with the UP Fighting Maroons men’s basketball team, which made the final 4 for the second straight year.

“He knew what his daughter really loved the most. That’s why I loved him for that,” she said.

Ending her eulogy, Gokongwei-Pe said: “By the way, we did not rent his outfit for today. Somewhere along the way, he decided to buy himself an expensive suit, and we made sure that the tie did not have a stain.”

[https://news.abs-cbn.com/business/11/12/19/gokongwei-daughter-in-playful-eulogy-says-dad-taunted-her-kidnappers]

One thing you’ll notice, is that riches didn’t come overnight. It had to be worked out. It had to be planned. Perseverance and the right attitude. The children were never spoiled or pampered.

Why is EVM included? Well, he is now considered to be number one in the list of “Richest Pastor In Philippines:Top 10 Influencial Pastors/Priest Of 2019.”

“Philippines as one with the highest population in the world ranked at number #13 in the world. Philippines includes with the fastest growing population in asia with more than 107.5 million population in 2019 according to worldometers.info. And Philippines consist of different religions most Filipinos are Catholic with highest percentage 2nd are muslim and the rest are protestant and other denominations.

Here are the religious groups and denominations names of well known personality and most influencial religious leaders in the country with their respective churches and organizations. There names were included in the top 10 most wealthiest and richest churches or persons in the Philippines. [Let’s just jump into number one, you can read the whole article on the link provided 🙂 ]

1 – Eduardo “Eddieboy” Manalo

On top of the list as the richest pastor in philippines is Eduardo Manalo the third successor of I.N.C the most influencial religious personality in Philippines. That every electoral candidates want to get his endorsement. Because of the bloc voting doctrine of their church. Since from Felix Manalo the one founded the I.N.C in philippines then turn it over into his son Eranio Manalo the father of Eduardo Manalo. Eduardo Manalo Asset and net worth is around 1billion peso he owns New Era college and Philippine Arena in Bocaue Bulacan. [https://www.rank1one.com/top-10-richest-pastors-philippines-2019/]

The executive minister of the highly-politicized Iglesia Ni Cristo is arguably the wealthiest Filipino religious leader. Iglesia Ni Cristo is more than two times wealthier that the Roman Catholic Church because the former is centralized and the latter is not. Iglesia Ni Cristo is estimated to be worth nearly a trillion pesos including all of its properties, and Manalo as the CEO is surely worth billions of pesos.

[https://www.opinionstage.com/silveraden/ten-wealthiest-religious-leaders-in-the-philippines]

An argument may  be raised (as was in the comments section of the above articles] that all properties are registered under the name of the Church and not under any individual or person. BUT and that’s a big BUT, the organization is registered as “corporation sole” and the Executive Minister as Administrator of all assets of the orgnization.  In short, he “owns” the organization as “Chief Executive Officer“.  We are discussing here hard undeniable facts, not spiritual such as Christ is the owner and so forth. We are pointing fingers as to who can mortgage, sell, and distribute any and all of the assets of the organization and this includes control of cold cash of the church. None other than EVM being the Executive Minister (and of course JS because he has a Power of Attorney to that effect).

Now there are many anecdotes of the late Felix Manalo and his successor Erano Manalo, but unfortunately I can’t think of even one that describes the  current Executive Minister aside from the praises to high heavens by his so called sasardotes or whatever.

So instead, let us witness a discussion between a Minister and a lay member of the church on attainment of material wealth based on the “inspirational” teaching of the Executive Minister –

Miyembro: Ka Delfin (ministro), papaano natin matatamo ang pagpapala (riches) dito sa mundo?

Ministro: Kapatid, dapat maging masagana ka sa paghahandog (offerings). Tulad rin ng  pagtatanim, kung marami kang itinanim, marami kayong aanihin. Nakalagay rin sa biblia na sinabi ng Diyos, subukan ninyo ako kung hindi ko kayo pagpalain na walang silid na paglalagyan sa mga pagpapalang ibibigay ko sa inyo.

Miyembro: Linggo-linggo, naghahandog ako, kasama na rito ang mga tanging-tanging handugan, bakit hanggang ngayon mahirap pa rin kalagayan ko?

Ministro: Huwag kang maiinip kapatid, walang matuwid na anak ng Diyos na nagpapalimos ng tinapay ayon sa biblia. Baka nag-aalinlangan ka pa sa magagawa ng Diyos?

Miyembro: Papaano ako mag-aalinlangan, 20 taon na ako sa Iglesia, 20 taon akong naghahandog, bakit hanggang ngayon, kubo-kubo pa rin bahay ko, wala pa rin akong matatag na hanap buhay?

Ministro: Kapatid, ang pagpapala ay hindi lamang sa material na bagay. Pasalamat ka at hanggang ngayon buhay ka pa at nasa kahalalan na matatamo mo ang kaligtasan pagdating ni Cristo.

Miyembro: Alam ko po yon. Ang tanong ko lang, bakit ang tagasanglibutan tila madaling umangat ang buhay pero ako parang hindi?

Ministro: Alam mo Kapatid, ang Diyos tunay kang mahal. Alam ng Diyos ang nakaraan, alam rin niya ang kasalukuyan, at higit sa lahat alam niya ang darating. Alam niya na baka kung payamanin ka makalimot ka sa kaniya!

Wow! And to think this line of thinking works among its members. But I’m having my doubts. Many are not that naive on giving so called offerings to “God”. The real give-away  proof is – napaka bilis na ang pagbibilang ng mga Pananalapi sa lokal. 30 minuto lang tapos na! Mabilis na sila nakakauwi ngayo hindi tulad noon 😀 😀 😀

Hindi lang yon, every building from the Arena, to the Garden, and the Museum were  built by the offerings of the members BUT UNLESS YOU PUT UP A HEFTY 500 PESOS (more or less), you’ll never gain entrance. Simply put, you are the owner of a house being refused entry by a mere Caretaker which you hired with your own money!

Ooops, forgot its almost midnight. Got carried away. Seniors have a way of doing that as if you didn’t know. Good night friends, and regards to the family. By the way Christmas is just around the corner. Let’s do the “pagan” and greet ourselves a very Merry, Merry Christmas and a Ho! Ho! Ho!

    “Difference between the wealths of John Gokongwei, Henry Sy and EVM …” Ask the late tycoon John Gokonwei how he built his empire and this is what we'll hear -