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bunnyywritings · 4 years ago

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a shy, goth s/o who goes by they/them pronouns

requested by anon; HIII!! I recently started watching soul eater and i finallyyy found someone who writes for them so im reallllly exited!! So i wanted to request something!! Can you do like how Crona, Kid, Soul and Stein would be like in a relationship with a shy goth s/o who uses they/tem prounons (sometimes she). Also when they talk about the things they like they get superrr extroverted and could talk for hourss about it! Also would it heart to ask if you could make cronas a lil longer, they are my comfort character🤧Also wanted to ask if you did emergency requests! If you dont that’s totally fine!!

[a/n: thank you for this request, my lovely anon! It gave me the way to get back into a writing flow again. I quite enjoyed writing for these characters since I don’t get very many Soul Eater requests, as for emergency requests...go ahead and send them in but I apologize if I don’t get it done quickly, seeing as I’m not quite that active on here like I was before. for now, enjoy! - yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´-]

- truthfully, i think he'd be a little confused at first

- about the whole pronouns thing

- despite being friends with Crona

- so, he'd approach Maka, Crona, and Subaki about it

- he'd be a little embarrassed because he mistakenly exposed his HUGE crush on you

- Subaki coos at him and thinks it's sweet

- Crona is glad to help, knowing that using they/them pronouns is still a foreign concept for some people

- Maka would definitely tease him but ultimately, she's glad he had asked for help

- after realizing that it was a rather simple concept to understand

- he'd get SOOO cocky

- he absolutely loves your style

- obviously thinks you're the coolest person to ever exist

- now the only thing in his way??

- your shyness

- he's only interacted with you a few times but because he tends to be a bit abrasive, you usually keep your distance

- the few times that Stein had called on you in class to answer a question was the most he's really heard you talk

- you were good friends with Kid though

- so you ended up hanging out with the group a lot

- he's seen how passionate you could get whilst talking about your hobbies or about things you liked to Kid or Liz

and Patty

- it made him a gajillion times more attracted to you

- after FINALLY gaining the courage to ask you out (you can thank Black Star for telling him that it wasn't cool to be such

a wimp)

- he'd be on cloud nine

- being in a relationship with Soul would be fun

- he'd be a little awkward at first but he'd soon ease into it

- he's really good at respecting your pronouns

- in the case that he slips up, which i don't really think he would, but if he does he'd feel absolutely terrible

- like he'd beat himself up so hard

- he would do anything to make it up to you

- 100% would cook you a super nice dinner as an apology

- if anybody ever made fun of your style or your pronouns, it's over for that person

- they'd have, not only Soul and Maka on their ass, but they'd have Black Star and Tsubaki, AND the literal son of the grim

reaper and his twin pistols

- overall, Soul would be such a sweetheart

- you make him so, so soft

- gosh i love him so much

- okay

- Kid is definitely somebody who would be up front with his feelings

- he knows about your use of different pronouns and he really admires your bravery to be so open about it

- i feel like he's definitely thought about going by he/they pronouns

- thinks it's absolutely adorable how shy you are

- despite being shy and closed off, he never overlooked you like some students or other staff

- he knows how clever you are

- don't even get me started on your style

- he love love loves your goth style

- especially when you wear anything with skulls on it

- when it comes to his feelings, Liz gets fed up with how ridiculous he's being

- she's watched him break down crying because the stripes on his head aren't symmetrical and someone as precious as you

would think he's trash

- which obviously isn't true

- he sees you out on the balcony, sat on the ledge and book in hand

- he's noticed you with it a lot but it's only the 1st book of a series

- he figures that maybe you just haven't had the chance to find the rest of them

- after some research, he finds that the series had been completed but because of the lack of readers, it was put out of

production and copies were pulled out of libraries and bookstores

- but alas, he had found one of the only complete series in existence in somewhat excellent condition

- it was quite expensive but that was really no problem

- he had wrapped up the set and had gifted them to you with a note and as you read the note, your cheeks burned

- he confessed his feelings

- the next day, you had approached him and thanked him for the gift as well as confessing your own feelings for him

- he thought the stuttering and flushed cheeks was adorable

- 100% the power couple at the DWMA

- sorry i don't make the rules

- Liz and Patty are definitely in love with you, especially with how versatile your fashion is

- Patty has definitely volunteered to paint your nails before

- MATCHING RINGS

- Kid definitely gets you a et of skull rings, just like his

- will go beast mode on anyone who makes fun of your style and/or use of pronouns

he's be such a gentleman and he practically worships the ground you walk on

- as he should

- Stein would be quite used to the use of they/them pronouns since he has students who go by them

- when there's word of a new teacher at DWMA who goes by they/them, he's quite intrigued

- so much so that he would volunteer to show you around the enormous school

- 10/10 falls in love with you instantly

- your shy demeanor is such a contrast to your style

- definitely lives for teasing you

- anything to make you stutter

- but he'd be very blunt about his feelings

- he makes sure that you're being respected by students and staff alike

- threatens anybody who doesn't

- he gets you some screw earrings or a necklace (if you don't have piercings)

- it's his way of making sure people know that you're his

- Stein would be an excellent significant other

- he's a bit more on the playful side so just always be prepared for cheeky remarks

- he doesn't mind your shyness at all

- since he doesn't really favor going out too much so most of your dates are in doors, his place or yours

- probably with a cup of coffee and a book

- he can be sweet when he wants to

- isn't really into pda but i wouldn't be too surprised if he had a moment of spontaneity and pull you into his arms and

kiss you passionately

- some students think it's romantic and others definitely tease the both of you

- since your social battery probably runs out pretty quick, he loves that it gives him an out from tiring staff get

togethers

- Death Scythe thinks it's absolutely HYSTERICAL to make fun of Stein's moments of softness

- but ultimately, he thinks the way Stein looks at you is sweet and makes him happy that his friend has found someone like

you

- cause you're the best

- duh

- his wardrobe has infinitely improved since the both of you got together

- all thanks to you

- overall 15/10 a good significant other

- ahh Crona, sweet sweet Crona

- they're the freaking cutest

- now i know that in the anime and manga, it's written that he uses he/him pronouns but it seem like on tumblr everyone has

just settled on using they/them instead because of Crona's androgynous style and frankly it's a bit of an unclear area

- so uhhh yeah, let's get started

- Crona would have trouble admitting that they had feelings for you, so they tries to hide it but alas, Maka had caught on

- it took Soul a bit longer to realize but he eventually did

- the group had caught on and thought it was adorable

- all of them had tried to help in any way they could

- but Crona just couldn't muster up the courage to tell you

- the both of you were quite shy so it was nearly impossible to get some type of interaction between the two of you

- Crona also really loved your style

- the both of you were similar in so many ways

- Black Star had actually been the one to let it slip that Crona had harbored some kind of affection for you

- Tsubaki had smacked him upside the head and chastised him since it wasn't his place to say anything

- but now that it was out in the open, it had given you the slight confidence boost you needed to confess

- but when you did, Crona just stood frozen, almost mortified by your words

- you took it as rejection and ran off into the woods surrounding the school campus

- Ragnarok had then made an appearance and started tugging at Crona's cheeks and telling them that they should go after you

- but of course, they hadn't

- instead, turning to Maka and Tsubaki for help

- the two had taken it upon themselves to look for you and clear up any misunderstandings

- the next day, Crona had approached you and apologized

- even though they're words were stuttered, you appreciated the gesture and asked Crona on a proper date

- they accepted before panicking because it had dawned on them that they had never been on a date before

- overall, Crona is such a sweet partner

- sure, a bit unexperienced but sweet nonetheless

- they try their best

- both of you have similar styles and everyone thinks the both of you are just the most adorable couple on campus

- Crona loved hearing you talk about the things you loved

- your eyes would sparkle and you'd move your hands so animatedly

- it's almost like you're a different person in that moment

- they just adored you

- they'd get upset if someone had disrespected your pronouns

- Ragnorak would definitely rage if someone disrespected you

- as much as he hated to admit it, he really really liked you

- mainly because you always carried sweets around for him

- ugh I just love Crona

#soul eater #soul eater x reader #soul eater evans x reader #death the kid x reader #professor stein x reader #crona gorgon x reader #crona x reader #x gn!reader #anon request #lovely anon #anon ask

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needtherapy · 4 years ago

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soaring, carried aloft on the wind...continued 16

A story for Xichen and Mingjue, in another time and another place.

The Beifeng, the mighty empire of the north, invaded more than a year ago, moving inexorably south and east.

In order to buy peace, the chief of the Lan clan has given the Beifeng warlord a gift, his second oldest son in marriage. However, when Xichen finds out he makes a plan.

He, too, can give a gift to the Beifeng warlord, and he will not regret it.

Part 1: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 Part 2: 14 / 15 / 16 … HOME

It’s complete on AO3 here.

Notes: Check the tags if you’re concerned about the pairings ;)

For translations of the entirely fictitious Beifeng language, you’ll have to scroll to notes. I’m only going to translate something that’s not clear in the text. Sadly, there’s just not any other good way to do it on Tumblr!

Chapter 16 Now

It rains for a week as spring approaches, great sheets of water that turn the Ikarahu camp into rivers of mud. Everyone is miserable, dirty, and fractious. Huaisang and Guangyao get into an argument that ends in shouting, and they stop talking to each other for three days, taking turns complaining to Xichen. Even Mingjue seems altered—pensive and solemn, his boisterous affection distracted by thoughts he doesn’t share. Xichen spends most of his time reading and avoiding people, huddling under blankets by his warm brazier.

But once the storms pass and all the water seeps back into the ground, the end of winter turns sunny and clear, as if the gods are apologizing for their earlier tantrum.

After so many days inside, Xichen welcomes Huaisang’s suggestion of a day’s ride into the foothills to the west of the camp. He’s aware that there is likely a secondary reason for the suggestion—with Huaisang, there is rarely only one reason—but the chance to feel the wind on his face overrides any care he has for Huaisang’s schemes.

They are a larger group than Xichen expected: himself, Huaisang, Guangyao, Qingyang, Titakau, and three guards. But of course they would need guards. Even Huaisang would not be so incautious as to risk their safety, and now that he considers it, three guards seems like fewer than Mingjue would have insisted on. Xichen wonders if Huaisang made his brother aware of his plans.

After only a few minutes of riding, a rolling canter that, on Liebing’s light feet, feels almost as smooth as walking, Xichen slows at the sound of pounding hoofbeats behind them.

“Aurakat! Wingani! Roka eneti di eta hira om ga tega ehi heromu,” Mingjue yells, pulling up his horse in front of Huaisang and forcing him to stop.

“Three soldiers for four people is plenty, anakau,” Huaisang argues. “Unless you think Xichen is incapable of defending himself.”

It is a low blow, and Xichen has to bite his lip to keep from laughing at Mingjue’s consternation.

“I did mention we were having a picnic. What did you think that meant?” Huaisang asks with a flippant smirk.

“Will you come with us, ahoraho?” Xichen asks, distracting Mingjue, who looks ready to tackle Huasiang off his horse. “If you are not too busy?”

With a huff, Mingjue scowls at Huaisang one more time before falling back to join Xichen. They ride in silence for a while, in part because Xichen is at a loss for words. Without the army, without the camp, he’s not sure what to talk about. He has rarely felt awkward around Mingjue, but he suddenly can’t think of a single thing to say. Instead he watches his friends. Qingyang laughs at something Titakau says, and Xichen can see Titakau smiling, even from here. Ahead of them, Huaisang pokes Guangyao in the shoulder and points to something in the distance, the silhouette of a huge eagle eventually gliding into sight, banking above them and heading north, toward the mountains. Guangyao watches the path of the bird until it disappears from sight.

“Poets in my country speak of your land as empty and barren, but I think they have never been here,” Mingjue says suddenly, breaking the silence. “There is beauty in your plains and hills, as there is in our datik.”

Xichen blinks at him, taken aback by Mingjue’s interest in poetry as much as his continued insistence that the mountains of Xichen’s home are mere hills.

Mingjue grins, reading Xichen’s expression. “They are not even covered in snow, Xichen. But tell me, do your poets write of Ikara?”

They do, and Xichen tells him that Ikara is seen as a mystical place, frightful and wild, with giants of men who ravage maidens and warrior women who wield dark magic. Mingjue roars with laughter.

“Xichen, you are kindio touha...more danger...hm...more dangerous...than most of our people. Although I do not know how it is possible. How do your people grow strong drinking the weak tea?”

Xichen pretends to be offended as he explains the supremacy of delicate, aged white tea. After so many months, it is unexpectedly charming to see yet another side of Mingjue. Xichen hadn’t fully appreciated how heavily caring for the well-being of so many people weighs on Mingjue. Within the encampment, Mingjue is always kipakau, always the general. But the further they get from the city of tents, the less he seems like a commander and more like an ordinary man Xichen doesn’t know well enough yet.

They enter a copse of pine trees, and Xichen is subdued by the beauty of this evergreen forest. Even though it is not yet true spring, there is the whisper of wind in the boughs, bird song all around him, and the peace of it inhabits him like home. When they emerge into a clearing on the other side of the woods, a quiet lake with the remains of summer reeds on its shores lays before them. Xichen nearly asks how Huaisang knew it was here, because it is clearly his intended destination.

“Time for lunch!” Huaisang announces as he dismounts, and with an unnecessarily dramatic gesture, he sets up a large flame burning in the grass.

Even with no wood to sustain it, the flame produces heat, fueled by the magic in the air. Xichen and Guangyao exchange a look. It is another reminder of how different Ikarahu magic is, and Xichen wonders how long the fire can last.

The ground is dry, if cold, and they unpack thick wool blankets to sit on. Their three guards’ horses had been carrying baskets of food, all designed to be eaten cold, as well as jars of ale and water, and Xichen is amused at how carefully Huaisang has prepared this adventure.

Huaisang whistles and Kitingi joins them, although she settles on Guangyao’s shoulder, not Huaisang’s, and bites his hair affectionately. He hands her tiny pieces of food he usually has at the ready. Guangyao’s face softens as it always does around Kitingi, and he scratches the top of her head, smoothing her feathers as she eats. Xichen thinks she might prefer Guangyao even to Mingjue these days.

Titakau whispers something to Qingyang, and Qingyang laughs. “I don’t know, auhani. I’ll ask. Why doesn’t she fly away? She isn’t tethered like the other munaku.”

“I feed her too well,” Huaisang jokes, but Mingjue gives her a true answer. “Aurakat only pretends he does not care,” he explains, smirking at Huaisang as though revealing a deep, dark secret, and Huaisang throws a cup at him. “He raised her from a chick. She could leave any time, but she stays for love.”

They finish eating, and then they sword fight. It would have been a strange way to pass the afternoon in the Cloud Recesses, but Huaisang claims to be cold after their meal and challenges his brother to a duel, a match even Xichen has never seen before. It shouldn’t have been a contest, but once they start, it’s obvious that Huaisang has learned from spending his life sparring with Mingjue. He knows every counter to every move, and he even pulls out his kitingi fan as an extra distraction, blocking Kaumadis with hard swipes and spinning the sharp blades of the fan in front of Mingjue’s face. It doesn’t seem likely that he’ll win, but he keeps Mingjue on his toes until Mingjue laughingly dodges a parry and picks Huaisang up, slinging him over his shoulder and depositing him back onto a blanket by Guangyao.

“Enough! You will have me dancing for hours, anati,” he says and looks as though he intends to sit too, but Xichen stands.

“Will you dance with me, ahoraho?” he asks, drawing Sikunadis, and Mingjue’s eyes darken.

Xichen likes that look on Mingjue’s face. He turns his back to the rest of the group, biting his lip and giving Mingjue a private smile he intends to convey just how much. Mingjue shakes his head.

“You do not fight fair, aitapaho,” he complains with a wink.

It is not a serious bout, not in the tall dry grass, and not after Mingjue has already sparred with Huaisang, but Xichen never tires of learning how he can use Sikunadis differently than an ordinary sword. As Huaisang had suspected, the sword responds to his magic, filling like a well, holding the power for as long as necessary and allowing Xichen to recover his strength. And when he pushes in more power than the sword can hold, the release is magnified, a brilliant explosion of darkness and light that can fling even a shielded attacker away.

Xichen would not say he is showing off, but at first, he lets Mingjue take more risks and get closer than usual, leaning back to let Kaumadis glide past his face, flipping sideways to evade strikes, and putting even more speed into his parries. When he realizes Mingjue is tiring, he runs his fingers across the back of Mingjue’s neck as he spins behind him, grinning when Mingjue groans and falters.

He wins against Mingjue easily and far too quickly, only using enough of the power reserves inside Sikunadis to buzz against Mingjue when he tags him on the back first, then the stomach. Mingjue falls to the ground, laughing and raising his hands in defeat. He holds Xichen’s gaze just long enough to promise rewards when they get back to camp, long enough to make Xichen grin foolishly.

“Guangyao? Do you wish to fight with me?” Xichen asks, not wanting to leave anyone out, and Guangyao deliberates before shaking his head.

“I am no expert, and Zewu-Jun is. I might only be able to keep up with Oringa'anhu Ikira,” he says, entirely serious, smiling only when Huaisang realizes he’s been insulted and reacts with mock outrage.

Qingyang declines as well, but to Xichen’s surprise, Titakau agrees to fight, borrowing Huaisang’s sword. She has excellent form and technique, and she is nearly as quick as Xichen. She catches him off guard twice, forcing him to scramble to block. They end the match in a draw, and Xichen compliments her skill. She ducks her head and tells him that her father is a swordsmith, and she has held a sword since she was a baby.

“Ei kamhawa mau peita ei eta ino iro tiato, gani ora anot inko paketau sima auha di Ipira'orhew Ikira. Et paketau di sima eta kipakau,” Titakau says, smiling shyly.

Qingyang translates, “My father was embarrassed when I became a healer, but now he is so proud that I am in service to Ipira'orhew Ikira. Everyone is proud to serve the crown prince.” With a quick grin that lights her eyes, Qingyang adds, “I am as well, you know.”

Mingjue makes a sound of dismissal and shakes his head, but he’s smiling. There is a thoughtful crease in Guangyao’s eyebrows for a split second before Kitingi leaps off of his shoulder with a sudden scream, flapping high into the air and wheeling to dive into the nearby underbrush. Huaisang and Guangyao follow her to see if she snared whatever she was hunting.

Xichen is curious about which part of Titakau’s words intrigued Guangyao, but he lets the thought go when Mingjue wraps a blanket around him and kisses Xichen’s cheek, sitting next to him with a sigh. Xichen pulls Mingjue’s hand under the blanket and rubs his thumb over Mingjue’s knuckles, leaning against him to absorb his warmth. He wonders what his father or brother would think of how easily he shows and accepts affection like the Ikarahu. He had never minded the formal distance his family kept in the Cloud Recesses. It had felt respectful and unintrusive. But now he craves the simplest touch; there is a space inside him that can never be full enough. Wangji would probably look away in embarrassment, he thinks. Or, remembering the look on Wangji’s face when he talked about his archer, maybe not. He can’t hide his smile and he decides not to ruin his day by thinking about what his father’s reaction might be. Perhaps he is an unfilial son, but he is glad his father will never have the chance to disapprove.

Guangyao and Huaisang finally retrieve a chattering Kitingi from the bush clutching a finch in her claws, and somehow, they are arguing. It’s only been minutes, and Xichen can’t understand how they’ve already found something to disagree about.

“An ambush will not work,” Guangyao says as they rejoin the group, unhooking the two birds and setting the little finch free. “I don’t care if your hawk is always successful. You’ve been camped outside of Jinlin Tai for months. They know you’re here.”

“That’s why it will work, Guangyao,” Huaisang explains, patient to the point of condescension. “They expect us to continue the siege or bring the whole army. We’ve tried waiting patiently. A frontal assault will result in too many casualties. Perhaps we need a different strategy.”

Guangyao’s eyes narrow, and he frowns. “Perhaps you should stop pestering them entirely.”

Huaisang’s grin is swift and careless, but his voice softens. “You know we won’t. Perhaps they should give in.”

Xichen wonders if they realize how obvious it is that they aren’t only talking about Jinlin Tai anymore.

Notes: Aurakat! Wingani! Roka eneti di eta hira om ga tega ehi heromu. = Aurakat! You idiot! This is not enough men for safety.

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #soaring au #nielan #nie mingjue #lan xichen #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #sangyao #luo qingyang #complete on ao3

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thisdiscontentedwinter · 5 years ago

Text

Bad Blood - Chapter 8

You can read it on AO3 or find the Tumblr Chapter Index here.

________________________

Peter doesn’t sleep on Friday night. He checks his phone for any emails and texts from other packs, and the silence is both deafening and pointed. The Hales are on their own. Deaton has emailed him. He’s heading down to Mexico to talk face-to-face with Araya Calavera, the matriarch of a hunter family known for its strict adherence to the Code.

It’s a long shot, probably, but Peter appreciates the gesture.

If the Calaveras didn’t give a fuck about the Argents going rogue six years ago when they burned the Hale pack to the ground, why the hell would they care now?

Scant hope, he supposes, is better than none at all. So Peter is grateful to Deaton for the attempt, even though he’s cynical enough to know nothing will come of it. That scant hope comes with a stab of guilt as well, because Peter has pushed Deaton away since the fire, and told Laura exactly what he thinks of emissaries and their useless advice. He hasn’t been fair to Deaton, he suspects. But then it’s been a long time since Peter has felt inclined to be fair to anyone.

It’s still dark when he pads downstairs for something to eat, even though it’s nowhere near breakfast.

Peter helps himself to the cereal. It’s some sugary brand that Matty loves and insists that they buy for him. Nobody else eats it. Peter pours himself a bowl to save it from going stale, but he discovers that he doesn’t have the stomach to finish it.

He hopes Matty isn’t too homesick. He hopes he’s enjoying the tree house by the lake. He hopes that this ends soon, and he can come home.

That feels like the most hollow hope of all.

He thinks of John Stilinski, and how defeated the man had looked the other night when Peter had watched him through his kitchen window. That’s how Peter feels most of the time, although he doesn’t have the luxury of sinking into a bottle of whiskey. Peter might not be the alpha, but his pack—small as it is—relies on him. Laura needs to know that her left hand is steady. Derek needs to know that he isn’t alone. And Matty…

Matty needs his Uncle Peter to come home to.

Peter looks up at he hears footsteps on the stairs. He tilts his head and hears Derek’s familiar heartbeat. Moments later, the loft door opens.

“How was the party?” Peter asks.

“Why are you lurking here in the dark?” Derek mutters.

“I’m cultivating my persona,” Peter says. He doesn’t need light to know that Derek’s giving him a death glare for that. “I couldn’t be bothered turn a light on.”

Derek grunts.

“How was the party?”

“Scott kept control,” Derek says.

Peter doesn’t need to be a left hand to know there’s something Derek isn’t saying. He’s his uncle. He’s been able to read him like a book since he was a toddler. “And?”

“And nothing,” Derek says, gruff and flustered.

Well then.

Peter allows himself a slight smile at that. So Derek got distracted by some pretty thing, did he? It’s been a while. Peter doesn’t begrudge it. Derek’s no Scott, after all. He knows how to prioritise safety over sex.

These days, at least.

It was a hard-learned lesson though, for everyone.

Derek flops down on the couch opposite Peter’s.

“Deaton’s going to Mexico,” Peter says. “To speak to Araya Calavera.”

“What will that help?” Derek asks.

“Something Laura said the other day,” Peter says. “She said that even if we could win against the Argents, what would stop the other hunter families from coming? Well, this might.”

“You really believe that?” Derek’s eyebrows tug together.

“It’s a slim hope,” Peter admits, “but it’s better than nothing. Which is our other option, by the way.”

Derek shows him a tight, grim smile.

Peter thinks again of John Stilinski. Stilinski is like a pebble in his shoe. An irritant. There’s something about him that Peter just can’t ignore. Peter doesn’t like it when he can’t solve a puzzle, and that’s what John Stilinski is. He’s a puzzle, with pieces that refuse to fit together.

Derek leans over and inspects Peter’s bowl of cereal, and then, with a shrug, steals it and begins to eat.

Peter watches him with a smirk.

He isn’t sure how much Derek and Laura know about what happened on the night of the fire. They were both out and, when they were finally able to see Peter at the hospital, there was just so much to take in that night, and over all the followings days and nights, that he’s not sure that one little detail—John Stilinski breaking the line of mountain ash so Peter could escape—wasn’t swept away under the sheer weight of everything else.

The loss of their parents, their siblings, their pack.

The loss of their home.

Laura’s new alpha status.

Derek’s crushing guilt when he realized that the woman he’d thought he’d loved had been the one who struck the match.

Matty’s slow recovery from his burns and his smoke inhalation. There had been more than one occasion where, when he was fighting infection, that the doctors told them to prepare for the worst.

Peter stretches and stands. “I’m going out.”

Derek raises his eyebrows. “It’s the middle of the night.”

Peter flashes him a smile. “Then don’t wait up, nephew.”

***

It’s not the middle of the night at all. It’s almost dawn when Peter finds himself at Stilinski’s house. Peter approaches it from the back—he has a working relationship with the dog next door, and Jasper hasn’t given him any trouble since that first night years ago when Peter growled right back at him. There are lights on in Stilinski’s house—upstairs in his bedroom, and a few downstairs. An early shift? Peter might be a hell of a stalker, but even he doesn’t know the man’s roster.

And then he hears voices: low and angry.

Peter slips down the side of the house to the front yard.

There’s a black SUV parked out the front of the house, and Chris Argent is standing in the sheriff’s open doorway.

Well, he’s standing when Peter first sees him.

And then he’s flying backwards and landing on his ass on the porch, and John Stilinski is stepping out of the doorway to stand over him.

Chris Argent shows the sheriff his palms. “John,” he says, and then: “Janusz.”

“Get the hell off my property,” Stilinski says.

So it’s not a lie, and it never was. John Stilinski really isn’t a hunter anymore. He’s not an ally though either, is he?

Peter watches closely.

“John,” Chris Argent says again. He climbs carefully to his feet, and takes a few steps back. Peter doesn’t blame him. Stilinski looks like murder. “You broke the Code.”

“That’s a lie.” Stilinski’s heart doesn’t skip a beat. “If that’s what he told you, it’s a lie.”

Chris flashes a bitter smile and shakes his head. “You betrayed us.”

“I didn’t—”

“You left us!” There’s more hurt in Chris Argent’s words than Peter would have thought a hunter was capable of feeling. And then his stoic mask is back, like it was never lifted. “You’re a traitor to every oath you swore to uphold, John.”

“Get the fuck off my property,” Stilinski says. “I won’t tell you again.”

Chris shakes his head again, and turns and walked down the porch steps. They creak under his boots. He stops when he reaches the ground, and turns back. “I’m sorry, John. I’m sorry it had to end this way.”

“You keep telling yourself that, you son of a bitch,” Stilinski says. “See if it’ll help you sleep at night.”

He slams the door.

***

“Derek,” Laura says on Tuesday night, “are you even listening to me?”

Derek looks up from his phone guiltily. “What?”

“I asked if you were even listening to me,” Laura says, rolling her eyes.

Derek flushes, colour rising in his cheeks, and shoves his phone in his pocket. “Sorry.”

“You’ve been checking that thing for days,” Laura says. “Did you and Scott accidentally bodyswap Friday night? Because I’d swear you’re as ridiculous as him right now.”

Derek glares at her.

“Oh, you did!” Laura exclaims. “You turned into Scott, and you met a pretty girl at the party too, and now you’re in lurrrrve! Any second now all your higher brain function will migrate to your dick, and you won’t be able to form a single coherent thought!”

“Shut up,” Derek mutters, the tips of his ears turning pink. “I’m not in love.” His flush deepens. Even the tips of his ears turn pink. “And it wasn’t a girl.”

Laura’s eyes widen. “Tell me everything! Is he cute? God, no, it was a high school party. Acne-ridden nerd, or acne-ridden jock?”

Derek tries to disappear into the space between his hunched shoulders.

Peter might enjoy moments like these, he thinks, moments of teasing banter, if only the shadow of the Argents didn’t loom over them.

“Alpha,” he says pointedly. “While I’d love to tease Derek as much as the next person, can we please focus on the issues at hand? This is a strategy meeting. How about we try some actual strategising?”

Laura perches on the edge of the couch, her smile fading. “You’re right, sorry.”

And Peter feels like a monster, for stealing this moment of levity from her. She’s had so few since the fire.

“So do we have a strategy?” Laura asks. “Or are we just sitting ducks?”

“We fight,” Peter says. “That’s the strategy. We take them down before they take us down, and we hope that Deaton can make a case with the Calaveras to keep the other hunter families off our backs.”

Laura nods, and exhales slowly. “It’s the only option, isn’t it?”

“I think so, yes,” Peter says.

Derek nods slowly.

“I think that—” Laura stops suddenly, and draws a sharp breath. She sways, and Derek reaches out to steady her. “Oh god!”

“Laura?” Derek asks.

And then Peter feels it too. A sharp burst of not-quite pain, like a flash of white in his vision. It shoots along his pack bonds in his mind, a discordant twanging string on a musical instrument Peter knows well enough to play by feel, suddenly out of tune with all the others.

Something’s wrong with the pack bonds.

Something’s very, very wrong.

Peter sees the bonds in his mind’s eye, and one is rapidly fraying, strands unravelling, the pieces holding it together thinner and thinner by the moment.

Peter can almost hear it when it snaps.

Laura gasps, and her hand flies to her throat. “Scott!”

#bad blood #sterek #steter senior #my fics #discontentedwinter

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homenum-revelio-hq · 5 years ago

Photo

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Nicky!

You have been accepted for the role of DORCAS MEADOWES! Your application was amazing! I really enjoyed seeing how well thought out this version of Dorcas was in your mind. I can clearly see where she’ll fit in and can’t wait for her to start blowing shit up! The Order needs someone to rock the boat and you’ve brought that through in your application!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Nicky

AGE: 30+

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: Medium, sporadic; I work retail hours which means that my schedule is not consistent between days. I expect to be able to make several replies each week, however, and am available to check-in or chat often. Tuesdays and Thursdays are the only time I’m really out-of-touch for considerable periods on a regular basis although in general I have more free time in the latter half of the week than I do at the beginning – and of course when Winter Holiday Shopping Season rolls around I will be more absent than usual!

ANYTHING ELSE: For experience, I have played in and adminned several roleplays, 90% of them Harry Potter-based, with a little time doing indie rp as well. I mostly only rp on tumblr (I like the visuals!) but I’ve been around for several years now. I tend to be long-winded but value content over quality, and don’t care about “length matching” on replies. I will also basically always post images with my replies because it’s an integral part of the “acting” experience for me, but I have no objection if my interaction partners prefer to go straight-prose in their posts. No triggers, although I would appreciate it if any posts involving the deaths of cats (or kneazles) could be tagged so I can brace myself or skim over them!

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Dorcas Dembe Meadowes

(her parents named her Dorcas for grace–it means “gazelle”–and because her father just liked the way it sounded, and Dembe for peace to honor their hopes for the world and her future; while she is hardly clumsy, aside from that there seems to be little of Dorcas’s names in her attitude or personality…especially not of her middle name! So much for the wizarding superstition that a child’s names can be prophetic…)

AGE: 18

GENDER & SEXUALITY: Dorcas is a cis-gender witch who uses she/her pronouns. I haven’t settled 100% on her sexuality (given the time period, I expect she hasn’t either) but I’m leaning heavily toward her being either a lesbian or a bisexual. I plan to start the game with her being somewhat aware of her preferences, but not having sorted it all out yet. While romance is not a priority in terms of plots I’m seeking, I am definitely interested in Dorcas exploring and discovering more about herself and her identity throughout the game. I think she’s definitely someone who would throw herself into the idea of being Out (and damn the consequences – as usual) which may be especially interesting if it serves as a stumbling block for friends or fellow Order members (or potential/current romance partners) who come from a more conservative (muggle?) background and aren’t keen on her flaunting that.

BLOOD STATUS: half-blood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Hufflepuff (certainly never a prefect, although she did fly Reserve on the Quidditch team as a Beater for two years, playing in a total of one match)

ANY CHANGES: None!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

“Brash enough to be a Gryffindor,” is something people say about Dorcas a lot – but only because they’re missing the point of Hufflepuff House, Dorcas insists. Hufflepuffs aren’t dull, mild stick-in-the-muds any more than any other House; they just have that reputation because they have more follow-through. Gryffindors are useless after the initial rush of bravada and adrenaline has worn-off; Ravenclaws are too easily distracted overall; and Slytherins are too quick to jump for the new advantage to see things through. Hufflepuffs, though, Hufflepuffs know how to focus. And while Dorcas might be quick to jump into a fray, she is no quitter. She’ll never admit a cause is lost (even when she should), never give up on anyone or anything…unless they betray her. Dorcas is an open-hearted, amiable, outgoing soul who is quick to offer friendship to others, but she is unforgiving and unshakable in the grudges she holds against those who let her down. Small things she can forgive, of course – she’s no monster and no one is perfect! But true, genuine betrayal? Of person or principle? That, she will not tolerate.

Dorcas herself is not always easy to tolerate either. Stubborn and blunt, she speaks her mind (even when perhaps she ought to keep it to herself) and her skill in tact and tempering is stunted from disuse. She redeems herself somewhat with those who can bear-up under her brusque honesty by being a loyal and helpful friend, but even that is sometimes negated by her devotion to whatever plan or purpose currently dictates her motivation. It’s not that she’s unkind – just something of a bulldozer. When Dorcas Meadowes decides to do something, she sees it through and damn the consequences – whether that be the numerous detentions she served in school, the bruised feelings of friends and foes alike, or the bridges she has (mostly metaphorically) burned behind her, she will not balk or hesitate even if it kills her (and everyone around her). And with the higher stakes at which the Order of the Phoenix operates, it just well might.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

The only child of Olive Blott and Thewton Meadowes, Dorcas grew-up in a comfortable, secure, sedate, middle-class magical home. Her parents doted without spoiling her and while she never wanted for anything much, she wasn’t the kind of child who was showered with expensive brooms or designer robes – which was just as well, as Dorcas wouldn’t have cared much for those sorts of over-priced trinkets anyway. Like Dorcas, her parents were solid, hard-working Hufflepuffs (they had met in school; although they hadn’t been in the same year to share classes, they shared plenty of time in the common room and cheering for their friends together on the Quidditch pitch) but unlike them, her work-ethic was rather flexible about where it was applied. Maybe that was an innate aspect of Dorcas’s personality, or something she learned from her non-Hufflepuff friends at school…or maybe, something she picked up from her grandmother. Zawedde Meadowes was a firebrand, an iconoclast, and a fighter. She taught her granddaughter not only how to fight, but when to fight. (Dorcas may have learned that lesson a little too well, with none of the accompanying “and when not to fight” counterpart.) It was Grandma Zawe who broke the erstwhile “purity” of the old Meadowes family line when she married into it – but after seven years as a muggle-born student in Slytherin, some disapproving family glares (and hexes) weren’t enough to make her break a sweat. Despite her more conservative son and daughter-in-law’s efforts to temper Zawe’s outspoken attitude and boundless confidence, Dorcas learned a lot from the grandmother who often served as babysitter while mum and dad were working in the bookshop. Olive and Thewton would have much rather their little girl were a little bit meeker and milder. More willing to go with the flow, like they do; to not cause a fuss. But “fuss” is what Dorcas excels at. The older she got, the more she has come to look on her parents with bemused and at times almost condescending affection. How could they be so content with a world that was so unfair? Keeping their heads down might have kept the shop free of controversy, sure, and that kept them profitable and free of the sort of attempted censorship that louder opinions often garnered, but it didn’t do anything to change things. While Zawe doesn’t know the full extent of Dorcas’s activities with the Order of the Phoenix – nor, indeed, does she know for sure exactly what the Order is nor that Dorcas is a member of an illegal vigilante group – she knows that her granddaughter is up to something dangerous and illicit, something that mirrors her own not-so-long-ago-as-all-that battles against Grindewald. Having personal experience with war makes Zawe aware of just how much danger her granddaughter may be in, but it also makes her proud. When she entertained little Dorcas with stories of her wartime activities, she never thought she might be preparing the girl for her own battles – but if that is where the world is now, so be it. Zawe continues to encourage Dorcas just as she always has, whether that be with playing alibi for mum and dad or by offering words of advice and encouragement after a particularly difficult battle or frustrating conversation with the Order’s more stick-in-the-mud members. Dorcas may have learned the value of hard-work from her parents, but she learned the importance of standing her ground from her gran. With those two elements combined, she’s proven herself a true force to be reckoned with – at least when she’s doing something she thinks matters. (Otherwise…well, “lackluster” would be a generous way to describe her effort.)

OCCUPATION:

Dorcas works as a part-time assistant at the family business, Flourish & Blotts, the main bookseller in Diagon Alley. Her parents would be a lot happier about the fact that she’s showing an interest in the family business if she would actually show an interest – but half the time she cuts out of her shifts early, or sprints in late, or calls-off altogether. If she weren’t family, she’d have long ago been fired, but how do you fire the woman who’s going to inherit the place one day? Scolding her doesn’t seem to help; she either shrugs it off or stomps off, claiming she has more important things to do. What can she be up to that’s keeping her so preoccupied?

ROLE WITHIN ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

As one of the newest – and also one of the most openly passionate – members of the Order, Dorcas ought to be sitting back and following the lead of her elders and proving where she can be most useful. Instead, she’s causing something of a stir with her big mouth, blunt criticism, and insistence on doing things differently. Dorcas wants the Order to be more proactive, even if that means being more violent. She’s not afraid of collateral damage; this is a war, after all! People get hurt in war, and letting things drag-out because you don’t have the conviction to do what needs to be done is only going to get more people hurt in the long run. So far, she hasn’t swayed anyone who matters to her side – not Kingsely, not Moody, not [Alice] Longbottom, and certainly not Dumbledore. But she is riling-up the younger members, which can be both good and bad: it’s hard to make proper plans when a quarter of the room won’t stop shouting, but it’s also hard to sink into morose despair when there’s a wild-haired girl barely out of her Hogwarts robes shouting in your ear about “taking the fight to Voldemort directly, what are we waiting for?” She has become something of a pivot point within the group – not yet carrying enough weight to tip the balance of power or force any major confrontation or schism, but enough to make people think. Enough to make people argue. Enough to stir things up – which is exactly what she wants. Dorcas has no time for complacency; that’s her parents’ stock in trade, not hers. She is so adamant about not waiting around in fact that she has branched-out on her own private “missions” outside Order edict, support, or sanction – which isn’t quite crossing the line, because it’s not as though they’re an army with orders to follow. They’re a group of desperate vigilantes all pitching-in together to stop a great evil…but Dorcas is pitching a little harder than what some people are comfortable being associated with. So far Dumbledore hasn’t said much about Dorcas and her methods one way or the other – but with how preoccupied he’s been with his own secretive efforts, one has to wonder if he’s had time to notice? Worse (or better, depending on your point of view), she’s convinced other junior members to go along with her on her mad, reckless crusades – acts that the Daily Prophet more often than not labels terrorism. They’re too skittish and scared to understand the difference between what she does and what the Death Eaters do, that’s all – them, and all the complacent fools sitting huddled in their houses, waiting for someone else to come and save them. Dorcas thinks that the Order has been coddling these people too much, letting too many wix get away with sitting on the sidelines by not forcing them to take sides – by letting them bury their heads in the sands and pretend that if they ignore the strife all around them, it will go away. She knows better, and she thinks she can force those layabouts to pick up wands and pick a side if she just rubs their noses in it a bit more. If she brings the war to them, they won’t be able to sit back and marinate in their timid apathy; they’ll have to join the fight, because when she’s through there won’t be any sidelines left in which to hide. Voldemort won’t stand a chance then, not once the rest of the magical community finally gets off their arses and admits that some wars need fought. She has no time to wait for the Ministry, they’re a lost cause – and she’s running out of time (or maybe just patience) to wait for the Order either. Dorcas is going to save the world – and if she has to burn down half of it in the process, so be it.

SURVIVAL: Dorcas’s safety net is her family; it always has been. They may not be enough to protect her from herself this time, though – but she hasn’t been involved in the war for long. She’s still living at home but spends more than a few nights each month crashing at the Potter estate, her room at her grandma’s flat, or with someone else in the Order after a mission or a meeting that runs late – or while she’s waiting for her wounds to heal enough to be able to go home without causing too much outcry. Her parents just think she’s “staying with friends,” as youngsters do – and that’s not technically a lie. Even the people in the Order with whom she doesn’t get along are companions in arms, and that’s almost the same thing as friends surely. Whether she’ll be able to maintain her parents’ ignorance for much longer may be a moot point; someone like Dorcas burns so brightly she may well burn out before there’s time for suspicions to raise.

RELATIONSHIPS:

NOTE: this is all very much first impressions based on bios etc and subject to change when characters are actually claimed and backgrounds plotted; ergo if you see anything in here about your character that doesn’t feel like it “fits” or you have a better idea for or just aren’t in the mood etc – splendid! Any and all of this can be changed, and is just a basis for what I’m going to springboard off to start with until other options can be discussed or developed! In general, Dorcas’s relationships with the rest of the Order are…okay. She’s new, so some of them don’t trust her yet; she’s reckless, so some of them never will. On the other hand, she’s enthusiastic in her commitment, and that’s something of a breath of fresh air amidst a war that’s starting to seem to some to be unwinnable. Definitely she’s a divisive figure – you can’t easily ignore or turn a blind-eye to Dorcas Meadowes, she’s too loud. Too demanding. Too sure that she’s got the right idea to win this war. That doesn’t mean everyone (or even a majority) agree with her methods, and that can make her easy to dislike – or resent. If she’s so willing to accept collateral damage, then how could the Order continue to hold its head up in moral superiority to their opponents? But what if she is right, and only more extreme methods will win the day? Doesn’t that mean the rest of the Order are failures…or cowards? For some people in the Order, it’s easy to say that Dorcas is wrong (or right), requiring only a simple gut-check to know. For others, the question she forces is much more uncomfortable to confront. For many, that makes Dorcas an uncomfortable person to be around – or someone who causes their temper to snap faster than even she maybe deserves, lashing-out at her rather than facing their uncertainty about themselves. She’s a catalyst, and those are not always well-liked by the people thus catalyzed. As for Dorcas’s feeling about some fellow Order members in specific… James Potter. Everything she knew about James before she joined the Order was that he was a bold, reckless, slightly-wild wizard who never passed-up the opportunity for a prank or a laugh or a spot of danger. He was supposed to be some kind of “golden boy” idol for fun-loving troublemakers. So she expected something…more. What she found was someone far too meek, far too reliable, far too tame. What happened? Was his reputation always a bunch of hot air, or has he just lost the will to fight? Regardless, Dorcas is disappointed – but maybe he’s salvageable. Sometimes she thinks she can see a spark in his eye when she’s outlining a scheme; sometimes she thinks if she can push his temper far enough over the edge maybe he’ll snap out of this funk and get back to the person he should be. Maybe he’ll stop letting Moody and Kingsley and Lily Evans hold him back and he’ll actually get off his butt and do something! Caradoc Dearborn. The man’s a bit of a stick-in-the-mud, sure, but he’s a reliable stick-in-the-mud. (If they had more Hufflepuffs in the Order, they wouldn’t all be sitting on their hands like this!) And no coward either – just too cautious for Dorcas’s tastes. She thinks she can fix that, though. He just needs more of her influence and less of Moody’s and Shacklebolt’s sense of caution. Needs to push himself out of their shadow and back into the proper fight. Dorcas is convinced that’s where he wants to be, too – she just needs to show him how to get there. Shouldn’t be too hard. (If some Death Eater had murdered her mother…!) And once he does, he won’t suffer from the sort of second thoughts and backtracking that plague so many of their fellows and keep the Order locked in this endless cycle of act-regret-act-retreat; Hufflepuffs get things done. She won’t deny that it’s nice to have a “familiar” face in the Order too – even if he’s too old to have actually shared time at Hogwarts with Dorcas, they both come from the cozy Hufflepuff cellars and the dedicated Hufflepuff work ethic and that’s pleasantly familiar; just talking to Caradoc for a little can be a balm to her otherwise jangling nerves or anxious energy. Emma Vanity. If Dorcas has a best friend in the Order, it’s got to be Emma. Which is odd, maybe, because Emma Vanity is not the sort of person one would expect someone like Dorcas to be friends with (or the other way around!) but here they are! They came into the Order together, and so far Emma’s seemed happy to stick at her side through thick-and-thin (and through older, more cautious Order members lecturing them both into behaving more – as if anyone ought to “behave” during a war!) and Dorcas is both glad and grateful. She acts like she doesn’t care if no one likes her – but it’s nice having a friend who always does. Emma’s refined and delicate high-society manners don’t even get on Dorcas’s nerves the way such things do with most people…maybe because with Emma they seem natural rather than forced, or maybe it’s because Emma is always so quick to follow Dorcas’s lead without acting like she’s lowering herself. Maybe it’s just because Emma’s pretty manners remind Dorcas of her late great-aunt – the one “old school” Meadowes who actually got along with Dorcas’s muggle-born grandmother, and who was always the nicest part of family gatherings for Dorcas. Emma has more gumption than people give her credit for, too – even if she does have to pushed into it, most of the time. Good thing Dorcas doesn’t mind doing a little bit of pushing. Benjy Fenwick. Him losing his Quidditch career like that was a waste – Dorcas saw him on the pitch enough in school to know that – but the sport’s loss was the Order’s (and her) gain, so she can’t be too sad about it (even though she tries to make sure she acts like she is, if the subject ever comes up; her focus might be a little narrow but she’s not mean!). She feels a little protective – no, a little proprietary toward him, too. After all, she was the one who knew he’d be a great fit for the Order; she was the one who knew he’d be of great use to the Order. (It’s not all running into battle and sprinting away from arrest; there are so many other skills that matter just as much!) The one who knew he was looking for somewhere to belong and was clever enough to offer that. That means he’s “on her side” – regardless of his thoughts on the matter, maybe! It’s not like she’s taking advantage of him, either; she’s just doing what’s best. For everyone. Including Benjy! He’s happier now than he was when he was just sitting around moping, right? So well done, Dorcas! And if that means she has access to a semi-professional Healer who won’t ask questions or go tattling to Moody or Kingsley or Dumbledore if she and a few mates come in all banged-up right after someone’s set-off an explosion in Knockturn Alley or started a fire at some pure-blood estate…well, that’s just a nice side benefit, really. Sirius Black. Dorcas doesn’t trust him. He can be a lot of fun, and can even be a lot of use – but if there’s a candidate for “most likely traitor” it’s Sirius Orion Black. Something about him just rubs Dorcas the wrong way (maybe it’s the fact that she doesn’t like the parts of him she does like; maybe it’s just knowing how his relatives treated her relatives once upon a time – but Dorcas doesn’t believe in inherited guilt any more than she believes in inherited purity so it can’t be that!) so even though he’s one of the few in the Order who really seems to get what she’s pushing for, who really seems to be on board…there’s a little nugget of suspicion. He just seems to be trying too hard all the time – as though his rebellion against his family were pure performance. The fact that he “broke it off” with the Blacks too early to be able to give the Order any real information about his family’s (very very likely) support of Voldemort is awfully convenient. The fact that his “disreputable best friends” are two half-bloods and a pure-blood rather than, say, any muggle-borns or anything really objectionable is awfully convenient too. Almost like the sort of friends someone who believed in blood-purity but wanted to pretend they didn’t would acquire. (He seems to respect James – the pure-blood – the most, too. How convenient.) He even inherited a nice convenient little chunk of money from some uncle, didn’t he? Almost like his family wanted to make sure that he had enough to live on while he was “cut off” from their fortunes… Oh yes, there are a lot of things about Sirius Black’s story that are just a little bit too convenient for Dorcas to easily swallow. A lot of things that would make him the perfect spy for the people who share his surname…and the person a lot of them are almost certainly working for. The fact that there’s never been any proof just shows that Sirius is more subtle than he lets on, that’s all – unless he isn’t the spy. (But if not, who is?) Dorcas isn’t sure – and she isn’t one to turn down a gift horse just because she thinks it might bite her fingers off. As long as Sirius wants to help her plot some mayhem, she’ll take that help and even enjoy herself along the way – and she certainly isn’t going to say anything to undercut the support he sometimes offers her when a big argument gets going about how proactive (or not) the Order should be. But she’s going to keep an eye on him, anyway…someone should.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS:

I have no ships in mind for Dorcas. Speaking generally, I think she is likely to be the kind of person who tumbles passionately into and out of love, and for the most part the “cause” comes first and “happily ever after” is for quitters – or at least, that’s the outlook on which she will insist both to herself and to others; her heart may disagree however, and Dorcas is not one to be ruled by common sense or cold logic, which could potentially place her in interesting circumstances. For individual characters, I’m keen to bounce Dorcas off of both those who agree and disagree with her – and regardless of whether they end up sporting romantic inclinations toward one another or not, I’m particularly interested to explore her relationship with Emma Vanity. Also her relationship with James Potter, but I’m definitely not seeing any potential for romance there! XD

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

One might think that having a Muggle-born grandmother she so adores and looks up to would leave Dorcas free of any traces of blood-prejudice – but one would be wrong, because Dorcas did still grow-up in the magical world and it is far, far too easy to internalize the prevailing attitudes of one’s society even when one ought to know better. Oh, she’s no blood-supremacist – but has she ever looked at a talented Muggle-born with shock at their skills because she expected less of someone with Muggle parents? Of course she has. Part of that comes from her own grandmother’s stories, even: knowing how hard Zawe had to work to keep up with housemates who knew so much more than she did about everything when she started at Hogwarts, Dorcas knows that Muggle-borns are starting-out a little behind the rest of the class…and when you “know” that and grow-up surrounded by a society that’s all-too-quick to assume anyone of Muggle origins is “less than” everybody else? It’s all-too-easy to fall into the same lower expectations…even when you tell yourself it’s just “more impressive” coming from someone like that. The fact that Dorcas doesn’t believe herself to have any sort of anti-Muggle-born prejudice really only makes it worse, because if confronted about it she’d only get defensive and argue the point – she isn’t, she can’t be. Don’t be silly. She’d never! She also shares most of the same other base prejudices common to magical society: werewolves are unclean and dangerous, giants are stupid and violent, goblins are greedy and unstrustworthy… All the “classic” prejudices that become so ingrained in society that it can be hard to even notice them until you know they’re there. Being a half-blood with such close Muggle-roots means thar Dorcas herself falls on the middling-low end of the privilege/prejudice ladder, which gives her just enough social stigma that she can sit back and blithely convince herself that she isn’t prejudiced while still giving her enough of a privileged position to make her life comfortable. No, she’s not some pure-blooded toff with connections stretching back halfway to Merlin who can wink-and-nod their way out of an altercation with the law…but she does fall well within the borders of Ordinary Citizen, nothing too fishy or objectionable about her to make somebody look twice or doubt her word. Plus she’s got the convenience of a recognizable and respected family to fall back on when she trouble comes calling – particularly in the form of the M.L.E.P., who are usually inclined to cut her some extra slack. (“Her parents run Flourish & Blotts, after all, my kids got their schoolbooks there! Go ahead and let the lass off with a warning there John, she’s just blowing-off steam, you know how kids are! No harm done…”) Her time with the Order is just enough for Dorcas to begin noticing this – which is both uncomfortable for her to have to own-up to in her own mind, and convenient for a woman with an agenda like hers. Knowing she can get away with a little bit more than she ought to is going to come very much in handy for dear Dorcas…even if the concept sticks in her craw.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

I am honestly just so excited to get to explore the imperfections and prejudices within the Order; too often fandom makes 99% of the characters in HP so black-and-white in terms of good-vs-evil when most of them aren’t. Sure, there are extreme end-of-the-spectrum characters like Voldemort and Bella and Umbridge who are pretty much Pure Evil (and the occasional opposite end like the hardly-flawless-but-wholly-good-hearted Luna Lovegood) but for the most part, the people in this story are just people. (All that “both light and dark inside us” blah blah blah stuff.) But when you only focus on the Good Guys vs Bad Guys – particularly when the cause the bad guys are fighting for is so bad – it’s easy to gloss-over the flaws in the people fighting against them; easy to forget that they aren’t always great too. Easy to forget that just because you’re fighting against a group of people trying to enshrine prejudice as near-holy writ in their society doesn’t mean that you’re automatically free of prejudice yourself. (Maybe some of the people in the Order are there because they oppose blood-supremacy, but does that mean they like werewolves? Doubt it! Or what about the ones who come from Muggle roots who thus have Muggle prejudices that the wizarding world has little of – racism, for starters! What about queerness? Is it more tolerated in a magical society where people can change genders as easily as they transfigure themselves into rabbits and armchairs, and where marriage has always been about preserving the family line more than romance so who cares what the gender of your “bit on the side” is as long as you produce a proper heir? Etc. What about religion? I doubt too many wix go in for Muggle religions, when so many of those belief systems take the tactic of “thou shalt not suffer a witch to live!” so how does that conflict play-out between those who grew-up with one foot in the magical world and one in the Muggle? So many options for turmoil!) Just because someone is paying enough attention to know that Voldemort is evil doesn’t even mean that they don’t share some of the same ideals being spouted by the Death Eaters – maybe unconsciously, maybe to a lesser degree, etc…but still there, in their head. Internalized. Needing to be unpacked, confronted – but fandom does so little of that. Good Guys are Good, End of Story. The Order were all friends who got along, la la la! Nope. Don’t think so. The Order was made up of a bunch of scared, desperate, angry, beleaguered people (several of them outcasts in their own way) fighting life-and-death battles against an enemy they couldn’t always even find, opposing their own government in many ways in order to “do the right thing” – fighting a war that half the populace would rather just went away. Even if they had all started as buddies, that would have been enough strain to crumble half their friendships by the end – and conversely, to forge people who otherwise have nothing in common into lifelong mates. The interpersonal relationships and inevitable clashes and arguments and confrontations – those are going to be awesome. I’m so excited.

ROULETTE IDEAS (OPTIONAL):

Firstly let me just say that I am happy to offer Dorcas up for any plotting purposes needed – whether that be her little group doing something destructive or illegal, a line that shouldn’t have been crossed, an injury or death that can be blamed on her directly or indirectly, kidnapping (with temporary hostage-plotting of Dorcas; I can sit out a bit no worries!) and rescue mission, whatever! Even if it’s not a plot drop about her, feel free to make use of Dorcas in any sort of inciting incident required; I’m not possessive! As for specific ideas… -Epidemic: because disease doesn’t seem to be something the magical community has to really deal with much (got a cold? Take a Pepper-Up Potion and it’ll go away in an hour!), not the way Muggles do, so I think it would be interesting to have a sudden outbreak of something (something Muggle or something magical?) run rampant through Wizarding England, particularly right now mid-war. (Perhaps rumors will fly that it’s deliberate – but from which side? And engaging in biological warfare in magical war, really??? Are we Muggle barbarians now??) Something strange and uncommon for them to deal with…something that will drive people in to St. Mungo’s in larger-than-usual droves and leave the potioneers and herbologists working overtime and meanwhile there’s a bloody war on we’re busy enough already do you mind? -Someone Gets Bit: either there’s a second werewolf in the Order now (has Remus been exposed yet? Guess it’s his responsibility to play Lycanthropic Yoda – or if he’s still closeted, time for a Guilt Waterfall deciding whether or not to out himself and help out! uh-oh!) or it’s a Bill Weasley/Lavender Brown situation where the offending werewolf wasn’t transformed but oh no lycanthropic taint now what? and general panicking with a heavy side-helping of bigotry whoops! Maybe the Death Eaters get wind of the fact that the Order has a Pet Werewolf, so they sic their own (not so) tame puppy on them with an ambush by Fenrir Greyback and his buddies…or they could decide to fuck with the Order by using Transfiguration to fake a werewolf pack attack, and everyone panics over the bites that are actually harmless but too late to take back anything they said or did when they figure it out whoops – basically just the Death Eaters pulling a nasty prank (because the Marauders aren’t the only immature asshole wix out there lol) but also has the potential “side benefit” of the Order risking exposure by going to St. Mungo’s to get treatment etc….idk this one sounded better in my head before I started detailing it, but I’m sharing it anyway in case it triggers a better idea with someone else! XD -Fake Defection: probably making use of a temporary secondary character, or as a potential idea for someone who wants to join the game only for a few weeks (due to scheduling issues or attention span or whatever) and then write their character out: a Death Eater makes contact with someone in the Order and wants to defect! Everyone is equal parts excited/suspicious! They are brought-in for debriefing and discussion! Things seem to be on the up-and-up…but they aren’t, it’s all a ploy by Voldemort and not a real defection at all but an attempt to worm a spy into the Order or at least sow distrust oh no! They make leading comments and sly little observations that has the Order distrusting each other as much as the supposed defector (who is the spy within the Order???) and eventually blows their cover either with a fight or by ratting-out some of their plans to the Death Eaters leading to an ambush etc etc…but in the meantime? At least one or two Order members thought they’d made a friend (and maybe they really had! but the Death Eater’s loyalty trumps their affection!) and that hurts. (Alt: if the player ends up falling in love with the character and wants to keep them, throw in a twist where the DE in question initially came in as a double-agent for Voldemort but then ends up falling for their new friends and even questioning their own prejudices as a result of direct exposure to the people they used to think weren’t people and now they have to work-out how to really switch sides without burning their bridges with the people who thought they’d already switched sides, whoops!) -Burning the Books: trouble at Flourish & Blotts! Maybe something nasty follows Dorcas home one day; maybe someone in the Death Eaters just gets offended at some of the product being stocked and Dorcas’s parents ignored the threatening letters and hints (because who would actually do any of those things? They’re just selling books! This is a civilized society!) so the Death Eaters decided to make a bigger gesture. Maybe it wasn’t even the Death Eaters themselves, but someone who was inspired by the current social strife and decided to act on their own agenda of hate for from arson-style censorship. How unsettled would Dorcas be to discover her safe-haven was a target now? Would it hit home hard enough to make her question her own policy of “collateral damage is inevitable, stop fussing!” that she’s been pushing? Would it inspire her dial-back her more extreme efforts – or only make her embrace them harder, because if even home isn’t safe anymore than all bets are off! Maybe it’s even all out of her hands by then; maybe it would be a wake-up-call to respect the rules of engagement more but it’s too late, her agenda has a life of its own and she can’t stop it now…so better run and keep up before you get run over? Or plant your feet and try to make a stand, even if you’re standing against what you used to advocate?

ANYTHING ELSE? nothing!

#homenumaccepted #new rp #marauders #bio rpg #marauders rolepla

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c-stress · 6 years ago

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My Ultimate Taekook Fic Recommendations!!

This will be my ongoing list of Taekook fics that I really loved reading and want to share with you guys ♥

A few things beforehand:

All of the following fics will be completed.

I don’t take any credit or responsibilty for any of the following fics.

In this household we support Bottom!Kook.

Please enjoy~~

He Tells Me, “Stay If You Can” by vestals

It takes Jungkook three years to realise two things: 1. He certainly is not straight 2. He is very much in love with Kim Taehyung

#friends to lovers #canon/non au #coming of age #bottom kook #experimenting #8k #ao3

pulling shapes just for your eyes by aeterisks

The number one rule when you're a producer on a show like Miss Right, Taehyung thinks, should be do not fall for the bachelor.

It's such a shame Taehyung has never been good at following rules.

#reality show #producer tae #bachelor kook #secret relationship #switch tae and kook #hot #110k #ao3

The Blood Donor by IncubusRose

A series of kidnappings and killings has led the world to the astonishing discovery that vampires have been living alongside humans for centuries. And it seems they're just as bloodthirsty and twisted as ancient lore makes them out to be.

So when Jungkook finds himself the victim of a kidnapping that's perhaps not as nefarious as he initially thought, why is nothing the way that he thought it would be?

Now he's been roped into helping a sick, red-haired vampire against his will. But the more he explores and discovers in this new world, the faster and harder he falls into Wonderland.

#vampire tae #human kook #kidnapping #no stockholm syndrome though #bottom kook #fluff #violence #ot7 #hate to love #97k #ao3

you're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be by aeterisks

He has seen Taehyung smirk, smile seductively, smile cheekily, grin lazily, but nothing like this. This, Jeongguk thinks, is what happiness must look in Taehyung.

(He tries to ignore the way his chest pumps when he sees it, and the urge to see it again once it’s gone.)

#club owner tae #dj kook #rich tae #fwb #fuckbuddies to lovers #misunderstandings #tae has issues #bottom tae #27k #ao3

Suit & Tie by Wontonz

Taehyung and Jeongguk really shouldn't have been partnered together.

#CEO jungkook #CEO taehyung #bottom kook #both are the best in their job #rivals to lovers #25k #ao3

Eclipse by Bangtanbananas

After the tragic death of his parents, Jeon Jeongguk hated werewolves.

The last thing he ever expected was to fall in love with one.

#werewolf tae #werewolf hunter jk #slow burn #bottom kook #fluff #mating #big fight in the end #ot7 #91k #ao3

As You Are by taekover

Jeon Jungkook, the youngest private investigator in Seoul at 23 years old, with over a hundred solved cases under his belt, does not do favours.

Well. That's what he says.

#fluff #funny #private investigator #5k #ao3

War of Hormones by C_Stress

When Jungkook left the house that day, he just wanted to dance for a bit, not getting it on with some (hot) stranger...

#basically pwp #tattooed tae #virgin jk #bottom kook #one night stand? #3k #ao3

Sugar...daddy? By whatspoppin-yoongi.tumblr

Jokingly but also totally not jokingly putting an ad out to find a sugar daddy seemed simple enough. He never expected people to respond though…

Being rich was all he knew, and so help him god, he wasn’t going to turn out like all the selfish people that surrounded him.

#social media #pictures #texting# sugar daddy jungkook #side yoomin #tumblr

Bubblegum Bitch by snowmoney

Jungkook is but a simple delivery boy; the last thing he needs is a high maintenance fake boyfriend.

#fake relationship #tae in heels #model tae #falling in love #misunderstandings #bottom tae #dislike to love #33k #ao3

Snowflakes by IRINEL

Taehyung falls in love for the first time, right when the first Snowflake kisses the ground. As, a Single father, Drown in responsibilities & pressure, he finds his strength in a pair of Doe eyes, exactly a week before Christmas Eve. In a pair of Doe eyes, belonging to a simple country boy - named Jungkook.

Visiting Jimin's grandmother didn't seem like a good idea from where Taehyung was standing. Especially after her daughter's_Taehyung's wife's sudden disappearance, leaving the young man with a Five years Old Son, a bunch of responsibilities, his parents' '"I told you" looks and of course a letter reading "I can't do this anymore". But if he knew what was waiting for him from the start he would never, ever waste a single second to head to the small Village.

#aged up tae #aged down jk #age difference #jimin is taes kid #he's the cutest #bottom kook #orphan kookie #christmas #fluff #angsty #happy ending #slow burn #27k #ao3

whatta man (good man) by aeterisks

Out of all the kinds of blogs Jeon Jeongguk could have run, never in a million years Taehyung would have expected him to have a porn blog.

(Or, Jeongguk runs a porn blog and Taehyung not so accidentally finds it.)

#college #social media #fluff and smut #crack fic #friend to lovers #bottom kook #7k #ao3

Working Conviction by rix

How their trust evolves to go from from Jungkook pointing a loaded gun in Taehyung's face to Taehyung binding Jungkook down and fucking him till he can't see straight.

#mercenary kook #mercenary tae # enemies to fuckbuddies to lovers #smut #guns and violence #bottom kook #9k #ao3

Read All About It by jvante

A star football player and an aspiring journalist fall in love, and make headlines everywhere.

#college au #life through the years #football star tae #writer jungkookie #established relationship #bit angst in between #happy end #bottom kook #realistic description of a relationship #40k #ao3

Cage Match by golden(SlimeQueen)

Taehyung knows he likes the rush of adrenaline that comes from fighting. He likes his knuckles split and stinging, heart pounding in his ribcage, the rush of blood in his ears. Jungkook is new to it all but all he knows is that he likes Taehyung.

#fight club au #hate to love #bottom kook #pining jk #choking #kinky smut #violence #20k #ao3

Just Two Dudes Being Bros by micmicbunjin

"So you two aren't dating?"

"Nah, man, we're just best bros. I mean like, if I was gay, and that's a very big if, then I would be on my knees right now sucking his dick. But I am very straight, so Jeon's dick is nowhere near my mouth."

Jeongguk nods convicingly. "I like pussy."

Namjoon puts his face in his hands and screams.

#gay panic #bros to lovers #denial #college #bottom kook #excessive use of the word bro #7k #ao3

New (Newer) Rules by jvante

Step #1: Don't get involved with the guy your girlfriend cheats with.

Failed step 1.

#bottom sub kook #sub/dom #kinda pwp #humiliation #lingerie #cock stepping #hate to fuckbuddies to lovers #hurt jungkook #108k #ao3

A crow will not pull out the eye of another crow by taetaeggukie

"If you killed me you'd let go of the only chance you've ever had to find your soulmate." That smirk was annoying Jeongguk to no end, he was close to pulling the trigger, but the man deserved something worse than a bullet to his head.

"By now you're only spitting out lies in hopes to be able to save yourself." Jeongguk was the one smirking now. "You know nothing."

"You'd let Kim Taehyung just slip through your fingers like that?"

- in a world where your soulmate's name is written on your wrist, Jeon Jeongguk blindly trusts a pirate captain V in order to find his soulmate and doesn't realize he might fall in love sooner than expected

#soulmates #pirates #bit angst #kidnapping #enemies to lovers #bottom kook #pirate tae #crew bangtan #13k #ao3

whisper me all your secrets by noekkin

Series of prostitute jk and rich man tae who just likes caring for the younger

#cute af #prostitute kook #bottom kook #caring tae #26k #ao3

Sugar and Spice by kkozumes

Jeongguk can't deny that he's attracted to Taehyung. No, he realised he was attracted to him as soon as his car pulled up by the side of the road. Jeongguk appreciated a handsome face and Kim Taehyung was beautiful to him. What he didn't expect however was for the beautiful man with the expensive car to take him back to an equally as expensive apartment away from home, give him new clothes, allow him to stay and then ask if Jeongguk wanted a sugar daddy.

#sugar daddy taehyung #daddy kink #fluff and smut #poor jk #sub kook #bottom kook #23k #ao3

Spy on Me by C_Stress

Jungkooks dad gets killed by a mercenary and he swears to get revenge. What he didn't plan though, was falling in love with said murderer.

When you find out you not only moved in, but fell also in love with your mortal enemy.

#mercenary tae #hitmen au #fluff and smut #flatmates #bottom kook #cute kookie #violence #friends to enemies to lovers #17k #ao3

My Daughters Teacher by Staerrykookah

Jungkook is the single father of a 5 year old named Asami. Taehyung is her kindergarten teacher who thinks the little girl is cute but her dad is cuter.

#kindergarten teacher tae #father jungkook #top kook #falling in love #aged up #5 year old daughter #cute #wattpad

So, pancakes? By Captainotp

„He thought I was a top.“ Jungkook all but whined, hiding his head in Taehyung's chest. „Well what else is new?“

Jungkook struggles to, like, get it, because everyone thinks he's a top, and his roomate Taehyung is more than willing to help. That's it that's the story.

#friends to lovers #bottom kook #roommates # fluff and smut #soft kook #4k #ao3

you the one that I dream about all day by locks

Taehyung finally convinces Jeongguk to do the boyfriend tag/boyfriend does my make up tag.

#soft boyfriends #established relationship #youtuber tae #boyfriend does my make up #domestic fluff #shy kook #nicknames #5k #ao3

The Give and the Take by JKDoYouLoveMe

submission | səbˈmɪʃ(ə)n | noun [mass noun] 1. the action of accepting or yielding to a superior force or to the will or authority of another person. ~ domination | dɒmɪˈneɪʃ(ə)n | noun [mass noun] 1. the exercise of power or influence over someone or something, or the state of being so controlled. ~ Young and inexperienced college student Jeongguk thinks he is a dom. His older and considerably more experienced roommate Taehyung is quite determined to show him that he is, in fact, not a dom. Drama ensues.

#sub kook #dom tae #college #roommates #friends to lovers #more like friends to fuckbuddies to lovers #degradation #humiliation #jk is a brat #subspace #tried rape at one point from another character #57k #ao3

Sing me to sleep (I can't fall without you) by HesterAntoniaDracolas

They call him demon child and think him a monster. He must be, they say, to have survived down there.

Jungkook thinks it’s because the demon actually likes him.

And maybe if you asked him, just maybe, he would admit that he likes him too

#demon tae? #jk is afraid of tae first #falling in love #sweet #8k #ao3

tenacious d in the dick of destiny by jhopeg

In the midst of struggling with debts and empty plastic packets of instant ramyeon, Taehyung and Jeongguk joined forces to put the phrase "sex sells" to good use.

#social media #use of pictures #college au #bottom tae #pornblogger #41k #ao3

tats'n'thots by Deaths_Impala

“Jeon Jeongguk, hear me out.” Taehyung says with a grin. “I feel inspired, and I want to work with you, so how about this: let me tattoo you in any way I want, free of charge – with your input of course.”

#tattoo artist tae #tattooed jungkook #aged up #life through years #smut #bottom kook #cute af #12k #ao3

say you'll stay by ChocolateKookie

Jungkook and Taehyung meet at the beach and they spend the summer holidays falling for each other, but they both know that their romance has an expiry date.

At the end of August, Jungkook is supposed to have gone back home, halfway across the country, so Taehyung expects to go back to school and continue pretending to be straight, as if nothing's changed; playing up to his role as the jerk who's never had a serious relationship. He doesn't know what to do when Jungkook turns up at his school and expects them to pick up from where they left off.

or: the BTS Grease AU that no one asked for! in which Jungkook is Sandy and Taehyung is Danny and they just want to be able to be together but Taehyung is still in the closet which makes things complicated.

#grease au #sandy jk #danny tae #secret relationship #bit homophobia #tae's deep in the closet #cute cute cute #300k #ao3

my guy pretty like a girl (and he got fight stories to tell) by hunnydews

He's dressed in another black sleeveless tank top with deep cuts on the sides, showing off his canvas of a body and all the intricate tattoos he has to offer. His pants are black and fitted as well. He forwent the bandana tonight instead his shaggy brown hair is falling into his eyes. They look like opposites of each other, yet complimentary somehow. Jeongguk likes it.

Alternatively, Jeongguk wears lots of pastels and pink and loves to draw. Taehyung is practically inked from head toe and is in a band. Taehyung broadens Jeongguk's musical horizons and shows him what love is supposed to feel like.

#bamf jk #crossdressing kook #tattooed tae #tae's in a band #past abusive relationship #fluff and smut #healthy relationship #artist jk #falling in love #69k #ao3

Mileage May Vary by rix

Jeongguk is a stripper with a penchant for trouble. Taehyung is curious.

#stripper kook #age difference #bottom kook #smut #falling in love #80k #ao3

Camerman, Swing The Focus by augustdarling

“I thought you were into landscapes recently. Why does it have to be me? More importantly, why does it have to be me naked?”

“Because artists want to capture beautiful things, baby,” Taehyung murmured, leaning down to nibble on his ear. “And you’re the most beautiful thing I know.”

Or:

Taehyung combines his two hobbies: photography and Jungkook. The results are even better than expected.

#basically pwp #bottom kook #dom tae #canon #exhibitionism #humiliation #2k #ao3

You Are My Chosen One by C_Stress

Jungkook starts his first year at Hogwarts..what could possibly go wrong?

#hogwarts au #slytherin jk #gryffindor tae #bottom kook #fluff and smut #secrets #falling in love #45k #a03

Of cigarette smoke and alcohol by fluffy-lychee

Taehyung likes to dye his hair.

Jungkook struggles with the opinion of Taehyungs mother about their relationship.

#no real fluff #nor real smut #but always close enough #2k #aff

pick me up, buttercup by vppa

AU where your soulmate's first words to you will be tattooed on your wrist when you meet.

Which freakin sucks, because Jungkook's forearm will now forever read "Hey baby, if you were a booger, I'd pick you first."

What the fuck, universe.

#fluff #soulmates #crack au #9k #ao3

dark blue (this night's a perfect shade of) by memetaehyung (21cg)

jungkook has never seen the world and taehyung is determined to show him it

#blind jk #fluff #bit smut #bit angst #bottom kook #8k #ao3

Mischief Managed by Vanteblack

Basically a Hate to Love Uni AU but at Hogwarts because I'm a slut for Harry Potter lmao. Also you start at Hogwarts at age 15 instead of 11 so everyone in the story is over age.

#hogwarts au #secret relationship #hate to love #slytherin kook #hufflepuff tae #rated #fluff and smut #20k #ao3

Don't Let Your Love Go To Waste by krscnl

Taehyung and Jungkook meet on Omegle.

#college au #actor tae #writer kook #life through the years #at one point established taekook #41k #ao3

fellas is it gay to want ur hot roommate to dick u down? By hunnydews

Jeongguk tunes them out as they argue, it’s normal and happens often. Instead, he takes out his phone and decides to google "how do you know if your friend is gay for you?"

Jeongguk comes to the realization that he's def not as straight as he thought and he starts to explore that realization with himself and with his hot dormmate/best bro, Taehyung.

The stupid college au no one asked for but i wanted so here we are almost 20k later :)

#college #coming out #excessive use of the word bro #friends to lovers #bottom kook #cuties #19k #ao3

got a kiss (with your name on it) by marienadine

“I just—I just thought, like. Maybe I wouldn’t be so horrible if someone more experienced than me taught me what to do.”

#inexperienced kookie #college #roommates #bros #friends to lovers #first kiss #practicing #bottom kook #11k #ao3

I forget to breathe (when i'm with you) by locks

"Do we have a deal, angel," Taehyung repeats, and Jeongguk can hear that he's losing his patience, hands resting on his hips.

Jeongguk lifts his head, snapping the lid closed. "Pleasure doing business with you, daddy," he nods, sending a grin up to Taehyung who just narrows his eyes at him.

"You're lucky I like you," Taehyung mutters, sounding mildly threatening as he steps over to him and tilts Jeongguk's chin up, leaning down to press a kiss against his lips.

Lucky doesn't even come close.

Or, Jeongguk's trying to figure out how he ended up with a sugar daddy when all he wanted was a couple packets of instant noodles.

#non sexual daddy kink #sugar daddy tae #tattooed kook #aged-up #tae in heels #soft nicknames #praise kink #fluff and smut #bottom tae #sub top jungkook #fashionista tae #realistic description of a relationship #111k #ao3

Suspenders, Daddy Issues & Miracles of Halloween by chimscharli

It's nearly Halloween when Jungkook can't stop stealing glances at Taehyung during practice, and wonders when exactly everything went so wrong. It's nearly Halloween when Jungkook is in a coma, and doesn't want to see Taehyung when he wakes. It's nearly Halloween when Taehyung walks in on Jungkook moaning his name.

It's nearly Halloween, and maybe it's time Jungkook stopped being so afraid. Maybe it's time a miracle happened.

#real daddy issues #and daddy kink #smut #sub jungkook #lots of kissing #happy ending #hate to love #violence #angst #both are football players #17k #ao3

(They Long to Be) Close to You by vantoa

Kim Taehyung is a sassy and talented KBS World Sports reporter. Jeon Jeongguk the most outstanding speed skater in South Korea. They meet, hate each other and then, one eventful day, they like each other, a lot.

#speed skater jungkook #reproter/journalist taehyung #enemies to lovers #bottom tae #misunderstandings #11k #ao3

国王的小丑 by saranghaengbok

When Taehyung had announced that he would steal Yoonji from him, Jungkook had not expected that he would be the one falling for Taehyung, in the end.

#heir jungkook #prince jk #prince tae #enemies to lovers #falling in love #bottom kook #12k #ao3

Rumor Has It by buttstrife

Contrary to popular belief and multiple eyewitnesses, Taehyung did not make out with Jungkook in the pool. And no, they absolutely did not fuck in the shower rooms. Seriously.

#college #baseball player kook #swimmer tae #sut #enemies to friends to lovers #exhibitionism #manhandling #8k #ao3

make this feel like home by aeterisks

Taehyung has spent his whole life looking for excitement, but instead, he ends up finding Jeongguk; somehow, that seems to be even better.

#motorcyclist jk #fluff and smut #bottom tae #44k #ao3

Love Scarred by gjungkook

“You are unbelievable,” scoffed Jeongguk while shaking his head. “I’ve never met anyone who pisses me off as much as you do.”

Taehyung had licked his lips before he smirked, with his hand still around Jeongguk’s wrist, he stepped forward closing the distance between them. “Let me tell you why, it’s simple really...”

“You feel threatened. You know I’m better than you.”

(Jeongguk wants to win against Taehyung at everything. Win their matches in quidditch, win their spontaneous sparring sessions, win his heart— But one day, Jeongguk takes it a little too far with a single curse.)

#enemies to lovers #hogwarts au #angsty #gryffindor jk #slytherin tae #secret fuckbuddies relationship #bottom kook #denial #26k #ao3

Comeback Kids by rix

Taehyung is infuriating and Jungkook's always been easy to rile up. Which isn't the best combination, but also isn't the worst, either.

(or: Taekook as hockey fuckboy rivals)

#icehockey players kook and tae #rivals #enemies to lovers #bottom kook #fluff and smut #34k ao3

#taekook #vkook #fic #au #rec #fic rec #taekook rec #recommendation #masterlist #ultimate #taekook rec list #taekook fic rec

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thenickelportrust · 6 years ago

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Informant Fluff

... or it was meant to be.

@dae-kalina wrote an absolutely fantastic fluff piece for Aelius (one of the ROs from her superb game, Son of Satan: The Mortal Coil- the tumblr for which you can find at @sosthemortalcoil) in return for breaking my heart with some equally fantastic angst pieces, and I wanted to show appreciation by returning the favor.

‘Wanted’ being the key word there.

I am sorry.

The rain lashed at your skin, cutting jagged scars of water over your arms and legs, the howling cry of the wind nipped at your feet. You could feel their grip against the slick rooftop failing you, skidding back and forth, turning what was already a flailing run for your life into even more of a chaotic mess of limbs- each diving through the air in an uncoordinated wildness, but the edge never got any closer. If you could just make it over to the next rooftop you could escape- you could get out of there- but the slick, water-logged roof refuses to let you go, keeping you firmly planted on the spot. Your hands reach out and drag your nails through the air, as if somehow you could find purchase in the unforgiving winds to drag yourself forward. But you’re still not moving. You’re not moving. It’s so far away. You can hear the clang of the metal rooftop door slapping the wall, flung open with ferocious force. You don’t dare a glance backwards, the phantoms already growing in your peripheral. Your legs burn with effort, and if you were to stop you would surely fall. Off the edge of the roof, plummet to the ground below. You can hear the footsteps approaching- heavy thuds in time with your thumping heart. Icy fingertips press into the nap of your neck, claws that dig into the skin around your throat-

You suck in a deep breath, eyes snapping open. Shivering despite the blankets wrapped around you, you pull yourself deeper into them, squeezing a fist around the fabric of the bed as you force your eyes to squeeze closed once more, the sound of your skipping heart fluttering around your ears drains out everything but the sensation of cold sweat soaked into your back. With a sigh, you unfurl your fingers and force your eyes open again. Staring directly into the crack that’s run from your apartment’s floor to its ceiling for as long as you can remember, you manage to dredge the last of your consciousness away from the nightmare. Collecting yourself in the comfort that it isn’t real.

At least not anymore.

Ok, maybe not quite as comforting as you thought. It’s too hot and too cold all at once- you kick the blankets aside and roll to the side of the bed, pressing into the scratchy carpet. Damn, you really need to get a new mattress. Everything hurts- you roll your shoulder, wincing when it cracks as soon as you stretch it out.

The walls creak as you move, and your head snaps to where shadows dart away from your line of vision as your eyes adjust to the dark. The silence seems to whisper, creeping thoughts clinging to the nightmare pressing against your brain with cruel grins that gleam in dark corners. With fumbling hands, you scour the wall for the lightswitch, filling the room with a dull orange glow as the bulb buzzes and flickers to life. The hiss of the faulty electrical system seeps from the walls, and the shadows cast by the light seem to shrink back whenever you dare to look towards them, only to creep up in your peripheral.

No. No you’re fine. You just need to stand- maybe splash some water on your face. Yeah, that will work. Then you can go back to bed and sleep and everything will be fine, right? After all, it was all just a nightmare and who has the same nightmare twice in a row, right? Right. So it’ll be even better if you just… go back to bed.

The shadow from your dresser peeks seems to peek around its edge, the black hand of a spectre crawling out just behind where you can’t see and as soon as you turn to look it slips back into the void.

Just wash off the paranoia first.

The cold medicinally clear white light of the bathroom glints off the stained tiles and semi-opaque glass of the shower. The sink sputters before bursting to life, a steady stream of cold water runs between your palms. Technically, the landlord has warned you to let it run for a minute or two before actually using it, but at this point you don’t care anymore, and bend down past the mirror to rub the cold water over your face- wake up to shed the last threads of the dream before going back to sleep.

The mirror fills with the face you refused to look back at on the rooftop, grinning too wide, one hand reaching towards the back of your nightshirt-

Your head snaps up, eyes darting wide and wild to the mirror but there’s nothing behind you. Of course there’s nothing behind you. Why wouldn’t there be nothing behind you?

The skin around your knuckles stretches into a paler shade as you grip the edge of the sink. With too much force, you shut the water off and shake out your hands, rubbing your wrists. Stepping out of the bathroom you take another longing glance at the bed but by now it’s become eerily clear that you’re not getting any sleep tonight. Not if your own brain won’t let you rest.

You need to- you need to- you need to move. To do something. Just keep yourself distracted. Throw on your coat, go outside, just for a tiny bit. It’s dark but…

Before you even have the time to consider anything else you’re already buttoning up your jacket and heading for the door. Blink, and you’re pushing open the apartment building’s entrance, taking a deep breath of crisp, cold night air. There’s no stars above when your head cranes back, not even rolling clouds turned a sickly yellowish by city lights- it’s just a blank, black canvas stretched seemingly just inches over the spiking buildings. Dark felt tugged taut across the sky where stars and the milky way should have been.

Your feet hit the pavement in a steady, fast-paced rhythm. There’s no real direction that you guide them in, just walking for the sake of walking. For the purpose of hearing that rhythm- unhurried, laid-back, alone.

Alone until it’s broken up by a second step- then a third- echoing one another, chasing yours. Your shoulders rise and you whirl around, gaze skittering about the street- where a young couple crosses across the path, arm in arm, laughing to themself with unconcerned grins. Neither of them are even aware of your existence as they cross in and out of your vision.

Deep breath, exhale, you’re fine. A tad bit paranoid, but fine.

There’s more footsteps, and your eyes continue to play pranks on your brain, putting phantasmal figures just beyond the edge of your sight, circling your brain with the haunting memory of rain against skin and slick shoes slipping over the edge- a jump not quite enough with flailing arms, fingers skimming the very edge of safety before slipping undone and-

You suck in a breath and look up- how far have you been walking? The pads of your feet have started to ache ever so slightly- where are you? You just tried to walk off everything that was still haunting your tired mind, but where did you end up?

Your head swivels until you manage to find a street sign, squinting to read it underneath the harsh glow of a bright streetlamp. Oh you… why did you end up here? Because if you’re here then that means…

There, the red brick building that’s begun to look familiar even shrouded in the dull dark blue hue of night. Your eyes trail up to the window with flowers- lilacs- you’d yet to meet the old lady that grows them but the first time he pointed out his neighbor’s window when you commented on the same flower he kept in a vase he’d mentioned that she was an extraordinarily kind woman, taking in most everyone on the floor as if they were all her grandchild. Receiving flowers on random occasions was just one example of how she cared for everyone.

The memory brings a smile to your face and, before you know it, you’re stepping up to the front buzzer. But- wait- it’s so late, he’s probably not even up. What are you doing? Just go home. You already feel better, so everything should be fine now. You don’t need to bother him by waking him and-

And you’re pressing the buzzer. Guilt gnaws at your stomach when you shove your hand back into the pocket but… You can’t say you’re particularly eager to head back out either. And, hey, maybe he really is asleep and you won’t wake him up so you’ll just turn around and head back home or perhaps call a cab. Might be better not to walk alone at night… even if you… walked alone at night all the way here.

“Hello…?” Fuck, he’s awake. Or he is now. Even through the robotic filter of the buzzer you can hear his voice is heavy and slurred with sleep. Damn, now you feel even more guilty. But it’s too late to turn back now.

“Hey, uh…” What does it say about the two of you that you know where he lives but not his name…? “It’s me. Sorry for waking you up.”

There’s a small pause before you hear the entrance’s lock click open, a quiet “Come on up.” following before the buzzer dies off.

You push open the door and, unlike your apartment which always greets you with the smell of musk and mold, find yourself wrapped in a fading, warm smell- roast chicken? You can see, down the first floor’s hallway past the lobby, light and muffled sound seeping out from the crack beneath one of the doors- sounds like a dinner party. The last shreds of darkness clinging to your coat are quickly cast away as you head for the stairs, those hissing remnants of the nightmare that woke you up already seem like a long lost memory.

Which, of course, means that by the time you actually get to his door, you feel positively foolish for having come here. You really did just need to walk it off, you’re fine, why did you wake him up again?

You try to knock lightly- maybe he passed out again and you should just turn around and leave. You certainly wouldn’t blame him for doing so. What time is it, anyway? One, two in the morning? The sun definitely hasn’t risen yet- is that good or bad?

The door swings open and your thoughts pass through blanky- filtering out in a single moment to be replaced with the twitching beginnings of a smile and a snicker as you look at him- “It’s pitch black outside, do you just sleep with those on?”

The Informant, in just a plain white t-shirt and boxer shorts, reaches up to his face and touches the edge of the sunglasses that, by the way his eyebrows rise in shock, he forgot were there. “I heard the buzzer.”

“And you thought sunglasses first, pants later?” You bite your lip to keep from laughing aloud and waking up everyone on the floor, “Good to know you’ve got your priorities straight.”

He moves to the side, and you step inside, taking in a deep breath and finding the tension that had propped your shoulders up quickly collapses, letting them fall down easily as you exhale. Cinnamon and pine- you should ask him what it is that makes this place smell of that, it’s such a nice smell, might help if you found some way to bring it to your own home.

You hear the Informant, unsuccessfully, stifle a yawn behind you as the door clicks closed. It feels funny to see him without the normally put-together look. Hair disheveled from sleep, dressed so casually, padding slowly to the kitchen- a far cry from the man you met what feels like so long ago now, a dark figure in the corner of a dimly lit bar selling you precious information. Now he just opens up the cabinet, pulling down a little container to wordlessly offer you some tea. “What kind?”

“Cinnamon.”

Well, that explains the smell. “Sure.”

You turn your back and look around the apartment- it’s all relatively plain. A long ruby red couch facing a simple television- the dust on the screen makes you think it’s not used very much. The coffee table in front of it is piled with different books- despite the fact that you can already easily spot two smaller bookshelves filled as well. That’s, perhaps, the one outstanding thing about this room, and something that stood out to you before as well. You walk around the couch, trailing the edge of the blanket folded over its back with your fingers, before stooping down to look at the book on the top of the coffee-table pile. “Their Eyes Were Watching God?”

“Zora Neale Hurston,” The Informant affirms with a slow nod, “You read it?”

“In high school,” You tap the book to your palm, “Usually I find that people tend to stray away from the ‘classics’ once they realize they’re no longer going to have to write an essay… Actually, even then, usually people tend to stray away from the ‘classics’ and just read a synopsis that analyze it all for them.”

You see the edge of his lips quirk up, “Which is why I’m reading it now.”

“No,” You gasp holding the book in front of your mouth in shock, “Don’t tell me that out of all the people you were someone who never did your reading assignments.”

He shrugs loosely, pouring steaming water into two cups.

“Here I would’ve bet that they had to create a whole curriculum for you.” You set the book to the side as he walks over and passes you one of the mugs. You wrap your fingers around it- savoring the feeling of warmth returning to your night-chilled fingertips. Taking a whiff of the tea you’re assured once more that this must be where the smell of the apartment comes from.

Cinnamon.

“I wasn’t the most obedient kid,” He admits, leaning back against the couch, you follow suit, letting your gaze roam over the rest of the books on the table as you take a long, slow sip from the cup- letting the sweet spice tea chase away the last of the cold in your bones. “But I found a couple of them in a bookstore recently and I thought it was a shame I never gave any of them a chance.”

“Look at you,” You purr with a grin, “You’re almost a mature adult- if it weren’t for your priorities.” The Informant turns to you with a quirked brow, to which you just point up to your eyes- the glasses. He snorts, hiding his smirk from behind the cup.

You sigh heavily, leaning back into the couch, your eyes start to flutter closed- the lids growing heavier, you feel yourself sliding slowly to the side. Your hands go loose in your lap- but just before the cup can tip over it’s snatched up, and you manage to shake yourself awake just enough to see the Informant brush aside some of his books and make room for the mugs on the table.

“Sorry I- damn- and here I thought I wasn’t going to be able to sleep again.”

He pauses at that, shooting you a questioning glance that you choose not to meet. Suddenly, the far window enraptured you just enough that you don’t have to meet the question that lies behind his glasses. “You know I was thinking about how weird it is that I still don’t know your name… I mean, I know where you live, I know that you were a surprisingly rebellious kid, I know that you love cinnamon tea and read more books than anybody else I know but I still don’t even know what to call you.”

He clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably on the couch, “Well it wasn’t exactly either your choice or mine that you ended up knowing where I live…” He trails off, “We didn’t exactly know where else to bring you- you were bleeding out and we couldn’t exactly leave you there to wait for an ambulance…”

You grit your jaw, squeezing your fingers into the palm of your hand- as if you could squeeze away the feeling of the concrete edge of the next roof slipping just beyond your grasp.

Still you force a laugh- dry and fake, not even a enough to convince yourself, “You’re telling me. I’m the one still waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat over it all before somehow ending up in front of your door even though I really didn’t mean to come here I just wanted to go somewhere safe and my home wasn’t really feelin’ it but then again I’m fairly sure that my landlord’s backup plan is to start reaching out to movie producer’s to advertize it for horror movie films so big surprise there, yeah?”

You fold your arms over yourself, digging your teeth into the side of your cheek until it stings and you’re about half sure you draw some blood. You feel the couch dip down when the Informant moves towards you, but you’re head is kept down and away, focused on not shaking like some… ridiculous child and maintaining whatever dignity it is you have left. If any.

Still, all that washes away when his hands brush over your cheeks, gently nudging your head up to meet his gaze. You lean into the touch, your jaw relaxing- though your fluttering heart doesn’t slow, it feels calmer than before, not quite so violent against your ribcage. You manage to detangle your hands from around yourself, instead you reach forward- and with just the slightest tug against his shirt the Informant pulls you into a tight embrace. You bury your face into his neck and tangle your hands around his still-mussed-up hair, breathing deeply to steady yourself.

Cinnamon.

“You’re safe.”

Two words. Two words and you feel like crying. Or laughing. Or just… just…

You end up doing a mix of both, hiding it all in the crook of his neck. The Informant doesn’t let you go until you’re done, rubbing little circles into the small of your back with the pad of his thumb. Even by the time you finish, he doesn’t let go- and neither do you, glad that he seems, at the very least, willing to let you hold on for just a moment longer.

Just a moment.

You just need a moment.

He pulls back first, your hands only reluctantly sliding from his back to his shoulders, still unwilling to let go completely- lucky for you, he simply moves to hold your face again, brushing aside streaks of tears with the back of his hand. Even past the dark glasses you can spot his eyes roaming around your face. The smile comes easier this time, much more natural. “I’m okay, now.” It feels true. A long breath out as the weight lifts from your chest.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” You let yourself lean into his touch again- you don’t bother to suppress the joy when he doesn’t pull away, you don’t even bother to try and question it. It just… feels natural, the right thing to do. “I know I woke you up when I came here and I should apologize but… Selfish as it may sound, I’m actually really not all that sorry.”

“I’m glad you did.” It’s hard to say why either of your voices drop into a whisper- the moment feels… fragile, as if the slightest word said too-loud or misplaced breath could break it. And perhaps it’s because of that feeling that you wish your heart were quieter, too, thumping heavily in your chest. Though it’s not like before, it’s nothing like before.

You reach over to the corner of his sunglasses- ridiculous sunglasses- and gently pull them away from his face. The Informant does move when you place them to the side, unable to school the small smile from your face when you can finally see his full face. His look mirrors your own, and you reach over- brushing the edge of your fingers underneath his uncovered eyes, over the curve of his ear, down to his jaw, along the bottom line of his lips. Your thumb hesitates there, eyes flicking up to meet his eyes again as you give his lower lip a little tug with the pad of your finger. He curls his hands around the curve of your jaw, and soon the both of you press forward- brushing your lips against his as you loop your arms around his neck.

The night may have started in a cold sweat, flailing and frantic, but this was slow, soft, the gentle brush of your lips before you pulled away- eyes still closed, to breathe in deeply through your nose. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, mouth curving into a smile.

He tastes like cinnamon.

#shorts #the informant #model citizens unmasked #i cant write fluff #apparently #w h o o p s

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artemismareaelin · 6 years ago

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So. Kingdom of Ash.

*screaming and crying* AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

KoA gave me all the feels, and now I am suffering from the worst book hangover ever. So I’m going to scream into the abyss we call Tumblr and maybe someone will be interested. Obviously there are spoilers, and I’ll try to keep it as chronological as possible.

So the first part was just tears. So much crying. Why. WHy aLL ThE sUFfeRINg? Aelin is so strong. I mean, that’s the reason I love her, but Kingdom of Ash just made me love her even more. The scariest part for me was when Cairn almost broke her spine, because she was just so close to that line and I NEED HER TO BE OKAY. The part when Connall died and they made Aelin kneel in the glass was simultaneously awful and awesome. When she flipped Maeve off, I was just AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. There are going to be a lot of ‘AHHH’s in this post. I also panicked a lot when Maeve threatened to get the collars, because from there things would have just spiraled downwards. Obviously I was worried when Cairn melted her hands, as well, because how tragic would it be if she was afraid of her own hands?

Aedion is such a jerk to Lysandra during all this. I mean, I love him, but seriously, man. She was doing the right thing by her queen and her country. Honestly, the feminism in this book was just beautiful.

And then Aelin escaped and it was just FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF. It was so heart-wrenching when she was screaming at them to take the irons off. Partly because I don’t think we’ve ever seen Aelin like that. She was so far gone after that it was just more sadness. But Rowan was so nice and gentle (I mean, Rowan? Nice? Never thought that would happen) and it was so CUUUUUUUUTE. Personally, I love the relationship Fenrys and Aelin built up. I loved having so much of the cadre in this book. Cairn’s death was awesome. I know a lot of people predicted that he would die like that, and honestly I’m so glad he did. I sort of wish Aelin got that kill, but I’m also glad Rowan did. There’s so much to talk about! I’m still at the very beginning!

Manorian. *sighs*. Manon, we all know you have feelings. It’s no secret. Just tell Dorian you care, and this would all be so much easier.

Now Elorcan. SO BEAUTIFUL. Again with the feminism, I’m so glad Elide put her Queen above her significant other, but I’m equally glad she forgave Lorcan in the end.

I loved the rings Aelin got herself and Rowan. It was so symbolic to their relationship and her healing, that she trusts him that much and wants them to keep some human traditions, which is symbolic to her battle with being human versus fae. I also love that Aelin has a green one and Rowan has a red one. :).

Lysaedion again. When Lysandra nearly died, and Aedion realised how wrong he was, I thought I wanted them to get back together and then Lysandra yelled at him and I was like YAS QUEEN. I DIDN’T KNOW I WANTED THIS UNTIL IT HAPPENED. So yeah, I’m glad she held her ground and told him that she couldn’t be treated like that and take him back so easily. Girl power.

OHMYGODS I HAVENT MENTIONED CHAOLRENE AND THEIR BABY YET. OHMYGODS. SO CUUUTE. SHIIIIIP. So many people turned up in this book, and everything just came together. I’m a little disappointed Nox didn’t have a bigger role, but I appreciate that he was in it. And Ren and Darrow and Falkan and all these minor characters where involved.

Not to mention Nesryn and Sartaq. They didn’t get much mention, but I liked the internal battle Nesryn had between her love for Sartaq and the power she doesn’t want.

Evangeline was so cute and so brave. I love her so much. I love that someone so young had such a big role in the war, and that she melted the heart of even Darrow.

I have to write about when Aelin reunited with everyone, starting with Chaol and his crew. I’m sososo glad that Chaol and Aelin had salvaged their relationship, and she was crying when he started walking and AHHHHHHHH. And everyone was so accepting of Yrene!

The death of Elide’s uncle was so epic and evil. I think Sarah tied all the loose ends really well, including this one. Elide got to move on from the trauma her uncle caused, simultaneously showing Aelin’s skill in awesomeness and manipulation.

When Dorian made that bargain with Maeve. *facepalm*. I’m glad it ended up the way it did, but that was scary. And when he almost killed her, my first instinct was ‘YESSSS. END THIS.’ and my second was ‘NO! THAT’S AELIN’S KILL! GET AWAY!’ More on Maeve’s death later, that was one of my favorite parts.

When Aelin evaporated that dam. And we all thought she was too scared to, but Aelin would never let her fear get in the way of her people. It was so heart-breaking when Fenrys told Rowan what they did to her and why he thought she wasn’t using her magic. Everyone is just suffering. There is no one that went through the entirety of the book with out pain and loss, and Rowan suffered some of the most emotional pain out of everyone and he was still so supportive of Aelin, and never once crossed the over-protective line. Anyway, when they said Aelin was tunneling her power for THREE MONTHS, I thought back to when Rowan was like ‘It takes me a whole day to reach the bottom of my magic,’ and Aelin was all surprised.

NOW BACK TO ELORCAN. SHE FREAKING RAN IN THE PATH OF A BREAKING DAM FOR LORCAN. AND HE WAS SAYING ‘LEAVE ME!’ AND I WAS THINKING NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO AND SHE DIDN’T AND SHIIIIIIIIIIIIP. Gods, I’m so glad Aelin saved them.

I wonder what Elide’s going to do about that ankle. I think she’ll get Yrene to fix it.

Now I’m going to write about the Thirteen and Abraxos. I thought Abraxos was going to die, and I had no idea how connected I was to him! And Manon’s emotions (finally) came out. And then Abraxos was fine, but the Thirteen went back. The definition of loyalty. And Asterin. TEARS. WHYYYYYYY.

Okay, the Lock. When Dorian turned up with the keys, I’m pretty sure Rowan summed up my feelings pretty well. I was thinking ‘I have no reason to hate you, Dorian, but I really hate you right now’ and I was both proud and angry at Aelin. I was all panicky again when they all voted to do it straight away. The moment when Chaol, Dorian and Aelin were all standing at the cross roads to Endovier was so beautiful. Back where it all started. And then Rowan convinced Aelin to do it with Dorian and I was so relieved that she might live, and from there it was just a roller coaster of emotions. We finally found out the King’s name (!!!!!!!!), and then Aelin pushed Dorian out and Rowan felt the bond strain and I felt so sorry for Rowan. I was terrified Aelin was going to die, and Rowan was panicking and Dorian was panicking and AHHHHHHHHH. And then Aelin bargained with them and I was just proud again, and they killed Elena and I was so devastated for her mate. And then Aelin sent all the gods to hell, and I was so happy again, and then she was falling through the worlds and FEYRE IS PREGNANT AND RHYS SAVED HER. RHYS SAVED HER LIFE AND I WAS CRYING SO MUCH AND AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. That scene killed me a little. So many emotions.

Now the war. When Ren’s mate died, it was so so sad because we’re all so desperate for Rowaelin to be together but it doesn’t always happen, and this highlighted that. The cadre was awesome. I LOVED ALL THE FATHER SON RELATIONSHIPS IN THIS BOOK. When Aelin met Chaol’s dad and everyone just kept burning him (metaphorically) it was so awesome. And Gavriel.

Gavriel.

Right when Aedion forgave him. Aedion is such an idiot sometimes. I love him to bits, but man, does he have a temper. It was sososososososo cute when Evangeline wanted Aedion to be her dad or her brother, and that she looks up to him so much. CUUUUUUUUUUUUTE.

Then Aelin was fighting Maeve and Erawan with nothing left, because she would do anything for her people. Maeve was all ‘there are no gods to help you now’ and then Aelin, witty as always-

‘I am a god.’

The most beautiful line. *sighs*.

So Erawan goes off and fights Yrene and everyone and SO PROUD. YRENE IS SO AMAZING.

Back to Maeve. Again, I was scared when she got in Aelin’s head and Rowan, Fenrys and Lorcan were being tortured which we all know is the best way to get Aelin to do what you want. Then, the next awesome quote. Fenrys stabs Maeve and she’s begging (yes! Beg!) Aelin to banish her, just take the sword out. And Aelin says-

‘Then go to hell.’

AHIOHGOSEGNOSGNENO. And kills her.

The coronation, when Aedion swears the blood oath and Rowan and Aelin dance and its all fluffy, and then it keeps getting fluffier and the court is back together and then they have to say goodbye to everyone and then everything is good.

*screaming*.

I haven’t covered the half of it, but I got some of the feels out, so that’s good. I’m so devastated it’s over but so happy there was a happy ending. If you read this far, wow. If not, sorry to make you scroll so far!

#kingdom of ash spoilers #koa spoilers

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spaceasianmillennial · 6 years ago

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Nanowrimo2018: My teacher’s prompt: There Are No Queens Allowed

Children’s book writer Caron Levis gave me this prompt for class:

A. Sachar begins Holes, exactly in the PLACE where his idea began: the waterless lake of Camp Greenlake. He describes it and asks a question of the reader which he had also aked himself: Why would anybody go to Camp Greenlake? He then he answers it, and asks more questions (Why is Stanley in trouble? Cause of his no-good-pig-stealin… and keeps on going.) Using a setting real or imagined that has always intrigued you, introduce yourself and your reader to a story by asking and starting to answer questions that arise from the place itself

How about I do my homework here on Tumblr?

–

Anyone educated with books, mostly noblemen, knew that there were queens in Guardia. Though if you were to visit the castle, there were no portraits of Queens.

Why are there no queens? Where did the queens go?

The last queen was eight generations ago down the royal bloodline.

It started with Princess Grace. Princess Grace was not from Guardia. But one day Guardia’s court visited her parents’ castle and next thing she knew, she was married to Prince Herold of Guardia and taken away.

Then Prince Herold became King Herold, so Princess Grace became Queen Grace. It was a run-of-the-mill political marriage, giving them alliances to her kingdom.

She was quite the flower, fragile, sickly. She could not give heirs, though that was all right as King Herold had mistresses to give him children, desirable heirs.

He loved her enough to get her the best doctors, the mage therapists, and healers. Soon, the Fragile Flower was out in the world, riding carriages, past the mansions past the hovels, where the peasants kissed the ground her carriage ran over.

Seeing their lack of prosperity, the next time she left the castle, she had a sack of her wedding jewelry and scattered it to peasants, her diamond rings, her pearls, even the satins from her nightgown.

But the king sent his tax-collectors to retrieve her finery from the peasants. “Only royals are entitled to the objects. You must not break order, dear wife.” He wagged his finger at her.

They called her the Blossoming Queen, for this Fragile Flower seemed rosy when she went out to scatter gold. She was now scattering gold if she could not give her jewelry. It was taxpayers money she lived on, so tax money she’ll give to those who were taxed. But the King doubled the taxes, as a war raged on in a faraway country.

The Queen lived tolerably with him for quite some time. But then one day, she left the bedroom chamber, red dripping from her nightgown and the King was found cold in red sheets.

At her public trial, the court was shocked by the reaction of the people, that they loved her this much that they did not see her murder as a sin. She must have bewitched them. They needed a hundred guards to herd them away from her public execution.

The Queen never got her chance to rule as she was burned. The heir of her King had her portraits stripped away. The portraits of Guardia’s other Queens also bore Queen Grace’s punishment, tossed into the fire with Queen Grace. Queens were now considered curses to Guardia. Queens could sow seeds of discontent in people.

That is why Guardia does not have queens. Firstborn sons had mistresses, sometimes married them in secret, but they did not have queens. The court prophet wrote on his scroll that queens will doom Guardia, and everyone soon believed they didn’t need queens.

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REBLOGS AND COMMENTS APPRECIATED

#fairy tale #queen #prompt #nanowrimo2018 #princess

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buckyscrystalqueen · 7 years ago

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Half Blood, Whole Heart: Part 17

Pairings: Jax x Reader, sister Winchester!reader- SOA/SPN Crossover

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, torture.

Word Count: 2,410

A/N: So I decided to repost my novel- the story that someone stole from my old blog and put up on Wattpad. PLEASE don’t be an asshole and steal my stories. It CRUSHED me when it happened and almost ran me off Tumblr.

Half Blood, Whole Heart Masterlist Aesthetic by @ravenangel33

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The torture never stopped. Day in and day out for years you were cut, filleted, burned, beaten; ripped apart and put back together. You thought of only Jax and Thomas every single day; wondering if Jax was going to be OK without you, wondering if your son would grow up calling someone else mommy. The more you thought about your boys, the harder the demons would beat you but you never once let that stop you. You refused to let them break you no matter how much you wanted to just give up.

“How are they?” A cocky British voice said one random day. It took you a moment to place the voice and even longer to weakly hold your head up and look at the King of Hell.

“Good, sir. We are getting very positive feedback…”

“Crowley…” You croaked only to have another layer of flesh peeled from your arm. The man only glanced over at you for a moment as he walked by before he came to a dead stop and spun toward you.

“Bloody hell? Why was I not told we had a fucking Winchester?” He roared as he snapped. The demon that was carving you up disappeared as Crowley stormed over to you. “How long have you been here?” He asked gently as he healed the seemingly never ending wounds on your body.

“Don’t… know.” You rasped, your voice dry and cracking from lack of water. “7… 8 years maybe?”

“Bollocks.” He grumbled as he snapped. The straps holding you to the rack disappeared and he carefully lifted you up. “I will take care of you lot in a moment.” He snapped at the demons as he stormed out of the room with you. You blacked out for a while because when you came too, you were lying on black silk sheets as Crowley sat down on the bed next to you.

“Am I dead?” You groaned as he handed you a cup of water.

“Yes and no.” You drank greedily and he refilled the glass before he explained. “Your soul is in hell which means you are dead however you are still tethered to your body almost in limbo which is why you are able to still remember your boys despite the torture. Meaning…”

“You can send me home.” You said, your voice holding a lot more conviction as you finished the second cup of water. “How long have I been gone?” He shook his head as he took the empty water glass from you.

“Apparently my demons weren’t fantastic at keeping records so I have no idea how long I have had you. My guess from what you have told me is about a month.”

“The witch…” You said as you pushed yourself up in bed and you grit your teeth as every inch of your body protested. “Crowley, I tried…”

“The boys got her, darling. I’m startled that they didn’t inform me that they had lost you, however.” You started pushing the blankets back and gingerly scooted to the side of the bed.

“Look, I really appreciate you saving my ass but I need to get home to my son. Can you…?” Crowley nodded as he moved to stand in front of you.

“You should rest…”

“No.” You interrupted him as you found your feet and grabbed his arm to keep you upright as tears fell down your cheeks. “Please…” You looked up at him as your bottom lip trembled and he sighed.

“Alright. I’ll send you back to your body. I’ll pick you up topside and take you back home.” You nodded as you stretched up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you.” You saw a slight blush creep to his cheeks and his brow furrowed.

“Alright, enough of that. This will hurt.” He placed his hand in the middle of your chest and with one last look in your eyes, he shoved you hard. Your sore body felt like it was soaring through fire for a moment before you came to a sudden stop. You gasped and opened your eyes. You took a moment to adjust to the suddenly too bright light as you tried to figure out where you were.

You were in a basement but it appeared as if the house on top of it was burned down. There were large chunks of charred plywood beams littering the expanse before you and you realized you were in the basement of the Amityville look alike house. You looked up at the spot where the hole you fell through was at the same time Crowley looked down at you.

“Plan on living in a hole then?” He snarked and you scowled.

“Figured I could decorate it with chunks of flesh like my last living space.” You crawled through the charred remains of the house as quickly as your body would allow as Crowley waited.

“Do you Winchesters ever ask for help?” He asked as you brushed your hands off on your jeans and walked through the remaining part of the door frame.

“Nope, dad wouldn’t allow it.” You looked up at him with a small smile and he chuckled.

“Your dad was an interesting man. I met him, time or two in my day.” You stopped in front of him with your eyebrow cocked.

“You knew my dad?” He shrugged as if uninterested.

“Yes, well he spent many years in hell before your brothers rescued him.” Your stomach turned at the memory of what you had just gone through and what your dad and brothers had been through in hell and you cleared your throat and fought back tears.

“Oh.. Umm can you just take me to Gemma’s. I can walk if it’s…” You didn’t have time to close your eyes before Crowley snapped and everything around you shifted. The trip was much shorter than the one to Ireland so it seemed like only the blink of an eye before you were in your mother-in-law’s driveway. You threw your arms around Crowley’s neck and whispered thank you before running to the house.

“Mom?!” You called out as you pushed open the unlocked front door. “Thomas?” You heard a loud screech that was followed by a glass shattering and a chorus of ‘mama’ repeatedly. Sobs of joy racked your body as you ran toward the kitchen just as Gemma was stepping into the hall.

“Oh, my girl.” She sobbed as the two of you hugged. “You’re alive. Thank God, you’re alive.” She pulled away and pushed you toward the kitchen where your son was attempting to climb out of his high chair to get to you. He already looked so much bigger than when you last saw him.

“How long have I been missing?” You asked through your tears as you picked him up and held him in your arms.

“Three weeks, four days. Sam called the shop and told me kind of what happened…” She lit up a cigarette and sat down across from you at the long table she used for family dinners. “He told us to just tell everyone you must have been missing because they couldn’t find your body after.” You nodded as you kissed your son’s forehead.

“So, long story short; we went after a witch who caught me off guard. She tried to kill me but couldn’t. My soul was in hell but from what Crowley said my body was like in limbo which is why the boys must not have been able to find me. He rescued me last night in hell time which is much faster than our time. To me, I was gone for like 8 years.” She gasped as you grabbed her pack of smokes off the table and lit yourself one.

“Are you alright?” You nodded as you took a long drag and looked down at your pride and joy.

“Just glad I didn’t miss everything. How’s Jax?” You asked as you looked up at her. She exhaled toward the ceiling and shook her head.

“A wreck. I actually have my visit today so we better get you home to shower and change quickly so you can take the spot. No offense, you smell like burnt hair and road kill.” You nodded with a weak laugh and took another long drag of your cigarette before putting it out.

“Thanks mom. For watching Thomas when I couldn’t.” She waived you off as you put your son on your hip and got up from the table while forcing yourself to keep your soreness from showing on your face.

“I knew you were coming home. You’re a Teller.” She came over and wrapped you in a hug. “Just don’t ever do that to us again.”

——

“Babe?” You looked up from the book you were reading your son at the sound of your husbands voice and tears immediately filled your eyes. You stood up so quickly, you sent the chair you were sitting in next to Gemma toppling over as you ran across the room and leapt into your husband’s arms. You cried against his neck as the two of you held each other as close as physically possible.

“Ground, Teller.” You heard a guard snap and you forced yourself to unwrap your legs from his waist as he crashed his lips to yours.

“You’re never going hunting again.” He said against your lips and you nodded as he cupped your cheeks in his hands.

“Trust me. I agree to that. I just got back from spending 8 years in literal hell.” He gave you one more kiss before he pulled back to say hello to his mom and his son. The three of you sat at a corner table and you told them everything that happened since the last time you were there as Thomas played with toys contently. You smiled to yourself when you realized you really did have an amazing child.

“Yea, no more hunting.” Jax said as you finished your story and Gemma nodded in agreement.

“Believe me. After that experience, I will stick to just being a mom and a wife. I’ve got enough excitement in my life. I don’t need anymore.”

~~~~~~ LATE JANUARY 2010 ~~~~~

'Why does my house smell like boy?!' You groaned as you tried to clean around Thomas who had every toy he owned spread out around the house and Opie, Kozik, and Chibs who were helping carry in new furniture to finally replace the stuff that had been broken during the Djinn incident seven months before. You were ripping the contents out of your closet to wash everything when you found the main culprit. You crinkled your nose at the black back pack and carried it at arms length as Thomas came running into your room.

"Mommy fss." He said as he showed his fish bath toy. You smiled at just how adorable your child was as you picked him up and put him on the bed.

"Yea, baby boy. That's Thomas' fish; your fish." You opened the backpack and cringed as you were assaulted with the smell of body sweat and a hint of coppery blood. "Oh baby boy, your daddy is gunna be the death of me." You said as you grabbed the laundry basket and Thomas dive bombed the bed repeatedly with his fish in reply.

"Did you know I asked him four times if he unpacked this bag?" You cooed more to yourself as you started throwing salvageable clothes into the laundry. "He swore up and down that he would take care of it and yet here mommy is..." Your words were lost when a red ribbon tied around some letters caught your eye. Your stomach turned at the idea that someone was writing love letters to your husband.

"He better pray..." You whispered as you pulled the letters out of the bag. You exhaled the breath you didn't realize you were holding as you read over the note on the very top of the stack.

Jackson,

The truth about your father is in these letters. You should know John like I did.

-Maureen

You thumbed through the stack to see at least two dozen letters. With a sigh, you turned to put them in Jax's bed side table drawer for him to read before curiosity got the better of you. You sat down on the bed and pulled one at random out of the ribbon.

"One little peek won't hurt, right baby?" You asked your son as you opened the letter. Seeing a story, Thomas abandoned the fish and crawled over to sit in your lap. With a quick glance toward the hall and the nursery door, you recited the three little pigs as best as you could from memory as you read the letter to yourself. You couldn't stop your hands from shaking as you read the most damning accusations about your mother and father-in-law. When you finished the first one, you reached to read the next one as Kozik, a new patch from Tacoma called your name.

"Where do you want this?" He asked as he walked into the bedroom with a floor length mirror. You held up a finger as you faked a coughing fit to cover up the sound of the letters hitting the floor so he didn’t see them.

“Umm... ehhem. Just lean it by that dresser." He nodded as you went back to tossing clothes from the backpack into the laundry basket.

"You OK? Need a glass of water or something." You giggled and shook your head.

"I'll grab it in a second. What I need is a husband that doesn't leave old sweaty clothes in a backpack in my closet." Kozik laughed as he turned and headed out of your room.

"The day Jax cleans up after himself is the day that I'll become Midas with his gold fingers.” He called out to you. When you were sure the coast was clear, you put your son on the bed and grabbed the letters. You looked around the room for some place to stash them and decided for that moment, under your mattress was the best place until you could come up with something better. You had no idea what could be in the rest of those letters but one thing was for sure. Maureen hid them from Gemma in Jax’s bag for a reason and you were going to find out exactly what your family was hiding.

Part 18

#Jax x Reader #Half Blood Whole Heart #SOA/SPN crossover

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pattonly-absurd-blog · 7 years ago

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Super Sides Chapter 1: Suspicions

Uh so I wrote more of this

Prologue Next

Warnings: Fire, car crash, mentions of blood and injury, mentions of violence, anxiety attacks (let me know if I need to add anything)

When people thought of the word strange, Virgil definitely came to mind. He only left the safety of his room during the day to go to work, he seemed to blend into the shadows and appear without warning, he constantly had bags under his eyes, and nobody really knew anything about him. He worked at Feline Good, a pet store that was known for being the friendliest place in town, which was not the sort of place you’d expect to find someone who made bitter comments about everything he could. Nobody really knew what to make of him, and everyone felt nervous around him.

The nervous part made sense, at least. Virgil was what society would call “gifted”, and not the intellectual way. In recent years, several people had started showing up with enhanced abilities, ones that science couldn’t explain. Gifted people were able to defy the laws of physics and do things that shouldn’t have been humanly possible. Virgil, for example, “controlled” fears. Controlled in quotation marks because he wasn’t really in control of his powers.

Virgil was constantly aware of every fear felt around him, from the smallest fear of spiders to the largest case of PTSD. It was enough to give anyone an anxiety disorder, which Virgil had been diagnosed with when he was only nine. Whenever Virgil became too panicked, he could accidentally cause people around him to hallucinate, or to be unable to focus on anything but their fears, similar to a panic attack. He wasn’t a fun person to be around, Virgil knew.

Spending his time listening to music, writing angsty poetry, scrolling through Tumblr, or complaining about his job, Virgil never expected anything interesting to happen to him. Sure, he was gifted, but things never happen to people like Virgil.

He leaned against a shelf of dog food at Feline Good. He groaned internally; someone had made a complete mess of the aisle looking for a specific brand and bag size. They ignored the fact that by moving things around, the underpaid employees would have to put it back. He started sorting out the bags when footsteps approached him from behind.

“Hey, kiddo, want some help?” Patton bent down and started sorting the bags, not waiting for a reply. Virgil sighed, but secretly, he was thankful for the help. He would have been there all night without his coworker’s aid.

“I’m not a kiddo, Patton, we’re the same age.”

“Nonsense, you can still be my kiddo no matter how old you are.” Patton grinned. “So, how’s it going?”

“I mean, I’m here, so...” Patton laughed at that.

“Yeah, I know working isn’t fun, but I’ll help you with this and you can go home, okay?”

Patton was the only person on the planet who ever talked to Virgil, or who helped him with anything. They had become friends a few months earlier, when Virgil had an anxiety attack. He had made a pretty big mistake and another coworker had yelled at him, but Patton helped calm him down. He had stayed with Virgil until he knew that Virgil was okay.

The two finished picking up and they walked out to their cars together. “See you tomorrow, Virgil!” Patton called as he left.

Once Patton was out of sight, Virgil let himself smile. He didn’t think that Patton quite thought that they were friends, but it was nice to have someone to talk to.

His life was pretty boring and average, but Virgil didn’t mind. In fact, he was okay with just existing.

Of course the stupid fire changed everything.

Virgil pulled up to his apartment to find it in flames. Cursing the whole world internally, he watched as three figures dressed in masks and capes ran around, saving people from the fires and shouting things at each other.

The heroes had appeared a few months ago. They were three gifted people who just decided one day that they were going to help out anyone they could. They were like real life Avengers, and they were treated like celebrities around the globe. Since their appearance, there had also been a rise in the number of gifted people, some using their powers to help others, but others becoming criminals who the police had a hard time stopping without help. It was something straight out of a movie, but the world had just learned to accept it.

The fire lit up the entire neighborhood. So much fear was present, and Virgil could hear the internal screams echoing around him. Did my son make it out? Where will we go? Virgil could feel himself struggling to breathe and felt his body shaking. He was having an anxiety attack. He crouched on the ground, shoving his hands against his ears and closing his eyes, trying to block everything out.

He was faintly aware of someone crouching beside him. He heard a voice, and he forced himself to focus on it.

“Can you breathe? Are you hurt?”

Virgil shook his head slightly.

“Are you having a panic attack?”

Well, technically it was an anxiety attack, but close enough. He nodded.

“Okay, is it alright if I touch you?”

Virgil thought for a moment and then nodded. He felt gentle hands lift him up. Then, one of his arms was pulled around someone’s neck while that person supported him with their other arm wrapped around him. “I’m going to bring you somewhere a little safer, okay?”

Away from the noise. Virgil nodded.

He didn’t remember walking, but they were suddenly much farther away from the fire. The person set him down on a bench and sat next to him.

“Okay, try to breathe. Can you do that? Can you breathe in for four seconds?”

Virgil nodded. He was familiar with the technique that the stranger was using. It was the same one Patton had used to help him more than once.

The stranger counted out loud as Virgil inhaled and exhaled. Virgil’s vision was returning, and he realized that the stranger who was helping him was Morality. That explained why he didn’t remember walking to the park, Morality had super speed.

“Any better?” Morality asked a few minutes later. Virgil nodded.

“Th-thank you...”

Morality smiled, his eyes lighting up. “You’re welcome! Uh, what’s your name?”

“Virgil.”

“Okay, Virgil. Was that your apartment building that was on fire?” Morality shifted to give Virgil a little more space, which he appreciated.

Virgil nodded.

“Well, I have some good news, the fire wasn’t that bad. It was mostly contained to one room, and it didn’t cause much destruction before me and my friends got there. I don’t think that it’s going to leave anyone homeless.”

Virgil sighed out of relief. He hadn’t let himself think about where he’d go if he had to.

“Are you ready to go back? I need to make sure that everyone is safe, and I don’t think you want to be left out here.” Morality stood up.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Thanks.”

Morality put his arm under Virgil’s, and a moment later they were standing in front of the building again. There were fire trucks and sirens and everything was loud, but Virgil was in control. People were still panicking, but it was substantially weaker than it had been ten minutes ago.

He turned around to thank Morality, but he was gone.

The next time something interesting happened to Virgil, he had been at work. Patton was standing at the register, checking people out, while Virgil was helping a lady find the type of cat food she was looking for. The shelf started tipping forward, about to crush both Virgil and the lady, when they were suddenly knocked out of the way. When Virgil opened his eyes, he saw Morality standing in front of him.

“Are you two okay?” He asked after the shelf landed with a loud crash. Virgil groaned internally, but was grateful that Morality had saved their lives.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. The fear of being crushed to death echoed throughout the room, but Virgil didn’t let himself focus on it. He forced himself to breathe.

“Okay, I gotta run,” Morality stated with a laugh, and he ran off.

Patton had disappeared.

Virgil only knew one person on the planet who enjoyed puns like the one Morality just made, and he was currently missing. Virgil was probably overthinking, but he couldn’t shake the idea from his head.

The third incident happened a few months later. It had actually snowed in Florida, and the ground was icy. Virgil was going to be late for work, and he went too fast. He started to slide off of the road just before he reached the pet store, but his car door was thrown open and someone pulled him out of his car and away from the wreck. It was, of course, Morality, the only person on the earth who could move that fast and who had such an obsession with saving Virgil.

“Are you okay, Virgil?” Morality asked.

“Yeah, thanks.” Virgil stared at Morality for a while, noting that he had brown eyes and a smile that was almost always present. If he looked hard enough, he could see some freckles that had been exposed by Morality’s mask not being positioned exactly right. Under his hood, a few strands of light brown hair had escaped, and they were blowing in the wind. Yeah, Virgil was almost certain that Morality was Patton. “Why are you always the one to save me? I thought there were three of you?”

Morality shrugged. “Right place at the right time, I guess!”

Virgil wasn’t convinced.

“Hey, Patton, do you like running?” Virgil asked Patton the next day. He was determined to figure out if Patton was Morality or not.

“Well, Logan makes me do it sometimes. He says that running will help me burn off some calories and make my hyperactivity easier to deal with. I’m not sure I believe him, but he’s pretty smart, so I listen to him anyways.” Patton shrugged. Logan must be a friend or relative of Patton’s, Virgil assumed. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just curious,” Virgil mumbled. He didn’t mention Patton’s jolt of fear that someone had figured it out.

That was it, Virgil decided. Patton was a superhero.

Virgil watched the news that night. He never watched the news because it made him too anxious, but he wanted to pay attention to anything about anything about Logic, Creativity, or Morality.

As he watched, he saw Patton (he was completely convinced that it was Patton now) getting attacked by other people, burned and cut by saving people from fires and other situations, and overall putting himself in dangerous situations. It made Virgil anxious. He didn’t want anything to hurt Patton, for some reason.

When Virgil cared about someone, he cared about them to the point where he would rather put himself in a bad situation to save them than watch as they got hurt. Virgil turned off the TV and walked into his bedroom, an idea forming in his mind.

He pulled out some makeup and he sat in front of the mirror. He tried to get rid of his bags, but when that didn’t work, he grabbed his black eyeshadow and made the marks on his eyes even darker. It looked... stupid. It suited him, though. By just applying the eyeshadow, he seemed to transform into someone else.

He looked through his dresser, trying to find something to wear. He pulled out a black hoodie that would definitely make it harder for people to see his face. He found a black cape from a Halloween costume from several years ago, and he tied it around his shoulders. He wasn’t completely different, but nobody would be able to tell it was him unless they looked closely.

He stood up and started heading for the door, then he stopped.

What am I doing? Am I really going to try to go help Patton? He’s a superhero, he knows what he’s doing! I just have anxiety...

That’s it. Anxiety. It fit with the whole brand that the other three had going on, and it described his powers, unlike the others’ names. He thought about how dangerous what he was doing would be, but he also thought about how Patton was putting himself in danger, and how Virgil would hate himself if Patton got hurt.

I’ll just stick to the shadows. I can make people hallucinate without directly confronting them. I can make this work.

Before he had a chance to save his mind, Virgil left the building to find the heroes.

Also on ao3

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hornsbeforehalos · 7 years ago

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Anytime, Sweetheart: Part 9

Pairing: JDM x OFC (RPF)

Features: Ackles & Padalecki Families, R2, Misha Collins & Vicky Vantoch, Norman Reedus, Andrew Lincoln, Kim Rhodes, Briana Buckmaster, Ruth Connell, Corey Taylor and other cast members & OFCs* *THIS IS AN RPF FIC**

Series Masterlist Summary: (I’m horrible at summaries, but let me try): Kylin Ackles runs to her brother’s house after leaving her abusive boyfriend of 3 years, where she meets Jeffrey. Events unfold that bring them together, as well as push them apart. Warnings: , Emotional abuse, Physical Violence, mentions of rape, cursing, drinking, recreational drug use (weed), Strip Club, RPF, NSFW**, GIFs, implied smut, Age Difference, Slow burn, Emotional rollercoaster, poorly written smutt, etc… 18+ please

(A/N: This is strictly a work of fiction that I came up with off the top of my head. For fictional purposes his S/O & Son are not mentioned. I love him and his little family, though, so no hate intended. This is the first time posting anything on Tumblr, but I couldn’t get it out of my head since my ao3 fic is currently on hiatus because writers block. Feedback is appreciated. unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.)

TAGS: @jml509 @jesbakescookies @daddy-kink-confirmed @wayward-mirage @aquivercactus

"Look at your self, whore" he voice snickered, "Can't even take a dick right anymore. How is he going to want you now?"

It was dark, decrepit, and foul smelling. I couldn't see or hear anything except for the sound of his voice.

"He'll probably stay with you for a while, because he feels bad, but then, then once he realizes what a burden you are, how pathetic, ugly, and stupid you are, how miserable you will make him, he'll leave. Just like everyone else. He'll go find a real woman, someone who will take care of her man the way a woman is supposed to."

I woke with a start, eyes darting open. 'It was a dream. It wasn't real.' Jeffrey had pulled my back into his chest and held onto me all night. His long arms were wrapped tightly around me, so when I couldn't keep my nightmare-enticed shaking under control, of course he felt it and stirred from his own slumber. "Y'okay, baby?" He murmured, still half unconscious. "Y-yeah, baby, I'm fine." I whispered, still trembling slightly. I rolled over to face his bare chest, nuzzling my nose in the course hair there. He sighed contently and squeezed me gently against him. I craned my neck to look at his sleeping face, brows slightly furrowed as he slipped back into his own subconsciousness. I let my fingertips dance across his beard and neck, coaxing a soft smile to his lips. "Mmmm," he moaned as I kissed his throat, running my tongue down to his chest and kissing there as well. His breathing picked up when his body realized that I was continuing my trail south. His eyes shot open when he felt me pull him out of his boxers, his hand instantly going to the side of my face.

"Babe, what are you-- Holy fuck!" He gasped in surprised as I took him in my mouth, immediately swirling my tongue around the head before pushing him to the back of my throat as deep as I could go. He was long, thick, and silky like heaven. "Fuck, baby girl, what are you doing?" He lifted the sheet that was covering my head to look at me as I raised my eyes to meet his. I moaned around him and bobbed my head faster in response, hand curling around what I couldn't take. "You...you...you don't have to... Oh, fuck!" he grunted, bringing both hands to tangle into my hair as he pulled it out of my face for me, holding it in a pony tail as I moved my tongue up and down his shaft and squeezed the root. "Jesus Christ, Mother of Fuck. Gaaaaaaah!......Nnnggg, Ky- Kylin......Fuck" His breathing picked up rapidly as I continued. He allowed himself shallow thrusts into my mouth at the same time I bobbed up and down, and let out a slew of profanities and proclamations of blasphemy as I worked my lips and tongue against him. I felt him stiffen and swell in my mouth, the telltale sign of him edging closer to release, and I pushed the last inch of him past my lips as he spilled his hot come down my throat with a final shout of what almost sounded like a declaration of love. He collapsed back into the pillows breathing heavily as I pulled away from him and came out from underneath the covers.

"What was that?" He heaved, still not able to catch his breath. I couldn't understand the look on his face, and because of that, my mind instantly went to the worst. ‘He didn't like that. After last night, how can want anything from me?' Instantly embarrassed, I stammered. "I- I- I wanted to, um... I'm sorry, I...know...." "Hey hey hey- stop. Calm down. Talk to me." He pulled me to his side to rest my head on his shoulder as his breathing finally steadied. He smoothed the hair out of my face and kissed the crown of my head. "I felt bad...because of what happened last night and-" I started, tears forming already, but he cut me off. "Hey, none of that. I already told you that wasn't your fault. You didn't have to do that just because you felt you had to. You don't owe me anything, Kylin." He held my face in his hand lifted it to where I'd look at him so he could rub our noses gently against each other, "Ever." I sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly, "I'm sorry I did something you didn't like." His eyebrows rose quickly in shock, "You think I didn't like that, baby doll?" "Well, I mean, I know you liked it, obviously. But if you didn't want that from me..." I trailed off, embarrassment creeping up again. "Oh honey, I fucking loved it. Best God damned head I've had in ages and I'm not fucking lying." He assured, rolling to where he could hover his torso over me with the use of his arms on the sides of my head. He ground his hips into the outside of my thigh and dipped his head down to my neck, kissing me softly as I tilted my neck for him with a moan. "You look so fucking perfect between my legs, girl." He rasped in a whisper, his breathy tone sending shivers down my spine as he dug his already hardening member into my hip again. I whimpered again as he kissed me, lips immediately opening for his tongue to slide against mine, exploring my mouth with enthusiasm. He broke the kiss to press his forehead against me and catch his breath, and when I opened my eyes I was staring into his. "You're amazing." He gasped, rolling off of me to lay on his back, trying to calm himself. "Thank you." I replied, not sure what else to say. He smiled and turned his head back to look at me, "Anytime, Sweetheart."

We had eventually got around to prying ourselves from each others arms to get ready for the day when his alarm went off. He called for coffee while I was in the shower, and then took my spot after I was done blow drying my hair. I had called for Misha to bring me a change of clothes and my makeup, which he threw to me the moment I answered the door to his knock before saying something about having a photo op and that he'd see me in the green room later and running off. I should have known based on his smirk that he was up to something, and I verified when I saw the items of clothing he provided for me with my shoes. "Dmitri got me a new shirt, it looks like" I giggled as Jeff came out of the bathroom, cotton hotel towel hung lowly around those hip bones of his. "What's that, sweetheart?" I slipped t-shirt over my head and pulled it down so he could see it. It had a silhouette of Lucille on it with "Property of Negan" scrawled in bloody letters underneath. We both busted out laughing at the sight.

"He does that shit on purpose, you know." He chuckled as he set about finding his own outfit.

"Jensen's gonna get a kick out of it, for sure" I mumbled as I pulled the pair of shorts Misha had brought me. Of course they were the shortest ones I had packed, and I had to tie the shirt at the end to keep it from looking like I was walking around half naked. "Mmmm, baby, it does look good on you, though." He snickered as he made his way closer to me to wrap his arms around my waist and trail his hands down to cup my ass. "I’m more of a Daryl Dixon girl, though." I jested with a wink, earning me a smack to the backside. "Oh yeah?" He grunted, cocking an eyebrow. "To be honest with you, I haven't even seen your season." I giggled, turning away from him to find my socks and shoes. "Well, we'll have to change that, won't we?" He grumbled, coming up behind me to grind against my ass as I bent over to push my foot into its sneaker. "I suppose so." I said, ignoring him as I reached for my makeup bag and made my way to the mirror covering the closet door, "Get dressed, babe, you have a panel in an hour."

"I thought you were Misha's assistant?" He mumbled and sighed as he found and pulled on a pair of dark washed jeans and fumbled around through his arsenal of graphic t-shirts. I rolled my eyes as I sat on the floor and began to spread my makeup in front of me while he continued to dress. "You really use all that shit?" He asked, observing me bouncing my face with foundation while he put his glasses on. "If I don't wanna look dead to the world then yes." I replied, earning me an eye roll through the mirror. I applied my powder, blush, eyeliner, and mascara quickly as I waited for the glue for my lashes to get tacky. I had to fight with them a minute to get them perfectly placed, which caused Jeffrey to laugh. "Shut up and blow." I huffed, craning my head upwards for him as he crouched down and lightly blew air towards my eyelids with a chuckle. "That's usually what I say." He rasped, nuzzling his nose against mine before standing back up to get his shoes on while I tried to decide what lipstick to wear. "Anything that won't come off when I kiss you," He suggested. "Matte black it is then," I said, picking up the tube.

"What the fuck is this shit?" He asked, holding up the big pink pan of mint green highlighter. "To make my cheeks look like candy, duh." I answered while correcting the lines on my lips. I took the pan from him and grabbed a brush, sweeping the color over my cheekbones to show him. "See? Now people can see me from Mars." I giggled as I tickled his nose with the brush, leaving a little bit of sparkle on the tip, "Now you can shine with me!" He scrunched his nose as he wiped his face with his hands, trying to get the glitter off of him. "You're annoying." he said jokingly as I pushed everything back into its bag. "You should know this by now." I replied. I stood up once I finished to wrap my arms around his neck. "Mmmm. I like you all gothed up. Its different, makes me feel young again" He smirked as he curled his arms around me to plant a chaste kiss on my mouth, lips puckered to be careful of any undried lipstick. "You aren't old, Jeffrey." I said after I pulled away to do final check of my appearance in the mirror with him standing behind me. "I'm almost 30 years your senior, love. You're gonna be pushing me around in a wheelchair soon." He sighed, the idea obviously bothering him slightly. I hadn't even thought about it. "No I wont, because I'll be riding around on your lap. We'll get you one of the electric ones." I giggled, trying to lighten his thoughts. He gave me a small grin with a chuckle as he ducked his head down to kiss my neck. "You gonna stick around long enough and take care of me?" He rasped against my skin, drawing goosebumps. I hadn't even thought about that, either, honestly. Jeffrey had said himself that we were having fun, and it's not like we even had the capability to get any further due to my issue from night before. I wasn't even sure why it happened with him. I had read in the information packets that the hospital had sent home after the attack that something like that was possible, just didn't think it would happen to me or with him, not that I had even planned on having sex with him at the time. The idea of him wanting to keep me around when my body didn't seem to want to have him inside me seemed a little far-fetched anyway. "I'm sure that even if we're not together then we'll still see each other enough." I said, looking into his eyes through the reflection. He grinned again and nodded, bringing his hand up to my shoulder to move my hair so he could kiss me there too. I closed my eyes and leaned against him for a moment, feeling him, until there was a knock on the door. With a sigh he stepped away from me to answer as I opened my eyes. Pleased with the refection in the mirror, I threw my makeup bag in the pile of petticoats and skirts in the corner of the room and grabbed my purse, checking to make sure all my essentials were there as he finished his conversation with the volunteer and closed the door back. "Ready?" he asked, smile on his face as his eyes roamed my body again. "Yes sir." I replied, grabbing my coffee cup and following him out the door.

"Um. Hi. My question is for Jeffrey," The fan asked nervously. "Hi Baby doll, how're you today?" He drawled in that charming way of his. "Good. Um. I was wondering if you were currently dating anyone?" I immediately gripped Osric’s hand as we sat watching Jensen & Jeff's panel from the first row. "My sister." Jensen spoke quickly into the microphone before looking around absently like he hadn't just said the most horrific thing in the world. Jeff immediately popped him in the back of the head. "Well? You are!" my brother said defensively before gesturing his hands to me, "She's sitting right the fuck there dude! Look at her fucking shirt!" "Fuck." I mumbled under my breath 'why are you doing this?' "Why don't you just come up here, sis?" Jensen said with a smirk, hopping down off the stage and pulling me up by my hand. My face immediately turned vermilion, I know it. I kept shaking my head and kept it down as my hair fell forwards and covered my face. Everyone was staring at me and there were even some "Awhhhs" to be heard in the background. "I hate you so fucking much." I murmured to Jensen before he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder to hoist me onto the stage. "I hate you!" I yelled louder, riling a group of laughter from the crowd and a bark from Jeffrey as he went to catch me when Jensen basically threw me into his lap. "She's gonna beat your ass one day and I'm going to watch." Jeffrey spoke into the microphone as he re positioned me to sit comfortably on top of him, my back to his chest and his free hand resting on my thigh. My face was still bright red and I covered it with my hands in embarrassment. I nodded at Jeffrey's comment, giggling behind my hands as he craned forward and planted a kiss on my cheek, earning a roar from the fans. "Alright, now that I've succeeded in making my sister's life hell for the day, next question?" Jensen said as I shot daggers at him with my eyes. Jeffrey pulled the microphone away from his face as the fan spoke to Jensen, the question being about Dean, and rested it against my other leg, slapping a pattern into my thighs with little taps of his hands. He hooked his chin onto my shoulder and murmured, "You okay?" I leaned back into him slightly and turned my head closer to his, still covering my mouth with my hands, "Don't really have a choice of the matter, do we?" He reached up to pull my hands away from my face to lace his fingers with mine back on my lap and kiss my cheek again. "Will you two stop it over there? I'm trying to answer a question, Jeeze" Jensen scolded when he realized everyone was ooh-ing for Jeff and I.

I narrowed my eyes as I took the mic from Jeff's grasp, raising it to my lips, "You did this, brother. And don't think I'm not going to get you back. Trust me."

Jensen pretended to come at me and I instinctively tucked myself deeper into Jeff's arms and held a leg out to stop him. Jeff laughed at our playfulness ans he pretended to protect me from my brother. "Aye, Aye, Aye no beating up my assistant!" Came Misha's voice from backstage right before he rushed through the curtain with a foam sword, lunging it at Jensen. "Yeah! Get him Misha!" I cried in laughter as Misha knocked Jensen away a few feet, standing on guard with the pretend weapon. Jeffrey had thrown his head back and was squeezing his arms around me as he his shoulders rolled with his laughter, causing me to giggle like a school girl myself. Soon after Rob and Rich jumped onto the stage, signaling that it was time for Misha's panel as Louden Swain played his intro and the rest of us retreated to the greenroom again. "I can't fucking believe you, Jensen." I immediately spat the moment we entered the room. "What? It had to be done eventually." He defended, throwing his hands up. I jerked him away from Jeffrey and dragged him into the corner of the room. Realizing we needed privacy, Jeff sauntered over to the food table to find something to snack on. "Dude, I don't even know what the fuck this is between him and I and here you are plastering it all over the fandom like it's nothing. I can't believe you." I glared, my voice low as I dug my nails into his arm that I still grasped. "Dude, you've been swooning for the guy for almost a year now, ya'll's pictures have been in the tabloids for months, every one expected this. You literally slept with him last night!" He whispered back, furrowing his brows in frustration. "No, I didn't. I couldn't. And now I don't know what the fuck this besides him claiming that I'm his, and now that I've determined I can't even have sex right I-" tears threatened to prick themselves as he cut me off, "What do you mean you can't have sex? Look, Ky, just because of what happened doesn't mean that-" He started, but I interrupted him, "No, not that, Jensen. It's not a mental thing I don't think, it's a physical thing. Like, he we were fooling around and he tried to touch me and it hurt-" "Okay, T.M.I. You need to go to the doctor, though, sis. The nurse said that everything," He coughed in embarrassment at his next comment, "everything is working properly...uh...down there... so what's the issue?" I could tell the conversation made him uncomfortable but that he still wanted to help his baby sister. "I don't know, Jay. Side-affect from the surgery, I guess." I sighed, leaning my head into his chest as he wrapped his arms around me for comfort. "You'll be able to work through it, sis. We'll figure it out." He huffed, squeezing me one last time before pulling away. We joined Jeffrey at the spot he'd taken up on the couch, Jensen forcing me into the middle. "You okay, doll?" Jeffrey rasped lowly while chewing on a nibble of a salad wrap. I sighed again and lied, "Yeah, just planning on how to kill my fucking brother."

I was sitting behind Misha working on stuff for Gish while he signed autographs when I heard the girl mumbling to her friend about me while she waited in line. "I heard she was a stripper. Probably just with him for his money." she said, and my eyes immediately lifted to look at her. She was about 19 or 20 with brown hair, talking to her friend ,who appeared to be the same age, who was a blonde. "She's so skinny. Who would want that? I guess Jeffrey's into bones." her friend snickered back. It was obvious that Misha heard the girls as he closed his pen with a sigh as they approached him. "H-h-hi Misha, would you mind-" She attempted to say before Misha cut her quickly off, "Actually, I do mind. It's really heartbreaking that people who claim to be apart of our family like to talk shit about other members of our family, especially within earshot of me. Kylin is also literally right the fuck here," he gestured to me, where I looked up from my laptop to glare at both of the girls, "so anything you have to say can be said directly to her." The girls were both stuck in their place, shocked expressions reddening their faces. I continued to glare at them with narrow eyes silently until the brunette finally gained enough composure to speak, "S-s-sorry. I didn't realize-" "Of course you didn't. Now if you'd please keep the line moving." Misha spoke sternly, elbows on the table with his hands clasped in front of him as he nodded his head for them to move on.

The girls grumbled by, obviously pissed as they continued their whispers low enough not to make out. I sighed as Jensen came up behind Misha and placed his hands on the man's shoulders. "What was that?" He asked, eyes trailing to the girls who where still glaring from the side. "What I was fucking avoiding." I mumbled, returning my attention to the work in front of me. "Fan girls being fan girls, babe, nothing I couldn't handle." Misha answered, patting where Jensen held his shoulder. "You know their gonna talk, Ky. You've seen what Dani and Gen go through." Jensen rolled his neck as he spoke to face me. "I'm sorry, is my name Danneel or Kylin Ackles? Thought so. There's a fucking reason why I avoid all this shit." I gestured with my hand, keeping my voice low as another set of fans made it through the line. Misha turned his attention to the older woman that approached him and asked "Hey, can I ask you a question?" "Sure, what's up?" "Did you happen to catch Jeffrey Dean's and Jensen's morning panel?" he squinted his eyes as he peered up at her. "Yes I did. It was adorable the way Jeff nuzzled our girl over there. On behalf of the fandom, you made the fucking catch of the year, chick." She smiled an infectious smile that spread through Misha and Jensen and worked its way over to me. "See? Haters gonna hate, Kylin. Fuck those teeniebopping twats." Misha said as he signed the woman's picture, making everyone chuckle. "Thanks." I smiled at her, feeling slightly better as I returned to working.

The rest of the day went on without too many whispers, and I was able to get most of the work that I needed to with Random Acts that I needed to in between following Misha around. I hadn't seen Jeffrey all day due to him being all over the convention with panels, photos, and his own autographs, and me genuinely needing to work, so when he poked his head through the curtain behind where I sat waiting on Misha to finish with his photos, I couldn't stop the smile from spreading across my face.

"How's my girl doing?" He rasped, rubbing his nose into my hair. He was currently in the middle of a Negan photo session himself on the other side of the curtain. "Working." I replied, fingers continuing to type as I rubbed the side of my face against his scruff. "Mmmm, I see that. When we're done here you wanna go make out in my room?" He whispered with a chuckle, sending shivers down my spine. "Weren't you just talking about how old you are this morning?" I laughed, ignoring my goosebumps. "You bring the youngin' out of me, girl. Can't help it." He smiled against my neck and I could feel his teeth brush against my skin. "I gotta get ready Misha ready for the concert tonight, Jeff. He doesn't know what to wear." I chuckled, eyes flicking to Misha as he posed with a fan. "Oh yeah, you gotta get ready too. Alright then." he grinned before placing a wet kiss to my neck and ducking his head back in through the curtain as he was called.

"The next lovely lady I want to bring out to sing with us is one of the strongest women I've ever met in my life. She has been through so much and has risen above all the shit she's had to endure. I'm so thankfully that she was able to get passed everything and find herself again. Please help me welcome Jensen's sister, Ky, to the stage." Rob smiled at the crowd and turned to me as I walked up to him, his arms entangling me in a strong hug as he whispered against my temple, “You got this, kid,” before walking back to the piano.

“I fucking hate you, Jensen. Rob, you’re on the list too, babe.” I sneared into the mic as I adjusted it, earning me a laugh from the audience. Rob let out a bark of a laugh from his place.

He began to play the intro on the keys as I turned my head to the audience and instantly caught eyes with the last person I expected. Anthony was standing in the crowd, about 10 feet away from me, glaring sickeningly. I gasped in shock, looking around to see that no one else had noticed him. A challenging snarl crossed his lips at my reaction, him getting off on the fact that he still had a hold on me. I stuttered for a second, jaw dropping open and my insticts telling me to run. A chuckle shook his shoulders at the sight of me, making me narrow my eyes at him in spite. I cocked my head at him and he jerked his head back, amused. I inhaled sharply and dropped my head for a moment as I listened to Rob play the song. I stood there for a second, pleased with Rob’s choice for me as I steadied my nerves before releasing the breath and gripping the microphone as a smirk appeared on my lips.

"Well, you almost had me fooled, Told me that I was nothing without you. Oh, and after everything you've done, I can thank you for how strong I have become".

The look on his face as I began the song changed as he realized what I was singing. What had started out as a predatory smirk on his lips quickly turned to a hardened line and his brows furrowed. " 'Cause you brought the flames and you put me through hell I had to learn how to fight for myself And we both know all the truth I could tell I'll just say this as I wish you farewell I hope you're somewhere praying, praying I hope your soul is changing, changing I hope you find your peace Falling on your knees, praying" I couldn't bring myself to tear away from his gaze. Despite everything else toxic in our relationship, he had always been able to tell exactly what I was feeling regardless if I used words or not by looking me in the eyes. He mostly used it to his advantage to hurt me, but I was using it to mine now. "I'm proud of who I am No more monsters, I can breathe again And you said that I was done Well, you were wrong and now the best is yet to come" I brought one hand to grip the microphone for leverage and the other one to my chest as the words flowed through my voice. I was so fixated on making sure he knew that I wasn't afraid of him anymore and that I was done and keep my own body steady that I didn't even notice the other people joining the stage or even feel Jeffrey's presence as he stepped up behind me. The crowd of people however did see and pushed past him towards the front of the guardrail around that had been erected in front of the stage, but he never let go of mys stare as I continued to belt out the lyrics. "'Cause I can make it on my own And I don't need you, I found a strength I've never known I'll bring thunder, I'll bring rain When I'm finished, they won't even know your name" Another thing I didn't realize was the tears in my eyes, but they finally spilled over as my voice slightly cracked. When Jeffrey heard this, he placed his hands on my hips and tilted my body back into his strong chest. My voice only faltered slightly as the calmness that his arms brought me took over my whole body as I brought my hands to his. Anthony finally broke away from my stare to look above me with hatred screaming from his eyes at the man who encircled his long arms further around my waist and rested his chin on top of my head with a smug smirk on his face that I couldn’t see. Jeffrey didn’t know of the silent altercation taking place, he just knew that he was going to be there for my support. "You brought the flames and you put me through hell I had to learn how to fight for myself And we both know all the truth I could tell I'll just say this as I wish you farewell" The entire cast stepped beside as I begun the last chorus, lifting their own microphones to their lips as Jared and Jensen came to stand on either side of me. I could hear all of the people who loved me and had my back sing in sync with my own words,Misha, Briana, Ruth, Kim, Rich, Gil all hooked their arms over shoulders with one another in a long line while Mark Sheppard beat on the base drum and Rob played the piano. Jeff squeezed me tight as we all swayed back and forth. "I hope you're somewhere praying, praying I hope your soul is changing, changing I hope you find your peace Falling on your knees, praying" The room filled with flames from lighters and glowing screens from cellphones as Anthony was pushed further into the crowd that moved forward to be closer. My stare finally left his face and I felt like I was able to breath for the first time again as I looked around me for the final verse, "Oh, sometimes, I pray for you at night Oh, someday, maybe you'll see the light Oh, some say, in life you gonna get what you give But some things, only God can forgive I hope you're somewhere praying, praying I hope your soul is changing, changing I hope you find your peace Falling on your knees, praying"

As soon as I was done with the highest note I'd hit in years and could take another breath, Jeff had turned me around and smothered me with his lips in a kiss that was meant to prove a point. One large hand cradled the back of my head while the other curled themselves into the waistband of my panties through my dress. A gigantic smile graced Jeffrey's face as he pulled away and I could see that there had at one point been tears in his eyes as I looked up at him before kissing kissing him again. As the song finished I turned back towards the crowd before finding Anthony one last time.

He had been pushed back enough to where it took me a moment to locate his face again, but when I did I couldn't miss his expression. He had tears rolling down his face, but a cold, hard stare pierced me. He shook his head as he looked down for a moment before letting a small smile cross his lips as he nodded, then turned around and disappeared behind the fans. The crowd themselves then repeated the chorus as Rob still played on, and everyone on stage encircled me into a protective wall. My brother pulled me out of Jeffrey's grasp to envelope me in his own. "That's my bad ass little sister," He said, tears running streams down his face as we smiled at each other before he released me back to Jeffrey. "You're fucking amazing, baby girl." Jeff said, holding my face in both his hands. "Thank you." I replied, bring my hand to my nose to wipe the leakage. "Anytime, Sweetheart." He said before bringing his lips back to mine as the crowd erupted in cheers.

part ten coming 8/20/17!

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unluckyadept · 7 years ago

Text

Character Journal Entry: Felix

{Tuesday, December 19th TUMBLR 2017}

Today was the first day of the celebration of the Winter Solstice.

One thing to understand about the Winter Solstice is that it is not the same as the Summer Solstice.

True, the community does gather to conduct the ceremonies related to rite of passage; in that sense, they are very much alike. But there are differences in the way that it is celebrated, and in the stories that are told.

In the summer, the stories center around the Clans, and how they came to be. It is the origin story of the Proxan people—how they, the Mars Clan, came to be dragon-sons and -daughters. It is a time of excitement, of that which is awake and alive.

The winter is not the same. The stories told are of the seasons, and how such a bitter winter came to the Northern Reaches…

((Proxan lore ahead!))

[Felix prepared early for the celebration, once again allowing his grandmother to apply the markings to his shoulders. True, they would not be remotely visible beneath all of the armor and layers, but it was the principle of the matter that counted.

Unlike in the summer, he would need to be present when the celebration started. And he would not be late today, of all days.

It was the dead of winter, and that meant unforgiving darkness. Torches were already lit, and there were small fires here and there where people had already gathered. He walked past some craftsmen, already in wait; like the Masters, they were to be in place when the procession began, as opposed to being part of it.

He took his seat where he had been before, trying not to betray how cold he was. Even with all the layers—fur-lined and magnificent, with the symbol of the Venus Tree on his armor—there was only so much he could do to cover his face. The bite of winter at least seemed noticeably less than it had been years ago; a welcome sign that life was returning to the Northern Reaches, and that the winters would not hold as great of a grip as they once had.

He and the other Masters were already seated around the large fire pit when the music began and the dancers came in. As before, displays of Psynergy lit up the skies—but here, in the darkness, they were bursts of light, and the displays were more magical and dazzling. Flashes of fire lit lanterns and torches around a second ring: as if waking up and lighting all the lanterns in a building in the depths of winter’s bitter cold.

The flashes of fire were in time with the music, and one by one, smaller fire pits were lit by apprentices, understudies, and others who were lesser in the crafts. The bursts of flame allowed the great puppets of the craftsmen to cast menacing shadows, moving between stills as the unrelenting night went on. When the soldiers came in with the banners, they stood to attention in an outmost ring around the whole gathering. Their backs were to the people, and spears at the ready: just as much a ritual display of alertness as it was a practical precaution in uncertain times.

Felix smiled beneath his mask.]

(I hope you are enjoying this, my friends.)

[Oh, he was enjoying this, to be certain. The familiarity, even if he had never been in such a position before: in the past, he had always been there, out amongst the crowd. Not here, with the Masters.

The acolytes came next, scattering handfuls of incense and lighting them, burning them completely before they even hit the ground. They went out to stand among the crowds, around the smaller fire pits; they were given preferential seating nearest to the fire.

It was then that the Masters began lighting the braziers near them, casting light around the ring of Prox’s council; each casting their own fire, as was custom. Felix could tell people were curious to see what he—a Venus Adept—would do.

He gave a slight smile beneath his mask.]

[Felix used an OIL DROP!]

FOOOOM!

[A few cheers of appreciation as his brazier burst alight with true fire, and not merely Psynergy mimicking flame. He could tell by the auras of the others that they had not expected this, but were very pleased.

The same dragon statue as before was carried in, and placed down in front of the fire pit. This time, it faced north, with its back to the dancers and some of the crowd.

Felix stood after the dragon was placed down, and held out his right hand.]

[Felix used CARRY!]

[Four jewels floated up from his open palm, taking their seat in the four arms of the great dragon. As before, they glowed with energy like four jets of colored flames—each the color associated with a particular Clan.

Only then did the Masters come together and let the great fire pit roar. The Elder stood and called out to the others.]

“{Let all within Sol’s favor bask in the light of her flames!}”

[Everyone drew closer to the large bonfire, other than those who would be recognized. They remained around the small bonfire. Felix gestured for his guests to draw in with the rest of the community.

It was at this time that most of the dancers drew back. Two stayed, swaying in place opposite one another, their backs to the fire. The one facing North was dressed in gold, with a mask like the rays of the Golden Sun. The other, facing South, was garbed in robes of shadow, with faint white threads like stars. The mask was of silver, like the face of the Moon.

The Narrator stood and began to relay the story.]

“{In the days of old, [man] found favor with dragons, and was granted many gifts.}”

[The dancer in gold lifted up her arms, bowing her head toward the ground.]

“{But [man] was prone to wickedness, and sought power that was not released by the spirits. Sol grew displeased with such avarice and pride, and turned her back on the world.}”

[She folded her arms in slowly and then reversed her mantle, revealing that the interior of the robes were ebony as the night around them. She sank slowly toward the ground as the story continued.]

“{As she withdrew her face, darkness fell upon the world.}”

[The other dancer, who had been moving low to the ground, rose up and reversed his mantle. This revealed the interior to be gray and crimson—a red moon.

There were murmurs of unease in the darkness as some of the lesser dancers stepped out closer to the fire. Their menacing silhouettes against the light of the bonfire made them even fiercer than their costumes allowed them to appear.]

“{There came upon the world, from the darkness, many beasts beyond imagining.}”

[The dancer of the moon cast out an arm, and another dancer sprang up from beyond the crowds. He was a Proxan with a blue-teal tinted hide, dressed in icy white with blue designs, reminiscent of a dragon made of ice. He bore down onto the crowds, causing some of the smaller ones to draw back in fear or dismay. A clash of instruments was used to simulate a resounding roar as he came to circle around the fire.]

“{An icewyrm flew down from the heavens to devour the world in a harsh winter. Its breath was the northern wind, and its roars were the howls that whistled as it tore through the landscape, carrying off the inner fires to the Void. It had fangs like scythes, and could tear out the [soul] of a man after singing him to sleep in the bitter cold.}”

[More dancers, dressed in red robes, rose and began to match the movements of the monster dancers. Their mirrored dance expressed an impasse. Jets of flame were then used, aimed just shy of the shadow dancers’ faces, driving them back toward the fire.]

“{The faithful dragons protected the people, burning away the demons and searing the bitter winter breath, and the people waited, repentant, for the favor of the sun.}”

[The dancer of the moon raised his arms and gave a massive display of white fire, earning a gasp of appreciation from the crowd. Felix flinched slightly at the suddenness, and remained on edge… but he, too, found it quite impressive.

This display seemed to “wake” the dancer of the sun, causing her to slowly rise.]

“{It was not until Luna had grown too powerful that Sol awoke from her slumber.}”

[She turned her mantle back to the golden display, and danced in time to the drums as they picked up again. The dancer of the moon reversed his mantle as he danced away, the two of them changing positions.

The lady of the sun began casting jets of flames at the feet of the monster dancers, and they dodged and swooped off into the night. When the ice dancer rushed toward her, a spear was cast into the ground, which she set aflame.]

“{She drew up in haughty pride and blasted through the cloud of shadows, granting faint sunlight in the everdark of winter. Day by day she pushed back the darkness, coming closer to the world until at last—the demons were banished, and the winter serpent speared in the belly, causing him to flee to the tops of the mountains, where he would still linger.}”

[The ice dancer recoiled, slinking off into the darkness. The same dancers that represented the Clans in the summer dance stood waiting in the wings, and each drew closer to the fire as they were mentioned and the story moved along.]

“{Even now, the dragons still battle the icewyrm as each follows the will of their master.

The Icewyrm granted favor to the Mercury people, who mastered his illusions and frigid bite.

Luna gave vigor to the Jupiter Clan, granting them great power in the light of the Moon.

The might of dragons was given to the Mars Clan, strengthening them against the power of winter.

The people of Venus tunneled into the earth itself to avoid the wrath of the icewyrm, living off of the bounty they had gathered in the wisdom as they saw the days grow shorter when Sol turned her face from the world.}”

[Felix smiled at that last bit.]

({More polite than being called the “forsaken” Clan, at least.})

“{But even in this time of shadow, they remembered the sun. The sun, the source of power and might—they would please her with the works of the Clan, who have not despaired, but stayed strong.}”

[Bursts of fire covered the retreat of the dancers as the story was concluded.]

“{ ‘Now go! Go and burn with the Might of your Clan, and remember the sun, who greatens your power.

Rejoice in her beams, the warmth of her face! Let her know that you have heard and remembered!

And see, too, that you honor her still in the months of shadow, when life itself forsakes the land, leaving you in hunger. Take heart, for she shall return! Soften and please her heart, and she shall forgive and again return.

So, too, shall the cycle persist in all the world, no matter how far off or not pronounced.’ }”

“{ ‘She will come and she shall go as she has always done—for such is the way of the [cosmos]; but whether you walk in the [creativity’s] spirit among the path of flames, or fade into the lowly and are lost to the world… that is your choice, the choice of the people, on whether to show they remember and are still now willing to listen and speak.’ }“

[As before, there was great applause at this, and the acolytes threw more incense onto the fire. The Elder spoke again once the noise died down.]

“{We have heard, now, the tales of the ancient world! Of the source of our winter, and how we came to endure it. We who look to the fires in the heart of the sky and of the great scaled beasts, who speak even now to the world beyond ours.}”

[The drums died down entirely, and Felix pulled his cloak around him tighter.]

Surely, it is not a thing to be missed.

—Felix

#cje #unluckyadept

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hail--to-the-queen · 8 years ago

Text

Marauders Era Headcannons

Ok so no one asked but these are mine. It’s really long, so sorry about that. A lot are based on inspo I’ve seen on Tumblr, tweaked to my liking, which is probably wrong but I just have all these feelings that I’ve gotta get out so here goes. If you see an idea that’s originally yours/you know who’s it is, please message me and I’ll credit your genius.

Peter

Shortest marauder. like hella short.

He wasn’t visibly muscled bc he liked food so damn much, but he wasn’t a creampuff either

preferred coffee over tea, and was the person who introduced coffee to Marlene

Funniest marauder. Could spin a tale/tell jokes like no one’s business.

Towhead, tanned up nicely, brown eyes

was actually very particular about how his hair was combed/parted, but didn’t fuss about it openly *cough cough Sirius*

just didn’t get the hype behind Quidditch. sure, he liked it, but he couldn’t imagine letting a sport take over your life like James always did and even Sirius did during season

was actually hella perceptive and good at figuring things out about other people

like for real I think he was the first one to notice a lot; Remus’ condition, Sirius’ abusive home situation, when Lily’s feelings for James started to change, how James himself started to change

Was also the swiftest/sneakiest of all the marauders (rat!) and collected all of their intel

didn’t much care about school, and wanted to open a cafe in Diagon Alley after school

Had something of a talent for Divinations. Like, wasn’t a seer or anything, but he understood the theory and appreciated the art

fell in love with Marlene McKinnon in their 6th year, and her death in the first wizarding war (Mentioned in Lily’s letter to Sirius) is what pushed him over the edge and away from the Order. he was already struggling before then, but she grounded him and gave him something to fight for, and without her he just couldn’t handle anything. grew angry, bitter, resentful, flipped on the order and tore apart his friends. yuck.

Remus

V tall. Tallest Marauder. Tallest student. certified tallboy.

Tea and chocolate and jumpers

smoker, but only right before and right after the full moon. it helps him cope

only swears when he’s well and truly angry

Brown hair with hints of copper that grows into a kind of mop. He manages it, somehow, even though it’s way out of style, and it just works

pale, brown eyes with gold in them

Messy to a fault, but somehow always has what he needs in the moment

LOVES quidditch, and attends every match especially because Sirius is a beater and damn just look at his arms

is the strategic brains behind the marauders operation. as much of a strategist as Ron is, Remus was too, and he was very good at planning things, especially things like breaking into filches office or putting potions in the Slytherin’s morning pumpkin juice that makes them all turn red and roar spontaneously

Always studied, because if he didn’t put in the work he wouldn’t pull good grades

Forms a very close relationship with Lily in their 5th year when they’re both prefect

realized he was bi (and totally in love with Sirius) in his 4th year

Refuses to come out to his parents because they already have a broken son, and he didn’t want to expand on those feelings

tutors kids for chocolate bars or spare change whenever he has the time

was terrified of being made head boy, because he just knew he couldn’t handle it, and was relieved when it was James (bc he just knew Lily was a shoe-in for Head Girl)

Is the first person Lily actually admits her confused feelings about James to

Sirius

Second-shortest Marauder (much to his chagrin)

has excellent posture as a result (because if he slouches he’s the same height as Peter)

Long black hair, grey eyes, regal/sharp features.

has a leather jacket that he picked up at a muggle consignment store when he was 14. it’s worn & covered in patches, and when his mother finds it in his closet his father uses the cruciatus on him

speaks excellent french. a side effect of Toujours Pur

Always paints his nails black or grey. When they chip, he paints over them, so it’s just layers and layers of paint

Starts to grow his hair out in the summer before his third year. Keeps it roughly shoulder length, and trims it himself after he had Emily Tefty teach him how

Incidentally, the summer before third year is when he stopped believing he could ever make amends with his parents. The only reason he went home after that was for Reg

Wants to live in London and work in a muggle garage

Is very smart, but doesn’t try. can ace every test though

is particularly gifted at CoMC

Smokes way more than he should

gets his first tattoo (a lion, what else) in Knockturn alley when he was 15. it paces and roars depending on his mood, and is on his ribcage, protecting his heart because he’s so afraid that one day he wont be able to protect his heart from his parents ideology

realized he was Gay (and in love with Remus) in the start of their 5th year

was so terrified of that fact that he went on a year-long dating extravaganza, in which he dated and snogged every girl he could get to agree to go out with him (which was, of course, almost all of them) in an attempt to find someone he liked better than Remus. It failed.

Ran away from home for good after a particularly brutal beating between 5th and 6th year

cried for days when he heard about Reg getting marked

hates Snape because snape doesn’t have the shackles of a pureblood fundamentalist family, but actively seeks that lifestyle, while he would give anything to be free of it

James

Gets up every morning and goes for a run around the grounds, no matter how cold it is

eats healthy, but he’s a growing boy so a second helping of pudding isn’t going to kill him

Lives, breathes, eats, and sleeps quidditch. Wants to be a professional player someday and probably could have

half-hindu, so dark complexion, dark eyes and dark hair

keeps said hair wildly messy in a lighthearted rebellion against his family

has a massive soft spot for the house elves, and sneaks into the kitchen more often to visit with them than he does to get remus and himself a cuppa

is the literal life of the party

Has loved Lily since 2nd year

doesn’t understand why she doesn’t like him for a long time, but eventually he gets it

is naturally smart/gifted, and doesn’t understand why Remus has to study all the time

Disliked Severus for a multitude of reasons; his closeness with Lily, his inclination towards the Pureblood agenda, the fact that he was a Slytherin and was proud of it. This made him an easy bullying target for James, but he only started to truly hate Severus after the mudblood incident

is very careful with his belongings

Dated a cute Ravenclaw for the first 6 months of his 6th year, but eventually broke it off because Lily was single again because they just didn’t have that spark

Was terrified when he was made head boy, just like he was terrified when he was made Quidditch captain the year before

Is literal Mr. Oblivious. Doesn’t realize the wolfstar situation, doesn’t realize that what he says has an impact on people, doesn't realize how many girls are interested in him, doesn’t realize that not everyone is as smart as he is, doesn’t realize when Lily’s feelings change.

literally peter has to spell out the wolfstar thing to him

Is terrified of the mermaids in the Black Lake

Lily

the most feminist feminist who ever feministed

Kept a muggle record player from her father that Remus helped her charm to work in Hogwarts during 4th year

Was definitely very close to being in love with Severus before the mudblood incident. He was her first kiss

she and Severus both made up their own spells, and correct their potions books with better instructions. Muffiato was her creation

Smart, but studies very hard nonetheless, Bc in the back of her mind she was terrified that someone someday will take away her wand

Actual queen of sarcasm

knitted in her spare time (the muggle way)

Long (like, can tuck it in her waistband) red hair, creamy skin (burns like a lobster in direct sunlight)

Cuts her hair after the mudblood incident because Severus always loved to play with it

this is 100% someone else’s idea, but i cant for the life of me find the post. If it’s your’s, or you know who’s it is, PLEASE message me and let me know and I’ll give them all the credit

Ends up with a bob and scraggily bangs. Keeps it for a month, then magically grows it back out until it’s below her shoulder blades. Keeps the bangs, because she likes them

Figures out Remus’ secret after 3 months of prefect duty in 5th year. Tells him, just to make sure he doesn’t feel like he has to lie or hide from her.

can banter back and forth with Peter so well that they leave the others in stitches every time

Loved her parents, but never had much of a relationship with her mother

Officially gave up on trying with Petunia in the summer before 4th year, when she threw a scarf Lily had knitted her for her birthday in the bin immediately upon opening it, because she was convinced Lily had knitted it with magic

fell in love with James somewhere in the middle of 6th year, and was terrified of it, because they had managed a truce/friendship and she was so afraid to mess that up

legitimately doesn't believe she’s good enough to be Head Girl

Fierce protector of all the muggleborn students

Retreated into a shell of a person early in 6th year when her dad died of cancer. the marauders and Marlene took 2 months to try and get back to being herself

Dated Amos Diggory for the first 3 months of 6th year, but ultimately broke it off because of James because they just didn’t have that feeling

when Severus started sending her letters threatening to harm himself if she wouldn’t talk to him, she stopped opening them, and reported him to Slughorn as a suicide risk

Wanted to become a healer and totally could have

Marlene

Best friends with Lily since the first night of first year

Sucker for a funny guy

Talented artist, terrible in all of her courses (she only passes because of Lily)

dyslexic as hell

hated tea with a passion, but fell in love with coffee after Peter introduced it to her during their 2nd year

now she buys it from columbia (that and art supplies are the only things she shamelessly splurges/spends her family’s vast wealth on)

Is a pureblood, but her whole family rejects the doctrines, and she’s very proud of that. Especially after seeing what its like for Sirius to fight his family.

wants to become a wizard tattoo artist and totally could have

has a floral 1/2 sleeve she designed herself

short stature, wavy blonde hair, blue eyes

does commission work for students and faculty

By 7th year, starts giving illegal frowned upon tattoos to students in her dorm (but only those of age). Lily turns a blind eye to this because she knows Marlene is clean and safe and damn good at what she does, and she feels the need to support her best friend’s dreams

Started to fall for Peter in 6th year, because he made her laugh

See’s the good in (almost) everyone

original queen of the bat bogey hex

Went on one date with Sirius to Hogsmede in their 5th year, during which they talked about tattoos and neither of them felt anything other than friendship

Keeps lots and lots of plants in her room (if she was ever good at any class, it was herbology. She just couldn’t take the tests/do the readings/write the essays)

had multiple piercings all the way up her ears

once hexed Lucius Malfoy’s hair off of his head for sneering at her for spending time with non-purebloods

served almost as many detentions (almost) as the marauders

commentated quidditch matches

Severus

Loved Lily since they were 9 and he saw her first do magic on the playground

He had pretty regal features, if he would just get his hair out of his face

he wasn’t really greasy, thats just something the marauders called him

Dark eyes, light complexion, long, straight, black hair

Was a very talented student, but really only cared about defense and potions

secretly hated the slug club and all it stood for, but was a member because he saw the value of networking

loved pepper imps, and would buy them whenever he had any extra money

was very good at budgeting

Had an abusive father who used to beat him, until one day when Severus was 7 and his father was chasing him with a belt. He made the china cabinet unscrew from the wall and crash down on his father

Refuses to let his mother buy him new clothes until he desperately needs them, because he knows how expensive they are and can’t stand the thought of her going without because of him

Hates James from the moment he shows any interest in Lily

See’s Lily as a possession to be hoarded

Refuses to acknowledge that his love for her conflicts with his pure blood agenda

legitimately believes he can have both, even if that means hiding her away. He even draws up plans of how he would accomplish this

Loves to play with her hair

Wrote Lily letters following the incident in which he threatened to harm himself if she wouldn’t talk to him. She never did, and neither did he.

Figured out Remus’ secret in 5th year after Sirius gave him a huge hint, and was basically forced to make an unbreakable vow with Dumbledore that he would never tell anyone

#headcannons #jily #marauders #sirius #sirius black #wolfstar #remus #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #james #james potter #marlene mckinnon #Lily #Lily evans #Severus snape #snape #mine

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kidolegend · 8 years ago

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Interference (PromptoXOC)

Summary: With the 10-year night upon Eos and Noctis absorbed into the crystal, the protective runes at havens are losing power rapidly, and soon there will be no place for people to take shelter from daemons. Aylin Noctua is a woman who chosen by the late Lunafreya to renew the runes at the havens through musical rituals (see the awakening of Leviathan). After a series of events that began with Prompto and Aylin teaming up to take down a Niflheim blockade, Aylin travels the continent with Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis on a pilgrimage to restore light to the dying world for their king.

Prompto/OC, this is still relatively early in the story before Prompto confesses his feelings for her :3 Uhh… please feel free to comment, reblog, or give feedback; I’d like to get a gauge if people actually want to read this or if I should just sink back into anonymity and stick to reading others’ works…

For those on mobile, you’ll have to open tumblr on your internet browser and open the ‘read more’ from there… I’m sorry for the hassle, but the post is quite long and I don’t want to bother people with all the text. If it helps, search up my blog ‘kidolegend’ and then look up the tag ‘aylin test’ and you’ll find the post pretty easily~

(also tagging @nifwrites, who is awesome and is willing to put up with this crap…)

Aylin’s voice lifted into a gentle aria and engulfed the haven in her clear, simple melody. Prompto felt the tension in his muscles ease at the sound, soothed by the way her singing weaved through the air. He looked over his shoulder to watch as Aylin’s steps glided over the shining runestone and her body swayed elegantly, completely unaware of his gaze.

“Hey, pay attention.” Gladio cuffed Prompto on the shoulder and the blonde made a small noise, not noticing how long he had been staring at the woman he was supposed to be guarding.

“S-sorry.” The gunner shook his head and trained his eyes on the forest surrounding them. He needed to focus–any daemons nearby would be enraged by the their darkness being purged from the haven. He had to made sure that Aylin was safe until the runestones reactivated. He just had to.

The ritual continued and Prompto frowned. It was abnormally quiet for a place that was supposedly ‘littered with daemons’. He exchanged glances with Gladio, who also looked bewildered by the surrounding silence. He was about ask Ignis about it, when Aylin’s singing stopped with a muted gasp and the rune’s light vanished.

He hated being right.

“H-huh?” Prompto glanced over his shoulder, freezing as he comprehended what he was seeing.

Aylin was floating horizontally in midair, her head lolling towards the ground and her entire body limp.

“What happened? Is something wrong?” Ignis had conjured his weapons, deep concern on his face.

“Aylin!” Gladio’s spotlight illuminated Aylin’s prone form and Prompto blinked in confusion as he struggled to see the dark shapes that were suspending the woman in the air. They weren’t daemons… It was almost as if… the darkness itself had claimed Aylin as a hostage.

“…The hell…?” Prompto made to climb up onto the runestone, but he was interrupted by a hauntingly familiar voice.

“Now, now… My dear Prompto, I thought after all we’d been through you’d know better than to disappoint me. And alas, you’ve even involved another person? You really haven’t learned a thing.”

Prompto felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. ‘No,’ he thought, his blood ran cold. ‘No, it can’t be…’ His gun materialized in his hand in what he knew to be a vain attempt at protecting himself.

Ignis was the first to speak, anger barely concealed beneath his ever-steady voice.

“…Chancellor Izunia.”

[where I would normally stick a cruel chapter break, but for you reading, I shall continue!!]

“Yes, it is I. The one and only,” Ardyn’s chuckle seemed to echo in the pressing darkness and Prompto shuddered, unable to tell which direction it was coming from.

“What the hell do you want?” Gladio growled out, his greatsword shimmering into view as he hefted it onto his shoulder.

“Oh, Gladio…” Ardyn’s voice was practically dripping with honey.

“Don’t talk to me like you’re an old friend.”

“My, my. What a temper… I’m here for very obvious reasons.”

“To stop the ritual.” It wasn’t a question. Ignis had turned to his right as he spoke and Prompto followed suit, trusting Ignis’ ability to pinpoint Ardyn’s location more than his own.

“Indeed. You see, I spent a tremendous amount of time engulfing these lands in darkness, and I don’t appreciate your efforts at ruining my handiwork.”

The plants nearby rustled and the three men jumped, startled to find Ardyn emerging from the opposite side of the clearing than they had expected. He had a smug grin on his face as he sauntered forward. “Simply put, I am here to put a stop to,” he gestured at the runestone, where Aylin was still suspended by shadowy tendrils. “All this.”

Prompto immediately lifted his arms, holding his gun level with Ardyn’s eyes. “Like hell you will.” Prompto stepped between the chancellor and Aylin, his normal, congenial expression hardened into a mask of unbridled hatred.

Ardyn held up a hand. “Ah ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you… We wouldn’t want anything happening to your precious pseudo-Oracle, now would we?” His tone darkened, abruptly menacing.

Prompto’s hands jerked reflexively, betraying the terror bubbling in the gunner’s stomach.

“If you’re putting a stop to ‘all this’ anyways, why the hell should we trust you to keep her safe now?” Gladio huffed angrily, not falling for the chancellor’s ruse.

“Hmm, too true. Then, shall I end this here?” Ardyn’s grin broadened into a more sinister expression, and he curled the hand he was holding up into a fist.

A blood-chilling scream ripped into the night air and Prompto whipped around, his face drained of all color.

Aylin’s body had stiffened, her back arched and her fingers splayed out as Ardyn coaxed tormented screeches out of her mouth. Prompto could see the veins in her neck and arms standing out against her pale skin, the agony rippling through her almost palpable.

“N-no!!” Prompto vaulted onto the rock but was thrown backwards off his feet and left helpless at the shadow’s edge. There was no way to reach her. “Aylin!!”

“Son of a bitch,” Gladio’s typically fearless expression had melted into one of horror, and Ignis gritted his teeth, vainly trying to figure out some plan of escape. They wouldn’t be able to fight their way out–so he had to outwit the chancellor somehow.

Ardyn didn’t bother trying to hide the mirth on his face as Aylin’s screams continued. “Ah, such a sound… You can feel it in your bones.” He laughed merrily, raising his voice just enough to be heard. “I almost prefer it over the singing.”

“A-Aylin…” Prompto struggled to his feet, ignoring the burning sensation the shadows left on his skin. Aylin was writhing against her bonds, her cries weakening into choked gasps as the shadows tightened around her neck.

“Such beautiful noises…” Ardyn flexed his hand and Aylin was cut off with a strangled gurgle. Gladio swore when he saw a dark liquid leaking from the corner of Aylin’s mouth, dripping onto the runes below.

“No, stop…” Prompto turned back towards the chancellor. He hated having to beg, but it didn’t seem Ardyn would be pacified any other way. At the rate they were going, Aylin would be dead within minutes. “P-please let her go,” He breathed. “Please…”

Ardyn gave a low hum, locking his gaze with the blonde. Prompto felt a chill run through him and he averted his eyes, ashamed at his fear and weakness. After a few more tense moments, the chancellor gave a short wave of his hand. All the tension left Aylin’s body as her head fell back, and horribly wet-sounding coughs tore through her prone form.

Prompto’s body was shaking violently as he forced his gaze away from Aylin’s painstriken expression back to Ardyn. The chancellor had the nerve to look empathetic as he gave a melodramatic sigh, pushing his humiliating taunts even farther. “Now, are you all going to behave, or shall I continue to dole out punishment to your lovely friend?”

“What do you want?” There was a long silence before Gladio spoke up.

“I want you all to behave,” Ardyn said simply. “Traveling the lands, rampaging about and slaying my poor daemons–destroying all my arduous efforts at establishing a world that our dear Noctis can fight for… And purifying the grounds my creatures have worked so hard on defiling? Tsk, tsk…”

“You want us to sit around and let people die?” Gladio clarified, incredulous.

“Now, now, how very small-minded of you.” Ardyn waved a dismissive hand. “Whatever will the point be if Noct spends all that time in the crystal, just to come back to a cheery, hope-filled Eos? Not very motivating, if you ask me. I’m just ensuring that our dear prince’s efforts aren’t wasted on a world that will no longer need his aid upon his return.”

Ignis saw his opening and rushed to take it. “If that’s truly the case, then isn’t it in your best interest to let us continue the rituals, Chancellor?”

Ardyn seemed genuinely surprised that Ignis has spoken. “Oh? Pray tell.”

“At the rate this world is progressing, the daemons will extinguish all light and life within a matter of months. Assuming Noct doesn’t return before that,” Ignis paused, choosing his words carefully so Aylin wouldn’t be on the receiving end of any potential backlash. “If everything dies, your efforts will all be for naught.”

Ardyn–for once–didn’t reply.

“I doubt Noctis will be willing to play a part of your game if he has nothing left to fight for.” Ignis elaborated. He couldn’t see Ardyn, but he knew the chancellor was watching him and remained as still as possible. It was like being under the gaze of a predator–a sadistic, psychopathic predator who had one of his friends in his jaws.

“He’s right.” Gladio added. “Even if Noct wants to beat the shit out of you for killing everyone, he won’t do it if there’s nothing else at stake. His Highness might not be the smartest, but he’s not that stupid.”

Ardyn pursed his lips, looking thoughtful. “Hmm, you do make a fair point. Touche, my dear Ignis. I can see why you were appointed as Noct’s advisor.”

Ignis remained stone-faced, choosing to ignore the facetious compliment.

After several moments of silence that was only broken by the occasional groan from Aylin, the chancellor shrugged. With a simple flick of his wrist, the shadows dissipated and Aylin was lowered to the ground, where she curled in on herself, shuddering.

“Very well. I will step down for today and let you continue playing hero. You may continue renewing the runes and even murdering my precious pets,” Ardyn made a pained expression at his concession. “All to your heart’s content. After all, I am a generous man.”

He paused, waiting to see if there would be any reply. When there was none, he clicked his tongue.

“Well, it appears my role here has come to an unexpected close. Alas, I shall take my leave, as painful as our parting must be.” Ardyn swept his arms around and gave a low bow, holding his hat in place as he rose. “I know you have all been rendered speechless by my overwhelming show of mercy, but perhaps next time a ‘thank you’ would be in order?“

He was met with another prolonged silence. “…No? Hm, very well then. Oh, I would recommend seeing to your companion’s wounds soon,” He gestured one more time at Aylin before turning on his heel to leave, tossing his last comment flippantly over his shoulder. “The poison in her blood tends to cause lasting damage if it is not cured quickly.”

#aylin test #ffxv #final fantasy xv #ffxv fanfiction #ff15 #final fantasy 15 #prompto argentum #prompto #prompto x oc #aaaaah i did it im so nervous

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