#I'd call the otp knife play

[ouroboros-hideout]

I am not much of a "shippy person" myself. I highly enjoy seeing other peoples ships and feast hard on the content they create especially if it involves my favorite characters, but I never saw it as a thing I would do myself/I am good at creating stuff for.

But I just came across the most kinky and stupid otp name for Kurt and my oc Aon, that would fit their lore and relationship shockingly good, that I feel tempted to make it a thing.

Bucket list: proper introduction of my oc + draw the babes togehter

[felicia-parker]

If you want/feel like it, can you please write just anything angsty? Adow would be great as a fandom, but I'd do with anything else too.

(You are such a sweet angel, I appreciate you. I tried for a touch of AU for this angsty little plot: of Matthew and Diana)Being in Sept-Tour was becoming something of a comfort. The stone walls were high and formidable, reminding her of Matthew day in and day out with their dark tones and haunting looks she could see why he loved this place he called home. Step after step Diana wandered the hall, slipping past the puddles of evening light that spilled onto the floors of the hallway, with a blanket pulled over her shoulders and exhaustion still buried in her bones. The day before they had rode the stunning horses until the sun sank into the sky, her kiss to Rakasa had been a soft promise to return, but right now she couldn’t imagine braving the stairs down the spiraling tower. “You should be resting you know,” Marthe’s voice sang out as she passed through, a tray in her hands heading for the study that Matthew had been working from. “I am tired of resting. I just wanted to stretch a little.” Diana smiled softly knowing the other   woman would simply nod her head and move along before going back to one of her infamous little pocketbook mystery novels. The kind that could be devoured in a few short hours, nothing like collections of Sherlock Holmes.

“I still think you should be resting, but if you must walk about, do come this way.” The other woman simply tilted her head in an indication that Diana should follow and she did, blanket trailing behind her sock covered feet. The end of Autumn was drawing nearer. The kiss of winter was just settling into France and Diana felt the chill in her blood, different from when Matthew or another vampire looked at her. When vampires looked it felt like ice beneath her skin.Following Marthe through a set of heavy doors she had to take a moment to breathe. They had been hiding a library on her, walls upon walls full of old books. The smell of them tickling at her nose and taunting her with gilded pages and old scripts full of knowledge. Marthe set the tray down on an old dark colored desk before moving to the fireplace built into the ivory set walls. With ease she tossed two logs onto the fire, letting the embers blaze up into something of a roar. The room warmed considerably and Diana smiled as a cup of tea was left for her as Marthe wished her a soft farewell to handle other affairs. The small library was full and untouched, yet there was very little dust to be found on it’s shelves. Instead of moving for the tea, she found herself moving for the shelves.The historian in her wanting to run her fingers along the spines and take in the knowledge this room had to offer. Several leather bound books were calling to her. Her magic tingled beneath the tips of her fingers. She could run her hands over the books, find their secrets, but she resisted. Instead she took her time. Inch by inch moving along the walls until she nearly found herself in the far corner, stepping up onto the stool that had been set off to the side. A book was in her sights. Bound in dark leather, golden lettering, the alchemical symbol etched into it’s spine had her attention now as she pulled it free from the shelf. No sooner had she pulled it free though did she feel the sensation of ice under her skin.

“What are you doing?” Matthew’s voice was quiet but harsh, sharp on her skin like a knife. She nearly dropped the book in an attempt to scramble off of the stool, but she held firm.

“Marthe let me in-” She started stepping down but the edge of the blanket around her back was impeding her. Diana struggled to right herself in and in the process the book in her hand had opened. In an attempt to close it, the old pages sliced clean into her palm. It started with a welling of blood. The shaking.The dark eyes. The tremor in his jaw was the only indication that he could smell it. His top lip curled and he reminded her of a predator in this moment. Something quite deadly, she had let herself forget the dangers that posed with playing house with a vampire. “Matthew,” Diana whispered softly, closing her palm quickly and pressing it into her side as if it would close up the wound and he could turn the switch in his brain that told him to hunt, off. He didn’t move. Instead he stood straight, fingers forming fists and the tremors beneath his skin growing violently so.“Matthew I’m sorry it was an accident!” She ended up shouting the last word in her statement, trying to snap him out of the sudden trance he had put himself in. Diana felt like a doe in the middle of the woods. One wrong step of her foot and she would snap a twig that would lead to teeth in her neck.  She swallowed roughly. This was a mistake, coming to Sept-Tours was a mistake, following a vampire she hardly knew– loving one she barely knew. Here she was a witch, head over heels in love with a creature now ready to spill her veins on his beautiful stone floor. “Matthew,” She whispered softly, “Matthew I didn’t… You’re not going to hurt me.” Diana tried instead, stepping forward. When she stepped forward, his head jerked up, pupils blown.“Get out.” He managed the words. They sounded strangled and when she swallowed he repeated the words once more. Though her steps were fast, he was faster. His arm catching hers and hauling her towards the door to move her along, but his touch was bruising. Her heart became like that of a rabbit’s beating wildly in the cage of her ribs. Instead of pushing her out the door though he pulled her in closer, the tips of her sock covered toes barely touching the ground. His free hand moved for her closed palm and he pulled it up, the tip of his nose skimming along the knuckles there.“This is why I cannot be with you.” His mouth touched her hand when he spoke, pressing the words into her skin like a brand before he let go with force. The tea and blanket forgotten, the book still in front of her like a shield, Diana left the library, closing the doors behind her just before the sound of furniture crashing echoed throughout the tower. The first tear was cooler than the air around her. Her warm blood now sticky in her palm had been the divide between them. Not Ysabeau, not Peter Knox or even the mess of a Congregation but, blood.(Thank you for reading! Feel free to request any/your otp and consider donating to my ko-fi to help me with doggy medicine!)