#like really?? you had a centuries to come up with a parental plan for loyalty and all you managed was.... ?????

[worstloki]

Odin’s pathetic like imagine having literally a thousand years to raise a kid to do what you tell them and then they don’t so bad you have to lock them away in another dimension and/or exile them as a mortal to another planet and/or throw them in a dungeon for the rest of their life

[conundrumoftime]

Been thinking about this, and here's why I'm more focused on what TROP might be doing with Celeborn than what it's planning to do with Haladriel at the moment:

With Galadriel and Sauron, I already know how that's going to end. They're going to end up 3000 years in the future as each others' chief adversaries where she's still tempted by the power that TROP has framed with Sauron's offer to her, and he's still constantly trying to get into her mind. So there are not that many ways the show can mess this up for me because I know that's the end-point. What's on-screen might be more or less appealing to me but the overall direction is set.

With Celeborn, though, they could really mess this up.

I do not say this just because I like canon Celeborn or that ship. (Although I do! And I still get to continue writing it in Silm/LOTR canon if TROP messes it up.) I say this more because I really like TROP Galadriel, and so much genre TV I've loved before has had an abysmal record at putting a female main character in an established relationship. So many times, it's effectively the conclusion of her character arc. So many times, interesting moral ambiguities, flaws, imperfections, ambitions, everything that's driven her part in the plot forward, are parked for Aren't They Sweet. 'Married' and 'parent' are seen as personalities for female characters in a way that they are not for male characters.

I like TROP's Galadriel. I like that she is flawed and that her flaws carry her story forward. I like her confidence, her grief, her loyalty, her single-mindedness, her response to being disrespected in that Númenor throne room to be to inflame the situation to the point where even Sauron the Dark Lord went "woah there".

I do not want her to stay unchanged for the whole show. At this point she is still driven so much by grief and pain and regret and in season 1 by isolation above all. I do want to see that get better for her, but not in a way where it changes her whole personality (& I've talked before about how I don't think the Galadriel we meet in LOTR is an all-knowing all-gentle wise forest lady) or reduces her to a background figure.

Introducing Celeborn to TROP could go, broadly, 3 ways:

One: they leave him out until the end, and reintroduce him as part of her happy ending. I would not love this - as I said before, I like him, I like that ship, and I want to see her husband and their marriage as playing parts in her story, not a prize delivered to her for successfully completing it; I want her conflicted feelings about Sauron to continue with Celeborn in the picture, I don't want the show suggesting to me she's only got those conflicted feelings because he's not currently there. "Well done for not flirting with Sauron recently! Here's your husband back :) now you get to be happy and have a baby :)" - deeply boring for me. But at least I'd only be bored for the last episode or two.

Two: they introduce him earlier and do something interesting with him, probably tying him to one of the other plots, maybe introducing him before telling us who he is so we get to know him as a character rather than as Galadriel's Husband. This would let them use that relationship to explore more of Galadriel's character journey in a far more interesting way than just awarding him to her at the end.

He's been away for centuries; the way she described him when he left, he was quite sheltered, he wasn't used to war, his memory seems very tied up in her mind with her own younger, happier, more naive self. And now he's back. Has he changed as much as she has? Has the war broken him too? Has he maybe not wanted to come back? Does he have his own traumas, his own griefs, his own goals and motivations, that may clash with hers? What's he going to think when he meets this Galadriel? What's she going to think when she meets him? How do you rebuild a marriage when you're effectively strangers to each other? What's he going to think of Sauron's offer - does he know Galadriel well enough to understand why she was tempted? Would he have been tempted? Might he still be? This could be really interesting and is by far my favourite option.

Three: They bring him back in a way that sidelines Galadriel in the narrative, blunts all the interesting sharp edges of her character, gives her 'married' as a personality, and makes her temptation by Sauron not something that exists because of who she is and what drives her, but something that only existed because her husband was not around and now he's back they can walk off into the sunset holding hands. Insert Darth Vader "NOOOOOOOO" scream here.

I don't think the show would go that route. Durin and Disa show that they can write a married couple fine (as a parent myself I cannot tell you how inspirational it was to see Disa in s1 deftly lying to Elrond while doing bedtime for her small children, because damn that takes skill). The showrunners and writers are invested in Galadriel; they clearly like the opportunity that less-canonically-fleshed-out characters give them to really play around. But! Like I said, I have been burnt on this one so many times, and my fear is that it's just what they'll do because they think the story calls for it in the same way they do Big Epic End-Of-Season Battle Sequence because they think the story calls for that.

I really really really so much do not want this to happen to Galadriel or her story, and so will continue to worry to some degree or another until I get some sense of what on earth they're planning to do with Celeborn.

[liannelara-dracula]

GIRL I JUST GOT AND IDEA . HC . What if the triplets werent Cordelia's son, I mean they found out that for Karlheinz plans , their mother ( who was gentle and loved them) was locked up in a tower because she was useless for him and then he gave them to Cordelia and now on . Would they save her? How would they behave with her treating them with love? Im really curious about how these three sadistic fuckers would react to a real good parental figure( knowing how broken they are and it would take centuries to , at least, turn then "normal")

Hi Love,

omg what a wonderful idea, sorry I took so long to answer. I made these hcs more general regarding the three of them. I hope you like it tho. Let me know if you have more questions. These are the asks I love the most tbh. You really blew my mind with this question love. Anyways let me show you what I have here.

-Liannelara

———————

Prompt

Requests are open

Rules

———————

Omg girl that is a cool idea actually. Very interesting tbh.

Okay, I picture that when they found this out they were hella shocked.

But honestly angry too and also generally curious tbh.

Like if they if hated their father a little, now they really hate him.

I think Ayato was mostly shocked and angry, as was Laito but I see him being curious at the same time.

Kanato on the other hand is probably only curious since he doesn’t exactly have any sanity left tbh.

So they’d probably want to figure out what was going on and how this all happened.

They probably asked for their brothers to pitch in with their knowledge too bc why not.

Plus I could also see that they would help even if they act like they don’t care.

I think they would want to save her, especially if they found out she was a good person.

I could also see them wondering if its really worth it too.

But I really see that with some thinking they bothered to look for her.

She is probably in the demon world so they spent months looking for tbh because her whereabouts were unknown to everyone.

I wouldn’t be surprised if their mother was from a noble vampire family but she didn’t have any useful power so that’s why Karlheinz locked her up.

Or really had her be banned to see her children, all for his social experiment.

And the names they have are not their real names obviously but even their actual names that are probably Romanian, wouldn’t be their birth names that she gave them.

I see that Karlheinz changed everything just for there not to be suspicion.

But somehow they still managed to find out bc of some loop he forgot to tie.

So apart from meeting her and confronting her they wouldn’t know how to deal with her love.

For instance, I see that this would all move them in different ways.

Like Kanato, it could pull at his heartstrings and possibly make him tear up but then the next minute he thinks she’s just manipulating him; causing him to lash out.

This would only hurt her seeing one of her children is no longer sane and that his very own father lead him up to this.

As for Ayato, he feels moved by what she says but he’s mostly shocked and may get angry sometimes from how she speaks lovely to him.

He does want to get to know her but he isn’t going to just let her in bc again everyone (who has been through stuff) builds a wall when they get older.

Especially once we’ve gone cold with emotion, we don’t accept everyone so easily.

So he is willing to listen but when his arrogant strike runs through she might point it out.

Kinda like, “Is this what he taught you? My child, arrogance isn’t something to be proud of even if you are of royal blood. You must be humble and kind to appeal to the hearts of many.”

Overall like any normal mother, she lectures out of the goodness of her heart because she hates to see him this way.

Laito on the other hand is really stubborn, as much as he loves the fact that Cordelia isn’t his mother and she was just some random woman that abused him and it wasn’t his own blood that did it, he still isn’t going to let things go.

He feels a little relieved and deep down carries a sense of hope that she may be in fact a good person.

Although, because he is so hurt he wouldn’t admit that and he would be stubborn to change.

He probably wouldn’t take in what she has to say for the longest time bc he hates all women and doesn’t think any of them are good or sincere.

So it would take him forever to believe his mother and see that not all women are monsters.

I can see that his mother was abused and that she was able to level with him bc I think in time when they visited her she began to understand where all her sons were coming from.

And think she put two and two together and found out a bit of Laito’s past a reached out to him.

This is something she probably said that made him change: “I was young too once and I understand what you feel from the tragedy you hold close to you till this day. What was done to you and I, my son, was unjust. I was never given the choice to raise you or any of your brothers, so therefore I couldn’t save you, nor give you my undying love as a mother should. I don’t expect you to forgive me but I hope you understand.”

He’d be the hardest to reach out to and accept his mother’s love.

Like Ayato and Kanato would be convinced quite quickly and they would grow to love their mom.

Meanwhile, Laito would still have mixed feelings and if he should trust/except her.

I think through enough break through tho he would realize what love is through seeing how his mother cares for him even if she doesn’t know him. And plus she is willing to get to know him and love him.

Like she isn’t like everyone else and she is probably the only woman that could restore them back to their senses.

Of course this would take years but they would grow to be fond of her in due time.

Though I do see that she’d have be persistent and fight tooth and nail to prove to them her loyalty and love for them.

Will take maybe a century or almost a century for Laito to be convinced.

Ayato and Kanato would take maybe decades too because vampires have stronger feelings, because heightened senses so I do believe that they may not trust as fast.

So in general if she is persistent enough they will grow to love their mother.

If she gives up on them then there chance of hope to restore them is never.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

˗ˏˋ 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 ˎˊ˗

©𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔~Present

[authortobenamedlater]

Posting this now in case the finale proves me right or wrong. 😂 These rambles brought to you by way too much time waiting for my grocery pickup order.

Here are some reasons I think Halo MIGHT go for the Demon Spawn (as I’m calling it) angle next season:

It would up the ante for John and Makee. Not only are they dealing with each other and being on opposite sides of a war, now they are trying to save THEIR CHILD. The child both of them desperately love and desperately want to keep safe. Does this child unite them? Divide them? Both depending on the day? What would be the Covenant’s plans for the offspring of their Blessed One and the biggest thorn in their side? How far will John and Makee go to save their baby from each other?

Men in armor and helmets tearing the galaxy apart to save their kids are hot stuff in sci-fi at the moment.

Makee would have to reckon with her view of humans when she realizes that view would apply to her own kid. She would also have to reckon with her loyalty to the Covenant when she sees that their intentions for her child might not be the best, cause we know they won’t be.

John is good with children. We see this with Kwan, admittedly not done very well, but we still see it. Kessler takes a liking to him and even in his awkward and stiff way, John reciprocates. The show has gone out of its way, particularly in the last few episodes, to demonstrate that while Master Chief is a human wrecking ball, John is gentle and kind.

It would at least make The Scene a relevant plot device.

The biggie: In another life, John would have wanted his own family. When he meets Soren’s wife and kid, and then goes into his own childhood home and sees memories of parents who loved him, you have to think John started wondering if that could have been his. If he would have had a “normal” life with a wife and kids and a dog had Halsey never taken him (I touched on this in Choose You This Day).

The bigger biggie: The Halo showrunners do not seem to care who they piss off. In fact, I’d wager they enjoy subverting audience expectations. It’s like they all sat around a table and said “Hey. This show is going to draw a lot of ire so LET’S JUST GO FOR IT.” The Master Chief lost his helmet in E1 and his virginity in E8. Would Baby Chief really be out of the realm of possibility? Do we put anything past this show anymore? I don’t.

Before you all come for me with pitchforks and torches: I do not think this would be a good idea. I really, really do not want the show to go here. I’ll read a million fanfics about Daddy Chief. I might even write a few of them. But this is one of those tropes that makes great fanfiction and lousy source material. Unless you’re Jon Favreau and Dave Filoni, and Halo’s production team has painfully demonstrated that they are not.

This brings me to my final point, why Halo won’t/shouldn’t go with this idea: It makes absolutely no sense that the Spartans would not have been sterilized.

Halsey planned the abduction, replacement, and memory wipes of 100+ children. She planned their enhancements and training. She managed to cover her tracks for 30+ years. Do we really think she would overlook assuring that they wouldn’t get up to extracurricular activities and possibly throw a monkey wrench in the whole thing?

In fact, there’s some evidence that the Spartans WERE sterilized. John says he “thought it was impossible” upon meeting Soren’s son. But Soren DOES have a son. Maybe Kessler was a miracle baby? Hey, vasectomy babies happen. Maybe whatever 26th-century sterilization method they have is reversible. But would John know that? Would he even think of it? Maybe he went into his thing with Makee thinking they were protected and Baby Chief is another miracle baby. By John’s own admission, he should not be able to have children, so if he does the show needs to explain it.

Buuuuut. Halo has surprised me enough that if they did decide to go this way, I think they might actually swing it. Or, it would be a total glorious dumpster fire that we all just can’t stop watching.

[firerose]

Dark-Seven part three - Jason

I apologize @reading0mens for the longtime it took me but I love Jiper angst sooo it got a bit long XD, feedback would be cool :)

- The day Gea was destroyed marked the end of the giant war

- But for Jason, it was the most horrible day of his life

- He wakes up in the infirmary without Leo and Piper

- They are dead Chiron tells him

- Leo gave his life to kill Gea and the eagles could not catch Piper on time

- Jason refuses to believe it until he runs out and sees her

- Her bloodied corpse, her lifeless eyes they will hunt him until the end of his life

- He wanted to grow old with her

-As he gently rocks her in his arms he tries to understand

- Why would Hera let her die after she screwed so much with her life already?

- Why would she let Leo sacrifice himself in such a violent way?

- He knows the truth deep in his heart

-As he watches Piper‘s body burn among the others he learns what real hate feels like

-It scares him

- He was supposed to be Hera‘s champion, a loyal soldier to the gods

- His pain gets worse when he is alone

- Percy and Annabeth leave Camp for school

- Hazel and Frank go back to Camp Jupiter

- He spends his time alone in his cabin living in the vision he saw when the gods came to help them

- Piper is alive whispering soft words to him that everything is going to be okay

- That he is a person instead of Hera‘s shallow Champion

- They even help him to continue his designs for the minor gods temples

- But soon his love for her turns to desire

- He knows that she is not really with him and who is responsible for it

- He does not want to sit around anymore doing exactly what Hera would want him to do

-“I…..I can‘t do this anymore Pipes.“, He tells her one night his body trembling in despair

-“Yes you can Jason! You are a hero that always stepped up to do what‘s needed.“ She says her words piercing into Jason‘s heart like her dagger

-To him, they feel like an accusation

- All of the sorrow and anger boils up in him

- He does not notice the wind around him growing stronger, or the thunder from outside

- He is tired of Hera, tired of being too perfect

- The papers are thrown across the room and he stands his body shaking with rage

- A yell of defiance leaves him and the storm sends lighting to hit the Cabin

- The Campers find Jason sitting still in smouldering remains

-His eyes are closed tears running down his cheeks but there is a smile on his face

- Invisible chains put on by Hera have just been broken

- Jason never felt more alive

-“I‘m done being their servant Chiron and you should be too.“, that is Jason‘s goodbye, a reminder that the centaur should be a protector not a trainer of child soldiers

- No one follows him when he leaves not even Nico

-They all saw the cold bitterness in Jason once-loyal blue eyes, they all feel his calm aura like wolve ready to strike everyone that comes to close

- Jason is glad for their fear

- He does not want anyone innocent getting hurt in his crazy plan

- Jason fly away but still stays close to the sea

- The papers of the minor gods are destroyed but he can still remember all of their names

- Kymopolaia is the first one he calls on the beach of Montauk

- She emerges from the water in all her glory and Jason can‘t suppress his joy

-He acts like Jason grace always did

- Flattering, his compliments even making the violent storm goddess blush

- Only when she wonders why he is here that he shows her a few of his true emotions

- He talks about how Hera forced his mom to give him to the wolves

- He tells her about all the friends that he lost to Hera‘s obsession with tormenting him, how much Piper and Leo gave him hope for a home, how the queen of the gods let them die

-When he is finished high waves are fluting the beach while Kymopolaia cries in pity for the young hero

- Jason‘s apology enrages her even more

-“The twelve Olympians will never respect or honour anyone who is not useful to them.No matter how many temples I build for them you are just a goddess of lower rank just like I was just their servant. I would just waste my time trying to fix their mistakes and in the end, neither of us would get what they want.“, He says true regret in his voice

-Poseidon's daughter grits her teeth while high waves flute the beach as her body is shaking

- Jason confirmed what she has been dreading since the war ended and her father made up excuses to exclude her from his royal court

-He comforts her and he can tell how he stirs up her hate for Posidon

- Jason can barely hide his satisfaction, his plan is working just like hoped it would

- He advises her to turn the sea against her father, it‘s her birthright after all

- Kymaploaia‘s eyes fill with a mad gleam, a whirlpool around her shows agreement

- She is not afraid to take on the sea, hundreds of tormented river gods will stand behind her angry because they had been forbidden to kill the humans that hurt them every day

-After Jason wished her good luck she leaves and he lets out a laugh of satisfaction

-Words can be more powerful than lightning he learned that from Piper

- A part of him still despises what he has become but he tells himself that Hera turned him into this

- She created a weapon and now she has to deal with the consequences

- He continues to travel all over the country flying over it with his storm horse, never staying at one place for long as he is sure the eyes of Hera are on him

- Every stop brings a talk to another minor god

-Hypnos and Morpheus are easy to convince

-Every mortal needs to sleep and dream so why are they never invited to mount Olympus throne room?

- Jason orders them to rebel against the Olympians in the cities of the demigod Camps first

-It is the only way to ensure that his friends will stay out of his way

- Aelous is harder

- The mad lord of the winds always hated demigods and he is not pleased when Jason holds the dozens Venti he sends to kill him still in the air with one move of his hand

-Jason uses no charm on him but instead reminders of all the times Zeus forced him to deal with storm spirits all by himself

-The idea that he can banish the storm spirits once and for all after Zeus is gone finally convinces him

-But Jason still wants the god to know that he is the leader of this rebellion who should not be messed with

- So he concentrates and moves his hands to control the storm spirits again

- He can feel their anger through the winds but he still manages to force them to turn into wolves their lightning eyes blazing with hatred

-“You will serve me from now on.“, He orders them through his mind his voice sounding like thunder in their heads and they indeed bow their heads before him

-Aelous only laughs at this sight

-“You have changed Jason Grace! If you are ready to rebel against your father just because of the Aphrodite girl and that son of Hephaistus then you are just as crazy as me.“ The lord of the winds jokes when Jason is about to leave with his new wolves

-“I‘m just ready to do anything for the people I love.“, Jason replies coldly

-From Olympus Hera hears those words too

- They seem a weak excuse for all the chaos Jason has caused

-The sea has been stormy for days swallowing ships and fluting beaches while the cities are fluted by rivers

- Zeus is barely able to control his winds and so the weather jumps from hot to cold in minutes

The gods own children are sleeping alongside hundreds of mortals unable to help their parents

- Hera knows that Jason will make things even worse if he is not stopped now

- But her love for him or rather the love for his loyalty to her is what makes her believe that she can bring him back

- Not herself she is not that naive

- Only one person can and even though she is gone Hera has figured a way to use her against Jason

-If only she could see the cruelty of her tricks

- Jason begins to hear Piper‘s voice again in his dreams

- She is not soft with him anymore

- Instead, she tells him how terrible he has become, that he acts like a pathetic child just because he failed to save her

-He yells that he is doing all this to get justice for and Leo but that only makes her laugh so loud that he has to cover his ears to drown it out

- Sometimes he also hears Leo mocking him, saying that he can‘t believe he ever looked up to him

- Jason wakes from those nightmares in sweat and tears until he decides that sleep is overrated

- He feels more comfortable moving around with his wolves anyway, it reminds him of old times, his childhood

- Unfortunately, his sleep deprivation changes his methods to gain more allies

- The nature spirits (Nymphs and dryads), aren‘t met with his charm but instead little patience and quick anger

- To Jason they are dumb, Zeus hit on them for centuries why are they so unwilling to turn against him?

-He tries to stay calm but their talks about how his plan is insane to remind him of Piper and the things she said in his dreams

- Not only once does he command his venti to burn whatever three or plant annoys him too much, the wolves happily oblige and tore the spirits apart with their electricity sparking teeth

- More and more Jason Grace begins to remind them of Zeus, unforgiving, cruel to anyone that does not obey his wishes

-When a young dryad girl dares to say that to Jason out loud he snaps

-A huge thunderstorm is summoned, lightning blasting the girl loved ones

-The forest burns in bright orange flames and Jason uses the winds to direct them towards the girls three

- She dies screaming in the flames while storm wolves bite at her to electrocute

- Jason grins at her Beggs as he looks directly into her beautiful dark eyes, Hera has those too

- Nature decides to join him out of fear

- The gods will be mad but it is the only way to avoid Jason‘s rage

-Jason feels powerful riding past them on his horse while they bow

-He can feel the wind gods around him ice cold, hot like fire

-On mount Otrys he calls for Hecate as the next step for his plan

- When she ignores his call he does not care

- Electricity runs through his veins power, it does not matter if he has to wait a bit until Olympus falls

- Suddenly a voice calls him making his blood turn cold

-He turns his head to look behind him and as expected no one is there

-He tells his rising panic that it was not real, he just hasn‘t slept for four days

- The temperature drops, darkness crawls over the hilltop, he feels watched

-“I‘m here Jason it‘s okay.“, Her voice is sweet close and yet it makes him shiver in fear 

- It can‘t be her

- Jason draws his sword and gets on his horse, the wolves growl restlessly as they can feel their master distress

-“Who are you? Show yourself!“, He demands despite his shaking voice

- Her laughter is loud wild like the summers breeze, he has heard it a thousand times before

-His eyes fly around frantically there is only the shadows of the rising night

-“I‘m your girlfriend Jason! Did you already forget that?“, the girl that can‘t be her asks amused

- A person stands in front of him out of nowhere

-Jason‘s sword falls to the ground, his eyes fill with tears

-Her clothes are nothing she would wear and yet he would recognize her blind

-Piper McLean, the love of his life stands there in a white long dress, her dark brown hair falls loose around her shoulders, her eyes of lighter brown are reaching into his soul

-“No…...this is a trick! You…….you are dead.“, Saying it hurt but it was the truth

- His venti flicker with lighting in agreement

-“I……..don‘t know why they let out but does that matter?!, I‘m here and….I missed you.“, Piper sobs, her despair finally washes away his doubts with guilt

-He slides off his horse ignoring the suspicious neighing

-Jason goes to her slowly putting his hand on her cheek, she feels real

-“I missed you too Pipes.“, He croaks and then breaks down pulling her against his chest all pain of losing her, the hatred against Hera, the things he did to convince gods and spirits to rise against their rulers, even the nightmares in which she hated him, spilling out of him

-He is scared of her backing away when he is finished, of her making his horrible dreams come true

-Instead, she looks flattered and sad as she puts a hand on his chin

-“Perhaps that is why they allowed me to leave the underworld.“, She says so softly and Jason is caught in confusion and overwhelming relief that she does not hate him

-“What do you mean?“, Jason asks suddenly feeling worried, the gods would never allow someone to cheat death especially someone close to him

-“I think the gods want me to save you from yourself.“, Piper answers with concern,

-Jason looks at her stunned then as he processes her words anger rises in him

.-Yes it does sound like Hera to use Piper that way

-“No Pipes I never felt better ! They are just scared because I make their system fall apart.“, He responds not able to hide his pride,

- He is happy that she worries for him but he wants her to know that he is okay that they are okay

-He wants to squeeze her hand as recurrence but Piper steps back with guilt in her eyes

“ Jason…….you haven‘t slept for days and all those burnt nature spirits? This isn‘t you.“, She says her words soft but they are too much like his dreams

-“Yea I have been a bit crazy lately but only because I want to make them stop Pipes. All those mistakes or wars of the gods that we have to die and fight for. Losing Leo and you was something I don‘t want any other demigod to go through. I want us to live in peace and that is only possible if we aren‘t controlled by an egoistic good and his controlling queen.“, He explains and despite his fear, he means every word

- He just wants Piper to understand so that she will fight at his side again

-The image brings a smile to his face

-The two of them standing in front of a chained up Hera in all their glory

-Piper brings him back with a sigh and the deep pity in her eyes fills him with despair

-Why is she so against opposing the gods, Wasn‘t she the one that cursed Hera and despised how the goddess put herself in charge of his life?

-A dread rises in the back of him, he suppresses it quickly

-“Our lives aren‘t controlled by the gods Jason. The fates are the ones that decide what challenges a hero has to face. You are wasting your time and ruining your own life fighting for something that will never change. Call off the rebellion Jason and tell the gods to be actual parents. Tell them to protect their children from their destines as long as possible and then go home to rest. That would be easier than a war you can‘t win.“, Piper finally says

-Despite all of his anger Jason has to admit that her advice is tempting

- The vision of him growing old with Piper could come true plus he truly is not strong enough to fight fate itself so why not ask the gods for a favour? Maybe he can convince them to change after all he is the favourite of their rulers

-But then a thought washes away that option and he figures a way to tell Piper why the Olympian council needs to be reformed

- When Piper takes his hand again he looks at her with determination

“I can‘t. Hera loves using demigods too much. Look what happened to Leo. She claimed that she wanted to prepare him for his future just to let his mom die and let him sacrifice himself. You once said that heroes have to step up and do what is right and that is what I‘m doing right now.“, He explains

-For a short moment he thinks guilt washes over Pipers face

- Suddenly he realizes how strange her pleading was

-Piper always was someone to take action, she would never tell him to just do nothing and the way she almost took all fault from the gods……..

-“Hera only did that because she knew what Leo‘s role in the war was gonna be. She may not be the best but she is not our enemy Jason. She cared for Leo and she cares about you too.“, Piper says and now Jason is sure

- He rips his hand away from her his eyes burning with rage

-“Piper would never defend Hera ! Who are you?“, He asks coldly anger numbing the shattering of his heart

-The girl looks at him in confusion, he hates that she does it through Pipers eyes

“ Jason -“

-“ Don‘t! Stop using her voice and show yourself! I want to know which god I have the honour to kill!“, Jason spats

- At this moment he forgets all of his good morals, only blind hatred is left

-The Venti come to his aid, they swirl around him like a mini hurricane and he can feel their power pulsing through him, waiting for his command

-“I‘m just trying to help you Jason even if you could kill me that would not solve anything.“She warns but it is still Piper's voice and he will make her pay for it.

-“Oh no I think this will make me feel a lot better and if Hera send you just know that what happens to know is her fault, not mine.“, Jason says with a cruel smile before turning his storms to pure lightning

- with a hand wave the spirits turn into pure lightning crashing into where she stood

-Flames light up the hill but she is not there anymore

-A huge dove is in her place attacking immediately scratching at his face

-Dark clouds gather thunder is booming, rain falls,

-the Windlords themselves lift Jason into the air pushing his attacker away

- He does not need his sword

- The sky is his weapon

-Jason chases the goddess, calls cold wind to let hail fall onto her instead of rain

- Lightning strikes and he catches it in his bare hands, it flickers over his entire body until it gets thrown towards his victim

-Despite all of this the dove keeps trying to get closer, her voice pleading for him to stop his madness

- A hysterical laugh is his answer, he remembers a time where the gods loved him for his kindness, the same one that forced him to keep Heras chains on him for too long

- This goddess is treating him like he is still a pawn but that will end now

- Jason spins himself around his arms outstretched

- Wind blows around him, the dove shrieks in panic

- A tornado is throwing her around in circles like a puppet

- She changes form to other animals, attempts to escape through the cloud storms walls

- That is when they become pure lightning

- it hits her makes her body twist unnaturally

- She falls and Jason is still in the storms eye, He feels like a god bathed in his fathers lightning bolts

- The goddess unmoving body beneath him looks so tiny almost fragile even when she has changed to her Olympian form

- He would have pitied her if he hadn‘t recognized her, now he only feels disgusted

- Another shockwave is sent through her body before Jason dissolves his tornado

- The wind gods hesitate for a moment not liking what Jason might have in mind

- Jason is stronger and so they follow him down towards his victim as only a soft breeze

-“Why?“, He spats down at her as she wakes up

- His short question holds her crime all the pain and false hope she put him through

- She gets on her knees to look up at him her ever-changing hair clothes and eyes even her skin that is healing her burns are no beauty to him anymore

-“Hera and I only wanted to help you Jason.“, Aphrodite apologizes maybe there are real tears in her eyes

-“ I need help? I‘m not the one impersonating my dead daughter to manipulate her boyfriend!“, He spats finding her trick even more disgusting as he puts it into words

- He thinks about how she held him, what would have happened if he did not find out who she was

- He feels dirty

“I always take on the form of loved ones that's why Hera send me. She knew that Piper was the only one to get you out of your grief. Love is the only thing more powerful than hate“, Aphrodite explains and with every word, she looks more and more like Piper again

- Jason realizes that she is just as bad as Hera, another god that messed with his mind

- He sees how heavy she is breathing, it is time to punish her

-“Well then let me tell you something about love.“, Jason says making a pulling motion with his hands reaching for her breath

- He bends the oxygen out of her, the goddess head being forced forward

-The winds grow stronger again, he hears their whispers to not do this, he is deaf to their pleads

-“N – No!“, She protests in horror, her body glows attempting to release her true form but his attack surprised her and is now making her too weak

-Jason continues an air bubble forming around her head

-She digs her nails into her throat until they are bloody, her eyes nearly pop out of her skull and her face is an ill shade of blue

- the chocking noises she makes are music for him

-Jason enjoys every second

-Her looking like Piper does not save her

- It only reminds him more of the future he has lost and that makes him more furious

-When her sounds and body become still and her face is one mask of fear he finally tells her

-“Love never lasts long in this world.“

-No air gets added to the bubble, it dissolves

- An Aphrodite goddess of Love and beauty falls dead to the ground killed by her daughter's lover

- Jason feels empty

- He just killed a goddess he should feel ecstatic

- But instead, he feels as if something broke inside him

-Jason stares at the sky waiting for a reaction

-“ Come on Hera! This is what you wanted me to become right? A murderer your weapon. Just come to me and admit it !“, Jason yells tears streaming down his cheeks

-He falls to the ground as the thing he did crashes down on him

-He killed for revenge just like Zeus, Hera and all other gods did for centuries

-How is he better than them now?

-His allies seem to think the same thing

-Jason can‘t summon his venti in the morning

- The winds are harder to bend under his will

- Nature hides from him it does not matter how much he burns no one shows up

- Sometimes he hears the spirits weeping but he knows it is not meant for him

- Jason gets more and more desperate

- As of last hope he goes to San Fransisco

- The first step he takes into the city shows him that it‘s full of life again

-He plays with the thought of going back to Camp Jupiter

- But he does not want his friends to see what he has become

- On Ocean Beach, he yells for Kym

-Jason tells himself that she can help him turn his fate around

-“I‘m sorry Jason but I don‘t talk to traitors.“, She whispers from under the sea

-Jason feels like a wolve being cornered

-“ I never betrayed you the gods did !“ He shouts his voice sounding childish in his ears

-“You promised to fight in my name and then went on a crazy rampage just to make Hera feel bad. I expected better from you Jason.“, Kym told him in a stern almost motherly tone

- The words are a punch to his gut, a mirror showing him the truth

-His plan was supposed to be a peaceful change of the god's council, yes he knew about the damage the minor gods would cause but that was just to get the higher gods attention

-He sees the dryad girl in the flames, aphrodite chocking as air is pulled out of her

-This rebellion started with a wish for justice for Leo and Piper, for all those treated badly by the gods

- His lust for revenge destroyed all that

-Regretful he walks into the sea the water going up to his knees

-“ I‘m sorry.“, Jason says honestly

-That is when they finally react

- The waves grow bigger a man with a trident emerging out of them, Nature spirits come out of their plants with pinecones and daggers for weapons the blond-haired woman with her crown of corn is their true goddess

- The mist rising around him lets him hear his victim screams once more

-“Jason Grace we are here to punish you for crimes against us and the entire western civilization. Surrender now or seal your fate.“All of the Command in Unison

-He thinks of giving himself up

-He was raised as a Roman, he learned when a soldier has no chance to win

- Yet the thought of kneeling and letting Hera win so easily makes him sick

- And so he refuses

- The fight does not take long

- Jason summons lightning to blast away Nyads that grasped his ankles

-He runs out of the sea directing lightning at the advancing Dryad warriors

-They burn but the flames seem to have gathered they're own concise

-Orange and high they rage towards him growing on sand which was not possible

-They burn Jason‘s arm as he attempts to fly over them

-Screaming in pain he struggles to stay in the air

-Demeter uses her giant staff to let the three roots attack him like huge arms

-Her followers throw weapons at histones that for some reason always hit no matter how much he uses wind to push them away

-Rain comes and turns into a huge rain shower blinding his view

-He is forced to fly backwards and that is when Poseidon's trident impales his gut

-Blood spills pain forbids him to breath

-His vision goes black before he falls in the threes arms

-Jason wakes in ironically on chains in front of Hera and Zeus

-"I hope you know what a disappointment you are to me.", Zeus says but Jason's eyes are fixed on Hera

-She looks at him with a deep sorrow he did not expect so he chooses the last beg

-" Whoever you choose as your next heroes Hera please don't control them. Remember me as a warning of what happens if you do.", He pleads

-He is scared of his punishment but if Hera realizes her mistakes then maybe all of this was worth it

-Hera only replies with a small nod

-Then he is dragged off to the underworld by Hades off to the cliffs that lead into Tartarus

Jason panics as he realizes

He thought that he would end up in the fields of punishment

-But of course, Zeus hates when his children ruin his good name

-He struggles against his bonds begs his uncle to at least let him see his friends one more time

Luckily Hades is one of the kinder gods 

-He summons Piper's ghost, he does not say why Leo is not there

-She smiles at him sadly and maybe with anger which Jason does not blame her for

-Her kiss on his forehead brings tears to his eyes

-"Goodbye Jason. I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble.", She whispers and he shakes his head

-"Don't be. All of this is Heras fault and mine.", He tells her and with that, she is gone again

-He thinks of her and Leo while he falls

-Hera mourns him for days

-She watches the rest of the seven holding his funeral at Camp Jupiter

-They understand his motives and that's why they still love him as the friend he was

-Hera understands him too

-She was not liked in the past few centuries and that was why the idea of her very own hero made her blind for letting him be a child

-Now that was what killed him and Zeus was already off making another hero that he can  be more proud of

-A child he warned her to not even look at

-The other demigods resent her even more

-Frank Zhang would be her other hero but Hazel Levesque would never let her near him

-She thinks about Jasons last words, his beg that she shouldn't mess with children's lives

-It's when Leo Valdez returns and learns of his friend's fate that she promises herself to remember

-The hatred in his eyes is enough to bring even a goddess to her senses 

[ipatrichor]

PAT YOU WORLDBUILD SO WELL HOLY SHIT!!! the stuff you come up with is interesting:0 also in the future reflection au, what are summons generally made to do/ used for? can they do magic of their own and summon their own summons?

thank you!!! <33 and oh boy, i'm glad you like my worldbuilding because you just asked the right question to unlock a Bunch More in the form of summon lore :D (it got Hella long so i'm putting it under a cut)

so first off, there are basically two different levels of summon. the first 90% are called familiars, and they're the ones that (like slime when he was first summoned) don't have the ability to take human form. again using slime as an example, it was able to take human shape (and even then, not a super convincing one) after centuries of gathering power- that should give a vague idea of the difference in power levels between familiars and other summons (known as lords)

lords, aka the remaining like- 10% of summons, are the most powerful. they already have human forms of varying levels of credibility, and are generally known in this world as folklore, myths, etc- think like ppl in our world trying to summon demons and make deals. it's a bit like that, only more socially acceptable!

(as a side note pertaining to tubbo- he'd be classified as a lord, because he already had a human shape when he was summoned, but he unnerves wizards strong enough to tell he's a summon because no one knows shit about him. lords are myths come to life, so how powerful must tubbo be for no one to have heard of anything like him? what other, even more powerful lords might be shrouded in secrecy??)

with classification out of the way, what summons actually do depends on who summoned them. they're hardly an uncommon sight- the requirement is finding some knowledge of summoning to perform the ritual, making a bargain, and having a willpower strong enough to anchor the summon. plenty of people can and do, and the rituals for weaker familiars are public knowledge

LOWER-CLASS: it's not uncommon for someone poor to have a summon in their family acting as a nanny or assisting with their work. you don't really have to pay summons and feeding them is technically optional (some like it, some don't, but they can't starve) so gentle familiars like cat creatures are helpful for watching kids while parents work and that sort of thing

BUILDERS/ARTISANS: a lot of construction work is done by summoners! since summons can be a good deal stronger than humans, they do a lot of heavy lifting (thus reducing workplace injury). in addition, there are also summons suited to fine detail work like jewelry and whatnot, so many craftsman will partner with a familiar to help their business

WIZARDS: depending on the kind of wizard, it's actually pretty normal for them to have a familiar depending on their specialty! for example, wizard scholars could have ones that record information, wizard lawyers might have ones that help them research/plan, wizard guards have ones that compliment their fighting style, etc.

CRIMINALS: familiars summoned here generally act as either spies/scouts or enforcers/bodyguards! their loyalty to their summoner is impossible to sway as long as they're not treated horribly (and very few would, knowing how useful it can be to have a creature dedicated to you), and their inhuman abilities depending on the type of familiar summoned makes them incredibly useful

NOBILITY: i saved this one for last because it's a bit more complicated. see, with nobles (especially wizard nobles) familiars and the rare lord are used primarily as a show of status. because summoning requires a will strong enough to anchor the summon (thus making having more than one pretty rare), the more powerful a summon/the more you have, the more of a living show of power you become and the more status/influence/respect you earn for your family. practically, besides being there to be shown off, these summons also work as personal servants/bodyguards depending on their abilities

and that's the first question! for the second one, i'm going to have to go a bit deeper into the mechanics of summoning. the simple answer is yes, they can do magic just not as we understand it, and no, they cannot summon other familiars :'

so basically, how summoning works is that you use the magic from this world/dimension/plane of existence to yoink a being from another one and drop them in a nice little trap circle until one of three things happens: a) a deal is reached and the summon is bound to you, b) you made a mistake in the ritual and it escapes, potentially murdering you depending on how pissed it is about said yoinking, or c) no agreement is reached so you send it back and end the ritual

in the first option, when a deal is made you use your willpower to take the magic from this world and sort of- tether the summon, to you and to this plane of existence. this is a lot easier if they aren't fighting you on it, especially since the more powerful they are the more willpower they have, and so (not even getting into the morality of it) that's another reason it's better to just release an unwilling summon and try again another time

other than that link that comes from the contract, though, summons are completely alien to this world and disconnected from its magic- they can't use it, it doesn't claim them, all that good stuff. that's why they can't summon- they don't have the tie to this magic that would be necessary to bind another summon.

they can, however, use magic of their own! it doesn't fit with the general understanding of magic, coming from an internal source instead of external yet not harming the user- completely not following the known rules of magic, since it comes from a different dimension

other fun facts:

- while summons can't summon on their own, they can suggest modifications to a ritual to summon friends of theirs/other beings they know in their plane

- the magic summons use is different from soul magic because it stems from willpower, not from burning up someone's soul. technically, summons don't really have souls?? at least not in the way people here understand them

- wizard scholar gem initay recently proposed a theory that having stronger willpower than a summon is not, in fact, strictly necessary unless the contract is being forced. she argues that especially in the case of lords, the only reason any have been bound is because they allowed it out of curiosity or interest in the contract, and actually have much greater willpower than any human

[khaleesiofalicante]

HI, IT'S ME! YOUR LOCAL CHAOTIC WEIRDO!!!!! I'M BACK AGAIN LIKE I AM TWICE EVERY WEEK

IT'S MY BOY DAVID THIS TIME! WHY AM I SO HYPER! MAYBE BECAUSE THEY KISSED! AND I HAD TO SUPPRESS MY SCREAMS BCAUSE IM IN CLASS AND THE REST OF MY FAMILY IS OUTSIDE MY DOOR (NOT LITERALLY OFC)

OK OK OK OK OK OK

MAX AND DAVID ARE AT THE LONDON INSTITUTE YESYESYESYES

He rather liked that part in a story – when the hero fell, and everything seemed bleak. It always meant that hope was just around the corner. Because darkness never lasted. It was always followed by light. There was nothing more beautiful than that kind of sunrise.

THIS

I literally live my life by this analogy

AHHH DAVID IS ON HIS TRAVEL YEAR AND MAX IS WITH HIM

SCREAM

well i can't scream because my mom is sitting right there and I have class in 4 minutes so imma smile really wide

“Are you planning to read the entire library during your travel year?” Max chuckled.

“Of course not,” David replied. “I will need longer than a year to accomplish that goal.”

Me.

Wait

does max not being able to make portals have something to do with his lineage?

like

demon parent

ok so my programming class started 2 minutes early but screw programming I'm gonna be studying minds not this shit

ok that's a very bad attitude for someone who needs good grades in this year

Max was always hungry.

this is so me

KIT

KIT

KIT

KIT

KIT

KIT

TY

THEY MENTIONED TY

also if David doesn't become an institute head in the future THEN WHAT'S THE POINT

“Where is the kitchen?” Max interrupted.

max is such a mood

He had told Max that he had centuries to perfect his magic, that there was no need to rush it. Max had given him a noncommittal nod and nothing more.

HE'S GONNA MAKE THE BEST PORTALS YOU'LL SEE

“I won’t tell the Consul,” Kit winked.

At the mention of the Consul, David straightened up. He had been trying to get into Alec Lightwood’s good graces for years now. He didn’t think sharing a room with his son would do him any favors.

DAVID UDUCDFUHKDUHVUHSDH

PLEASE IF WE DON'T GET A CUTE ALEC AND DAVID SCENE SOON

KIT CALLED TESSA MOM

oh my god

Word was that Mr. Herondale had gone back to his obsession with brewing tea.

JACE

I have so many emotions right now but all I'm gonna say is that I'm so so proud of Rafael

“Do you not want to sleep with me?” Max asked.

UH-

WELL-

DAVID STOP THINKING ABOUT THE FUTURE AND ALL THE SHIT

STOP IT

OH MY GOD THE ONE BED TROPE

MAX IS IN HIS ARMS I'M ABOUT TO-

takes a deep breath don't scream. everyone outside this door thinks you're taking programming class

OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY

AWW JULIAN PAINTED PORTRAITS FOR THE INSTITUTE

The one of Will Herondale and Tessa Gray – A love that had transcended reality and lasted a lifetime.

The one of James Herondale and Cordelia Carstairs – A love that had started with a lie and then blossomed into nothing but happiness and devotion.

The one of Lucie Herondale and Jesse Blackthorn – A love that had been so powerful that it rewrote the past.

The one of Jace Herondale and Clary Fairchild – A love that had walked through hell and shaken up the heavens.

And then there the final one. The one of Kit Herondale and Tiberius Blackthorn – A love that had survived distance and darkness and doom.

This omg...

He wanted a love story. The kind he read in the books. The kind he saw in these portraits.

But he wasn’t a Herondale. He wasn’t sure if he was destined for that kind of love.

HEY

DON'T THINK LIKE THAT

The first part though

same

He might have been a little too excited. It was biologically impossible to control yourself when you find a stranger reading your favorite book in the whole world.

SO TRUE

“I see you already made a new friend,” Max said.

He sounded a little…odd. As if he was not pleased that David had made a new friend.

honey...

take a guess

can I jump in and bash their heads together?

“You are thinking of conjuring chocolate syrup, aren’t you?” David chuckled.

“How do you always know what’s on my mind?” Max chuckled back.

Because I know you, David wanted to say. I just wish I knew what’s in your heart too.

OH MY GOD I CANT WITH THIS

“You get chocolate syrup! You get chocolate syrup! You get chocolate syrup!” Max was yelling, standing on the chair.

They residents laughed harder, and David shook his head fondly. He hoped one day Max would pursue a career in theatre. He was a born showman.

can I have chocolate syrup?

also, the way David is just so fond of him like DYUSDGYJCDYUJM

“By the angel, do you have to be a drama queen about everything?” the boy next to them muttered – not so quietly.

David blinked. That was uncalled for.

But Max being Max was completely unfazed. “Of course I do. My Bapa would be personally offended otherwise.”

exactly you rude little shit

Max often pretended like people’s words didn’t hurt him - just as he pretend that fire doesn’t burn or wounds don’t bleed.

wow ok stop calling me out

Is max jealous??????

is he??????

how are people so good at languages like damn

TY

TY

TY

TY

“Oh my god,” Max groaned. “Is he already telling people to check on me?”

LMAO

using mundane medicine...

that's risky

but it's also something that WILL help

can't warlocks tamper with the blood samples?

A part of him wondered if that’s why he had agreed to send Max away to London – at least for a week. Because sometimes you didn’t want other people to see you were hurting.

alec I really goddamn hope you're dealing with this well

some of whom had even decided to die than get help from a warlock.

alright then gets my knives but you chose this :D

Nobody brought a book down for breakfast if they didn't like to read.

yes but sometimes also to seem busy so people won't bother you or you won't look alone.

“I know,” the boy said as he walked past them to the gate. “I sat on the stairs and thought about life for a few good minutes.”

his family is the one who took over David's previous institute (i can't spell that. marse- marselli- wat??) methinks.

The gang always visited whenever all of them were in the city together. They would have so much fun! Of course, the 'fun' mostly entailed Rafael stopping Georgia from drinking random potions she found in the stalls, Selena stopping Lexi from opening a psychic booth to help people talk to Raziel and of course David stopping Max from running to the gambling booths.

LMAO, I CANT WITH THIS-

Rafe: I am anxiety.

me at any given moment

EW TESTICLES HE'S EATING THOSE-

ok maybe I'm the only person who's really picky when it comes to food and doesn't eat the majority of things

“Anything on Magnus Bane?” Max asked.

“No,” the woman snapped and shoved some of the letters into a bag and hide it under the table. “Leave Magnus Bane alone!”

“Appreciate your loyalty,” Max winked at her and started examining a diary.

I like her.

"Everyone should be participating in this" -my programming teacher

me, an intellectual: participating in what?? goes to the class web THE FUCK IS THAT

“Something for the shadowhunter?” the woman smiled. “Perhaps an unpublished snippet from the Beautiful Cordelia?”

“Do you have any love letters?” David asked.

“Hmmm,” the woman went through the pages. “I do have a correspondence between an Iblis demon and Christopher Lightwood? Would you be interested in that?”

if u don't mind I would love to see both of those-

you know I just remembered I have a computer assignment I need to submit by the end of this week fml

“Never fall in love with an immortal,” she giggled again. “We don’t like staying in one place.”

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

MAX WHERE ARE YOU

why are we using x and 3 in programming class what the heck is going on

“I’m not just some warlock,” Max said, his voice low. “I’m Magnus Bane’s son.”

GIVE HIM THAT NECKLACE BACK

we usually have programming once a week on our physical school days and those are fun because my and my friend are continuously passing notes and talking to each other through writing

The scene where Max fought off all the evil people who tried to steal his valuable belonging. He would fight without breaking a sweat and throw magic fireballs at everyone and then get his necklace back. And then he would kiss David in front of everyone and it would somehow rain all of a sudden.

But life wasn’t a movie or a book. Life was just life.

life's boring

fuck life

I just heard a student ask "why are we not taking out the values of b and c" BESTIE I THOUGHT WE WERE DOING PROGRAMMING AND NOT ALGEBRA?????

“I know there wasn’t anyone to protect you before,” Magnus Bane had said. “But we are here now. We will protect you. This will protect you.”

He hadn’t wanted it back then. He didn't even want it even now.

He didn’t want something to protect him. Most importantly, he didn’t want to cover his scar. He didn’t want to hide it. He wasn’t ashamed of it. It wasn’t a mark of a victim. It was the mark of a survivor.

So, David had smiled and given the bracelet back.

“I never wanted to be protected,” David had replied. “I only ever wanted to be loved.”

The warlock had smiled at that and given David a hug. It had felt different than other hugs he had experienced since he had come to New York.

It wasn’t just the magic. Magnus Bane carried so much love inside himself you could literally feel it through him.

I'm gonna cry during my programming class (where we're doing variables apparently all of a sudden??)

this is so beautiful

“I wasn’t talking about Bapa,” Max said now. “I was talking about the other one.”

David chuckled at that. “Oh, yeah. He is definitely going to kill you.”

what flowers would you like at your funeral?

so Jackson has family troubles

I've definitely got that

yeah I know what it's like to be jealous of someone else's perfect family

JACKSON WTF

Is he trying to ruin max's relationship with his family???

oh hell no

JACKSON THE AUDACITY

“One stolen necklace, One broken nose and One bruised cheek,” he said. “And you’ve been in London for less than a day.”

kit seriously? but is he wrong though?

“This is what I get for falling for a Lightwood-Bane,” David sighed and walked through the portal.

WELL AT LEAST HE'S SELF AWARE

Jackson...

in some ways, I can empathize with him. my younger self anyway. but Jackson this is not how you do things

There was a moment of silence and then Magnus Bane giggled.

“I do love it when the quiet ones go feral,” the warlock grinned.

MAGNUS

NOT.THE.TIME

(me too)

“David!” Mr Herondale gasped. “Is your hand okay?”

yup that's Jace y'all

David hated violence. He hated fighting – which he was often not allowed to say out loud considering he was a shadowhunter.

But it was the truth. He hated hurting people – or even things. It made him feel sick.

“It’s alright, Chouchou,” Mr Herondale ran a hand through David’s hair. “Next time, just-”

“Use my words?” David asked.

“Just don’t get caught,” the man winked.

and that is why I would never want to be a shadowhunter.

I know saying that doesn't do anything but when I first read tsc I wanted to be a shadowhunter really badly and damn that was some time ago but now...violence of any kind is my biggest trigger idek why. and I hate that so much because what kind of a person gets triggered by loud voices and fighting EVEN ON SCREEN??? I usually just push myself to watch stuff because it's dumb. I refuse to see trigger warnings before reading a book or watching a show because damn it, I should be able to stand those things I'm, not a child. and it may be doing me more harm than good but I shouldn't feel like this in the first place

okay...that was long

ANYWAY

“David, I appreciate you standing up for Max,” the Consul said. “But next time, please try not to punch anyone in the face.”

“Yes, sir,” David nodded. “Because it’s wrong.”

“Because it means more paperwork for me,” the Consul groaned and then straightened up. “But yes. Absolutely. Very wrong. No punching people!”

LMAO ALEC

Jackson...

oh

oh

oh

I was wrong then

He was grinning. Magnus Bane must have raised hell in the shadow market.

that must have been fun

Max was doing that thing where he was not trying to pout but he was mostly definitely pouting. It made David want to kiss him. But then the Consul spoke, and David reminded himself he didn’t want to be the third person to get punched in the face this evening.

well-

“I understand that Jackson has been through a lot. But that’s not an excuse for him to hurt those around him. I learned that lesson the hard way. So, you shouldn’t excuse his behaviour.”

someone's trauma and pain is never an excuse to hurt others

but that doesn't mean we should invalidate their trauma either

“You can stay back and try to help him. I won’t stop you,” the man got up now. “But if he tries to hurt you-”

“You will unleash hell?” David chuckled.

“Worse,” the other man grinned. “I will unleash Lexi.”

that is much much worse

Books brought him comfort in so many ways. Just holding one in his hands automatically made him feel better.

oh my god

he gets it

I always have a book with me when I'm out even if I'm not gonna get the time to read it because just the weight and comfort of it in my hands or in my backpack brings me so much comfort and helps with my social anxiety so much

no one understands when I try to tell them that

you get it...

someone gets it finally

AYYY IRENE

“David, it’s very sweet that you want to protect Jackson,” Kit pointed out. “But literally no one is buying that. Not even Irene.”

The lynx purred on his lap as if she agreed with Kit.

“I could break into a liquor cabinet,” David said a little indignantly.

David is the nicest you can get

David wouldn’t. Apparently, everyone already seemed to know that - even the lynx he had met five minutes ago.

we are solving something in class and it's really quiet because we're all doing our work (I'm reading the fic so-) and this one person had their mic open and they kept on whispering their steps and it was so weird I cant-

BUT YES DAVID IS A CINNAMON ROLL. EVEN THE LYNX KNOWS

“We were talking about shitty fathers,” Jackson pointed out. “You’re welcome to stay.”

“I’m gonna need something stronger than red wine for this conversation,” Kit chuckled.

I remember that bitch

David used to do it when he was a child. He used to pretend his life was a story. He used to pretend everything that happened to him was happening to some other boy – a boy who wasn’t real. A boy who lived inside a book. Because it hurt a little less when you pretend like it wasn’t happening to you.

But the pain was still very real.

OK YOU CAN STOP CALLING ME OUT NOW

“I fucking hate ogres,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Was your father an ogre too?” Jackson asked.

“He was more like a harpy,” Kit snorted. “He was always flying and fleeing. I didn’t know how deep his talons were in my head until it was too late.”

you really like traumatizing all your characters, don't you?

I really fucking hope the ogre got what he deserved

and if the angel is dead then fuck everyone

“I mean, there was that time when Sebastian Morgenstern turned my father into the endarkened, and then he went around killing people. So, I would say he was more like a zombie,” the man was explaining now. “The zombie father tried to kill me but my brother killed him first.”

“Good lord!” Jackson said in shock.

Kit chuckled softly. “Boy do shadowhunters need therapy.”

they really do

He knew about those from New York. He knew Mr Herondale and Miss Fairchild went for one together.

YES GET THEM THERAPY

“Yikes,” Kit chuckled. “I’d prefer something classier. How about London Boys?”

“None of us are from London though,” Tiberius pointed out.

“The Beatles are not actually beetles, Ty,” Kit chuckled. “It’s just for pizazz.”

damn guys

Then the idea of a band turned into a possible YouTube channel where they would react to cute animal videos.

YS DO IT

“When people do awful things, really awful things, at one point we stop being surprised. Like what Valentine did to his children or what our fathers did to us or what those women did to Rafael. We might have been shocked or disgusted. But it wasn’t unrealistic, was it?”

“I guess not,” the boy said.

“Even when they did the most unimaginable acts of cruelty, it somehow managed to fit into our imagination. We accepted that the world can be unrealistically cruel. The kind of cruelty we will never understand. But why isn’t it the same for kindness? Why is that when someone is too kind, we automatically feel uncomfortable? We judge their intensions or think they are just pretending to be nice. We think they are being unrealistic. Why is that?”

we get so used to cruelty that kindness feels weird

“But that’s how our life works, doesn’t it? It’s a giant ball of what ifs and could have beens and if nots. What if my father had loved me instead of hurt me? Could I have been kinder if I was hugged instead of being abused? Would have I been a different person if not for my trauma? Our lives are an endless collection of theories about our real selves. The one didn’t we never had the chance to become.”

THIS

I used to spend a bunch of time on the what-ifs but those are useless. so screw the what-ifs and live in the present

“I guess we’ll never know, Jackson. None of us will never know how we would have turned out if things had been different for us. We never got the chance to be who were meant to be. Instead, we became who we had to become to survive what we went through. We will never know our true selves. We only know the version of us that made it through all the trauma.”

“Christ, that’s depressing,” Jackson said.

“It is,” David nodded. “But we made it through. We survived. I think we should focus on that.”

you survived. that's what matters

“There is nothing wrong with wanting to be rescued,” David smiled.

I wish I had heard this before...

maybe I don't always have to be strong. maybe it's ok sometimes just want to be saved.

I'm so happy that both Jackson and David found each other

David had learned Gaelic. Jackson had learned how to play the piano.

They had laughed and lived and loved and learned.

And they had survived – one day at a time. The London Boys.

they survived.

I know I'm always key smashing and screaming but these words, these lines, all these chapters mean so so much to me.

“You’ll write to me, won’t you?” David asked, hugging Jackson closely.

“No,” Jackson replied. “I will FaceTime you like a normal person, you weirdo!”

David laughed at that. “I prefer letters. They are more emotional.”

“I’ll text you,” Jackson countered. “With emojis.”

oh to have someone write me letters.

I love writing letters

once at the end of a school year, I wrote little letters to everyone in my class anonymously. even the people who had been mean to me. that was like 1-2 years after my transfer to that school and everyone practically hated me but I wanted to do something nice because who knows what someone is going through. I ended up not putting them in people's desks...

I threw them all away :)

but writing letters is superior

I often write my feelings down and give the letter to someone rather than talk to someone

if you receive a letter from me or a custom-made gift...you have reached my ultimate friendship

oh my god. THIS IS HOW I SHOULD TALK TO ONE OF MY FRIENDS ABOUT MY FEELINGS

It's kind of been a mess between us and I want to talk to her but I didn't know how to.

this is why i shouldn't send asks-

JACKSON CATCHING UP ON MAX AND DAVID

“You know what it means,” Jackson grinned harder. “Also, if that wanker tries to break your heart, I will break his face.”

“You know he is the Consul’s son?” David giggled.

“I’ve done it once and I will do it again,” Jackson shrugged. “He better treat you right.”

"wanker"

I HAVE A BRITISH ONLINE FRIEND AND THEY CALLED OUR AMERICAN ONLINE FRIEND A WANKER

AND OUR OTHER BRITISH FRIEND JOINED IN

WHILE ALL THE NON-BRITISH PEOPLE WERE LIKE "huh"

Lexi had cut her hair even shorter. Her girlfriend apparently got something called an undercut.

“Just in case someone dared to assume we were straight,” she had winked at him.

how many years has this fake dating been going on...

CENTURION SELENA

fterA the twins went to bed, David stepped out of the institute and went looking for his heart.

"went looking for his heart"

OH FUCK I FORGOT TO JOIN MY CLASS

MAX STOP DEPLETING YOUR SELF GODDAMN

And then somewhere along the way, Max’s heartbeat had become the steadiest thing in David’s life.

Max, with all his chaos and drama and danger, had become the steadiest thing in David’s life.

oh my god that's a parallel from canon

“Tell me why.”

“Ain't nothing but a heart break!!"

Max-

Max could make fireballs that killed demons on the spot. He could summon things from anywhere. He could heal people with his eyes closed. He was one of the youngest warlocks allowed to visit the spiral labyrinth.

Max was a warlock in every sense. A good one. A great one even.

he is so talented...

Only idiots would underestimate Magnus Bane’s power.

EXACTLY

He is probably going to be Consul like next week.”

David chuckled. “Next week?”

next week????

“Yeah, his smoking habits,” Max rolled his eyes.

Rafael wasn’t the smoker in the family. He knew who it was, but David would never open his mouth. It wasn’t his secret to tell.

this keeps on getting better

“It’s my hair!” David laughed.

“And you’re my David!” Max argued. “I say you are not allowed to grow your hair.”

MY DAVID

MY DAVID

MY DAVID

“I don’t want to downworld-splain it to you.”

Max blinked and then laughed. “You don’t want to what?”

“Downworld-splain,” David mumbled. “It’s when shadowhunters explain downworlders how to be downworlders.”

they were SO close to kissing

I'm gonna get in there and lock them in a closet together and tell them to FUCKING GET WITH IT

Remember who you are. Remember where you stand.

remember who you are. remember where you stand...

I know this is supposed to be about portals.

OH MY GOD THEY KISSED

THEY KISSED

IM SO CLOSE TO SCREAMING CLASS AND EVERYONE OUTSIDE THIS ROOM BE DAMNED

OH MY GOD DAVID FELL

reminds me of when alec fell down the stairs-

OH MY GOD I'M GONNA SCREAM

WE'RE GONNA GET MORE MAVID CONTENT SOON I'M SCREAMING INTERNALLY UYDRVFY7VSDU7UYVFSDUYGCADUYIGJCDSHJKGDVCSUGISDVHVF

ok, I have a computer assignment to get to and tests to study for. BUT I LOVED THIS CHAPTER SO SO MUCH!! THEY FINALLY KISSED I'M SO HAPPY!!!!!

Also I know I tend to go off track and you can totally ignore that. i just go crazy. BYEE

This live blog gives me so much life you don't even know. I am go glad you enjoyed the chapter. I love hearing you rant about it. It's refreshing lol.

And I looooooove the lil anecdotes you share in between. Also wtf is a programming class like nobody wants to learn programme what kind of hetero nonsense I-

FINISH YOUR ASSIGNMENTS AND STUDY FOR YOUR TESTS I'LL SEE YOU SOON :)

[twinkleton]

at the end of the century - douxie x reader

Whew, this was a douzy to write! I'm so sorry about the wait, maybe it's length will make up for it! This is part two to my last fic, so be sure to give the first part a read if ya haven't! I wanted to include a familiar for the reader, but it just didn't make sense for the story. I'll happily write another fic that has a reader with one if anyone would like! Also, to avoid confusion, this takes place during the "first" battle at killahead. No time travel going on yet, obviously it's changed to where Douxie is involved in the fight. Hope you guys like it!

Tags: @purplesinnerw @clarencebells

As per usual for Camelot, its streets were bustling with its citizens up bright and early for morning shopping. Traders were bartering their newfound treasures, and parents were buying food and supply for their families. For Y/N however, she was neither a trader or a member of a family. She had nothing, except her magic. Of course she felt terrible tricking people into looking the other way while she grabbed onto a loaf of bread or an extra shirt she’d need, but in order to survive it’s what she had to do. After a while, the guilt can subside. She’d rather be doing this than have to rely on anyone ever again.

Still, as she leaned back against a wall, taking a bite out an apple she’d taken earlier, she couldn’t help but feel jealous at the sight of a little girl on top of her father’s shoulders, laughing along with her mother without a care in the world. She’d argued it was because of having to look at someone so privileged, but really it was because of having to look at someone so loved.

---------

Three years later,

Tensions had reached their peak between Morgana and King Arthur, and a war was about to begin against Gunmar and his army of Gumm-Gumms. Morgana had had enough of his mistreatment of magical creatures, therefore her loyalty to him was hanging by a thread. It didn’t seem enough that Arthur seeked help from the trolls of Dyoza, as she believed he only saw them as pawns. 

Back in Merlin’s study, him, Douxie, and Archie were discussing how to prepare for the upcoming battle, more specifically, what to do about Y/N. 

“No, we are not leaving her here!” Douxie shouts at Merlin. Archie gives him a concerned look.

“Douxie…” he says, trying to calm his friend.

“No, Y/N has never given us any reason to doubt her. How could you suggest such an idea as to lock her up until the battle is over? What has she ever done to deserve that?!”

“Hisirdoux, this is not about what she has done, but she potentially could do. We know how close she is to Morgana, and Morgana will say or do anything to persuade her to be on her side. With Y/N she has an advantage, an extra card in her deck. Keeping her here is only a precaution. It’s a way to keep Y/N safe and to keep Morgana from being stronger,” Merlin explains. 

Douxie isn’t convinced by that. He knows Y/N. He knows that she would not want to be stuck here while the rest of them go off and risk their lives for Camelot. And if Morgana sees her on their side, maybe Y/N could be the one to convince her to stop. 

“Clearly you’ve forgotten that she was the one that stopped me from bringing dark shadows into Camelot. Ever since she’s been here she’s done nothing except be the kindest and most understanding out of all of us. There’s nothing Morgana could say or do that would convince her to go against that.”

“I’m with Douxie,” Archie agrees. “Surely Merlin, you can have a little more faith in the girl. And with her training from Morgana, she could be our biggest asset against her and Gunmar.”

Douxie gives him a scratch behind the ear, silently thanking him. Archie beams at him. 

Merlin gives a sigh in defeat, not willing to argue anymore about the subject. “Alright, we won’t keep her here. However, should she side with Morgana, I fear her safety will be gravely-”

“What are the three of you up to?” As if summoned by them talking about her, Y/N walks in. 

All three of them stop in their tracks, faces blanched.

Douxie decides to sacrifice himself in explaining. “N-nothing Y/N! We were just uh..trying to calm down Archie! You know him, always been a scaredy-cat,” he nervously chuckles, picking up Archie and frantically petting him. Archie’s face screams unenthused.

“Ah yes, frightened I am.”

Y/N giggles at the absurdity going on. She walks over to Douxie, saving Archie from him. He relaxes in her arms, belly exposed for Y/N to give light scritches. 

“Aw, it’s alright, Arch. I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you, okay?” she playfully reassures. Despite obviously not needing the comfort, Archie purrs at that. Much like everyone she’s come across since being here, Archie full-heartedly loved her.

Merlin takes the opportunity to leave the room. “I must go. There’s still much to be done before the battle.” He stops at the door, turning to look at Y/N. “We all trust you, Y/N. Please, don’t let that be a mistake.”

She understands what he meant by that, and stays silent. Merlin takes his leave.

Douxie glares at where Merlin was standing moments ago. “Don’t listen to him. We know you’d make the right call with Morgana.”

Y/N lets Archie out of her arms, the familiar jumping onto the table. “I don’t know what to do. Morgana is adamant that Arthur will never see through his hatred with magickind.”

“Don’t you see Y/N? This is the only way to stop my brother and his tyranny.” Morgana had been hiding away, deep in the forest. The only person she trusted with her location was Y/N, on the condition that she swore not to reveal it to anyone else, or else their lives would be the first one targeted in the upcoming war. Y/N agreed to the terms. 

“And you honestly believe Camelot or the world even would be safer with someone like Gunmar? Once he defeats Arthur, there would be nothing to stop him from conquering everyone, including you. The world would be in shambles,” Y/N insists. It pained her heart arguing against Morgana, the first person in the longest time she’d felt safe with. It wasn’t easy for Morgana either. 

“What have I been trying to tell you from the moment you set foot in that castle? Arthur fears us, he fears Gunmar, me, and you. Magic is nothing to be afraid of. You’ve seen the wondrous things magic can do.”

“And I’ve also witnessed the horrible things it’s capable of. I know magic can be good, but people like Gunmar have to be stopped. Please Morgana, you can still do the right thing,” Y/N pleads.

Morgana turns her back on her apprentice, beginning to walk away. “The same could be said for you, my dear.” 

Despite her best efforts, Y/N can’t stop a tear from falling out of her eye. Douxie immediately walks over to comfort her, wrapping his arms around her. 

“I’m afraid, Doux,” she admits, grabbing onto the front of his tunic. “I spent years not trusting anyone, fending for myself, and the whole time I was so lonely.” Soft whimpers could be heard coming from her.

Douxie begins softly petting the back of her head, patiently waiting for her to continue. 

“Morgana was the one who saved me from that life, who gave me hope. She felt like the mother I never had.”

She slightly pulls away from Douxie, wanting to look at him. Looking into her grief-stricken eyes made Douxie almost want to agree to Merlin’s plan of keeping her here, just so she wouldn’t have to face Morgana. He knows she wouldn’t want to do that however.

“What if she’s gone after this? Will I be left all alone again?” Deep down she knows she wouldn’t be alone, but her paranoia was telling her other things.

“Never,” Douxie assures. He pushes her hair away from her face, pressing his hands against her cheeks. “I promise, darling. You will never feel alone ever again,” he swears. Y/N’s fears melt away with his words, her eyes refusing to leave his. They didn’t notice how close they had gotten until Archie interrupted. He hops onto Douxie’s shoulders, causing him to let go of Y/N in order to regain his balance. He lets out a huff of annoyance, with Archie giving him a cheeky smile. 

“Don’t worry dear Y/N. No matter what happens, Doux and I will always be here for you.” She smiles at that, giving Archie a loving pat on his head. 

“Thank you, Archie,” she says, looking back at Douxie to grin at him, implying that their moment wasn’t finished. Douxie gets the hint.

--------

Deya slams her amulet into the bridge, opening up the portal to seal away Gunmar and his army. Y/N had stayed with the trolls of Dyoza to help them against the Gumm-Gumms, leaving Merlin, Douxie, and Archie to defeat Morgana. 

The fight had gone too long for Merlin who was injured, weakening his magic. Archie had been knocked out earlier by a strong blow from Morgana. Douxie was holding his own despite Morgana being far stronger than him, however it didn’t last long. 

Pushing her hands away from her, a huge burst of dark wind cascaded the arena they were in, leaving Douxie and Merlin blind. Morgana seized the opportunity to trap them, tying them up in rope created by her magic. They struggled against them, but there was no use. Morgana started cackling with glee, believing she bested them.

“You fools! You should’ve known better than to go against me. You wasted your lives trying to protect my cowardly brother, and now all your squabbling will be for nothing!” Morgana rises into the air and raises her hand, a strong light pulsing from it, no doubt from her charging her final blow against them. 

Douxie frantically looks around for any sign of help or weapon to use. Finding nothing, his last resort is to use words.

“Morgana! Think about Y/N! You know she doesn’t want this!” he shouts, desperation clear in his words.

“Don’t act as if you care about what she wants! You only see her as your puppet, another pawn for you to use! She and all magickind will finally be free once all of you are gone!” A final pulse comes from her hand, the light so bright it hurts to even glance at. All hope deferred, Douxie’s final wish was for the truth to be heard. 

“You’re wrong! Y/N was the reason I changed for the better! I used to be whiny and immature-”

“Hisirdoux! Now’s not the time for a heart to heart!” Merlin interrupts.

Douxie ignores him, “I used to be bitter about the hand I was given, but Y/N gave me a reason to be grateful for what I had! She’s the brightest out of all of us, and I’m so, so lucky to have met her, befriended her, and fallen in love with her!” A wave of peace fills Douxie, accepting his fate. 

His words have left Morgana speechless. Doubt floods her mind, for the first time since this battle began. However, she snaps back into her fury. 

“Very well, you can die with a peace of mind. I’ll tell Y/N all about your feelings for her while she grieves over your dead body,” she maliciously answers. She throws her hand down, an enormous beam of light launches from her hand.

Douxie closes his eyes, waiting for the feeling of burning skin to come, but it never does.

“There won’t be any need for that, Morgana!”

He recognizes that voice, and his eyes shoot open. The ground beneath them shakes, as Y/N throws up a shield so large, it sends Morgana’s magic flying all across the other side of the room, most of it hitting Morgana herself. She lets out a cry, falling to the floor. 

Y/N sprints over to Merlin and Douxie, freeing them from the ropes.

Douxie gleefully says, “Y/N! You made it! You’re okay- how much of that did you hear?”

Y/N giggles, “Just that last bit. You know, the important bit.”

Douxie lets out an embarrassed chuckle. Archie, having finally woken up, flies over to the couple. “I’d hate to interrupt this lovely reunion, but we do have a ninth-level sorceress to take care of.”

They all turn towards Morgana. “Right, let’s finish this,” Douxie commands.

Douxie and Archie team up, using magic and fire to seal Morgana in a ring of flames. Morgana growls in anger. Y/N puts up shields all around her friends, blocking any of Morgana’s attacks from hitting them. When Morgana shoots her magic at Y/N, Merlin defends her, the bolt ricocheting off his staff and back towards Morgana. Douxie jumps towards Morgana, armed with a sigil designed to freeze her. He successfully reaches her, and the both of them are frozen in the air, except she has no control.

“Hurry! I can’t hold her that long!” Douxie warns. 

“You’ve lost yourself Morgana! Bound to dark magic,” Merlin yells, slamming his staff to the ground, a large sigil of his own covering the floor. 

“I have no choice but to seal you away!” He begins the spell, balls of light rising from the floor. Morgana is able to swing her staff at Douxie, throwing him across the room. However, before she can move, Y/N replaces Douxie, freezing Morgana once more with an even stronger hold. 

“Do it! Finish the spell!” Y/N shouts. 

Morgana screams in frustration. “How dare you, Y/N! I am the reason your life has meaning, I’m the reason for everything you hold dear! You’d be nothing if it weren’t for me!”

“I never was nothing! The only thing I used to be was alone! You’ve given me a family, and for that I’m grateful, but now I have to protect that family! And the only way to do that is to get rid of you!” Y/N turns toward Merlin, “Any day now!”

Merlin chants the final line of the spell, and a beam of light expels from his staff, hitting Morgana at her feet, encasing them in stone. The light slowly works its way up her body.

“I will destroy you all! No matter what it takes, no matter where you go, I will not rest until I’ve ended you and all that you love!” Morgana vows, hitting Y/N with a bolt, knocking her down. Douxie sprints and catches her before she hits the floor. 

Most of Morgana’s body has been encased, leaving only her torso and head free. “I swear on your lives I shall rise again!” 

“And we’ll still be here to stop you once more, buttsnack!” Douxie promises, firmly holding onto Y/N. Once all of her has been frozen, Merlin crosses his arms, finishing the enchantment. Y/N opens up a portal to the Shadow Realm, and Merlin hurls Morgana into it. The last thing heard from Morgana is fearful screaming as Y/N closes the portal.

With the battle finally over, everyone gives a huge sigh of relief, falling to the floor. Archie marches over to Douxie and Y/N, jumping on top of them and licking their faces.

“Arch! That’s disgusting,” Douxie complains with a smile, clearly not meaning it. Y/N hugs Archie, giving him a kiss on the forehead. Douxie beams at the both of them, feeling so content in the moment. 

He puts a hand on her shoulder, “Are you alright, love?” Archie hops off of Y/N, deciding to give them a moment alone.

“I’m okay, more than okay really. She was too far gone, there was nothing more we could do,” Y/N answers. “Now, about your little declaration of love there.”

Douxie nervously giggles, “Yeaahhh, about that. Look desperate times call for desperate measures! Had I known you were just going to waltz in anyway, I would’ve waited for a more romantic evening to confess my undying love for you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“There would’ve been flowers, music, little sweet buns iced with our initials toget-”

Y/N cuts off his rambling by grabbing his tunic with one hand, resting the other on his cheek, and pulling his lips towards hers. Their first kiss is a soft one, with Douxie wrapping his arms around her, pulling her even closer. They let each other go, feeling the sudden urge to laugh at one another for their impeccable timing.

“I love you too, Douxie. More than anything,” Y/N confesses.

Douxie grabs her face and pulls her into another kiss, convinced this is the happiest moment of his life.

Eventually, they remember they’re not alone. They look around to see Merlin passed out on the floor. 

“Merlin!” they both shout, running over to him. Archie apparently had been trying to wake them up, waiting for their moment to be over in order to tell them.

“Why didn’t you tell us he’d passed out?!” Douxie scolds.

Archie waves his paws in defense. “Pardon me, you know I’m all for happy endings. I just didn’t want to be the one to tell you it’s not over yet.” Douxie lets out a groan, slamming his hand to his forehead.

“When do you think he’ll wake up?” Y/N asks.

“Hopefully, soon,” Douxie answers, doubtfully.

--------

Nine centuries later, 

“FUZZBUCKETS!” Douxie screams in the air, being dragged along by a mephit he, Y/N, and Archie were trying to catch. 

“Don’t let go of it!” Y/N shouts, trying to sprint ahead of the creature.

“Ah yes dear, that was the plan all along! To free this poor tortured beast!” he yells sarcastically, before slamming into the ground for the fifth time that night.

“You know it was your sense of humor I fell in love with first!” she quips. She opens up a portal on the floor and jumps into it, opening up another one right in front of the mephit. She draws up a sigil that the mephit bounces off of, knocking him down.

“Ah well, luckily for you I’m quite the jester!” Douxie jokes. 

Archie swoops in and blows fire at the mephit, fatally wounding it. Douxie is then able to cast the creature away. They all let out shouts of victory, Y/N giving each of them a high five. 

“You know, one of these days you two will be the death of me. Maybe don’t start flirting with each other until you’re absolutely certain you’ve caught the shadow mephit,” Archie chides.

Y/N scratches behind Archie’s ear as a way of apology. “I’m so sorry dear husband over there insists on putting his hands on me at every available opportunity. He’s quite the scoundrel,” Y/N teases. 

Douxie scoffs at that remark, pretending to be offended. “Pardon me, dear wife. But if I recall correctly it was you who-” He doesn’t finish his sentence as he’s distracted by the lights suddenly flickering and then bursting. 

“Hisirdoux,” a voice calls out. 

“Is that…?” Y/N questions, looking around.

“I think it is…. Merlin!” Douxie grins in excitement, happy to know his master is finally awake. 

A green sigil lights up from underneath Douxie, making him jump back. Merlin rises up from it, except it’s only a projection of him. 

“Hisirdoux, my faithful apprentice-”

“You darn right I’ve been faithful. Who leaves a guy hanging for almost a millennium? You could’ve sent a raven, or a text! There’s texting you know!” Douxie whines. 

“It’s so good to see you, Merlin,” Y/N says with a smile, giving him a bow. 

Merlin smiles back, “Lovely to see you too, dear Y/N. I see Hisirdoux hasn’t tormented you enough to run to the hills yet.”

Y/N laughs, standing back up, “Actually, he’s done quite the opposite.” She raises her left hand, showing off the ring on her finger. Douxie wraps an arm around her shoulders, eyes staring lovingly at her. Merlin beams at the both of them, glad that they’ve had each other all the years. 

“Congratulations, you two,” Merlin proudly says. 

“Thanks, Master,” Douxie responds gratefully. The last nine hundred have been wonderful with her and Archie at his side.

Merlin clears his throat, “I’ve come here to task you all with a mission. You must bring the Guardians of Arcadia, with haste.” The projection of him fades away, leaving the three of them alone. 

“Errand boys once again, aren’t we?” Archie complains. Douxie lets out a sigh. 

“Don’t think of it as an errand, think of it as another adventure,” Y/N suggests, wrapping her left arm around Douxie and letting Archie climb on top of her shoulders. “It’ll be fun! You’ll see.”

Douxie chuckles, and brings his left hand to her head, pulling it closer to him to press a light kiss against her forehead. “With you, my love, anything’s an adventure.”

--------

Bonus, 

“Wait, so the two of you are wizards?! Not just baristas at the cafe?!” Toby questions. 

“Yup!” Y/N replies. 

“And you’ve been living for nine hundred years?!” 

“Yup!” 

Steve gives Y/N a quick up/down glance, “Well, you certainly don’t look it.”

Douxie glares at him, “Careful, she’s married.”

Steve raises his hands in defense, “I’m just saying! Wait, to you?”

“Yes!” Douxie barks at him. 

“Today’s actually our eight hundred and ninety-sixth anniversary,” Y/N informs them with a smile. 

“And you’re spending it here? Wow Doux, you suck at romance.” Toby criticizes.

Douxie scoffs, “Alright, you go celebrate eight hundred and ninety-five anniversaries and report back to me!”

Y/N lets out a giggle, “Maybe that’s enough questions for now.”

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Resol’nare - Part Two

A/N: I really wanted to have this up earlier today but this headache had other plans. Anyways, not much to say here except... meet Navina! 

*this story will regularly be using words in Mando’a. for a good list of references click here.*

Summary: Navina Harsa has been on her own for a long time, and she has done whatever she’s needed to in order to survive. From time to time that means forsaking the teachings, The Way of her people. But there is one thing that she will never do, and that is forsake her family- even if they’re gone. 

Word Count: 4.8k 

Warning: language

Yavin 4.   

Navina Harsa leaned against the window of the transport shuttle as the destination came into view. Clouds swirled in wispy white clusters, parting to reveal the marbled green and blue hues that the dense foliage and deep, clear water painted across the moon’s surface. Quiet gasps from the row behind her gave those passengers away as first time visitors to the remote jungle moon, the three young children chattering excitedly about all the things that their parents must have told them in the weeks leading up to their trip. Navina tried to put herself in their shoes, imagining what it would be like to see Yavin 4 for the first time all over again. But while the family of travelers was choosing this location for a vacation, her own reason for visiting was vastly different. And she had seen it many times. It is beautiful, though. 

As the shuttle neared the docking zone, the landscape and vegetation became more defined, and she could make out the massive ziggurat that poked up from the trees. Neither centuries of erosion, nor years of war and conflict had damaged the structures that still loomed like imposing stone giants over the land.

 “You can see them from anywhere you are on the ground,” the man behind her was telling his children. “If you think they’re big now,” she glanced back in time to catch him tapping the youngest boy on the nose with the tip of his finger. “Just wait until we get up close.” He curved his other arm around one of the older two, corralling the three of them close to the window. The children giggled excitedly, their parents exchanging warm smiles over their heads as they continued to buzz with questions and exclamations. 

Navina clamped her eyes shut and faced front, blinking them open again when she was sure she’d only see the back of the seat in front of her. She stared at the bright red material, a bittersweet ache opening in her chest. Another year. Her right hand came up to her throat, fingers digging beneath her dark gray shawl for the leather cord she wore around her neck. Sliding it between her thumb and index finger, she felt for the cool metal pendant, wrapping it in her palm. Squeezing until the pointed tusks of the carved mythosaur poked into her flesh, she closed her eyes once more, inhaling deeply through her nose. 

Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum, aliit. 

She held her breath, letting that ache deepen for a few seconds as the three faces she would never forget appeared in her memory. Her mother’s sharp, shining eyes. The strength in her father’s calm smile. The little one, sound asleep and dreaming. You never left, because I carry you with me. Exhaling slowly, she released her grip on the pendant, the ache receding like she knew it would, and she tucked it back beneath the cowl of her shawl. Nothing can truly separate us. Hand falling back to her lap, she turned to look out the window once more as the Star Commuter began its final descent towards the docking platforms. Bending down, she scooped up the strap of her shoulder bag and slung it across her body, the contents clanging together as she adjusted its weight and readied herself to disembark.  

An overhead speaker chimed before a cheerful pre-recorded voice rang out in the cabin. “Welcome to Yavin 4. Please be sure that you have all of your belongings before departing the ship. Passengers traveling with droids may claim them at the station hub once we have touched down. We thank you for choosing to fly with us, and hope that you enjoy your stay.” 

There was further information regarding booking return passage from the moon, but Navina tuned it out. She wouldn’t be leaving Yavin 4 the same way that she arrived. And if all goes according to plan I’ll never have to shuttle hop again. Standing as the craft hovered closer to the platform, she reached for the handle above her head, using it to steady herself as the shuttle jerked into a parked position. Once the floor had stopped shuddering beneath her boots, and the children in the row behind her had all dramatically tumbled from their seats, Navina let go of the handle and pulled her hood up, tucking her long woven braid into it. As the cabin doors opened and the rest of the passengers fumbled to gather their belongings, she filed quickly past them and out into the thick, humid air. 

Back again. 

She wasn’t born here, so it technically wasn’t her home. But it was the closest thing that she had to one. Her parents had been forced to leave Mandalore when she was only a few months old, settling on Concordia with the rest of the warrior clans. They lived there as a family for almost six years, but she had no real memory of it, couldn’t conjure more in her mind than what she’d been told. Even the memories of the night that they left were scarce and came to her in pieces- Purple light. Deep voices. The frenzied feeling of being followed. She remembered being tired, wanting to sleep, and finally being able to, curling up with the baby and both of them drifting off quickly. Her parents explained as best as they could why they had had to leave, why they’d chosen to do they things that they had, and that explanation evolved to include more as she grew older. Even though she understood it, none of what they told her helped her to remember a home before they one they’d made there in the jungle caves of Yavin 4. 

They’d only spent four years here, completely secluded, just the four of them, but she could recall almost every second. Training with her parents, learning how to fight among the wide, flat leaves and vibrant flowers, splashing in the shallows at the base of the waterfall with the little one as her parents watched, humming rhymes for him as he cooed and laughed. She remembered running through the tunnels that connected their cavern to the network of others, her own voice echoing off the walls as she practiced words she’d heard her parents say: morut'yc, cyar'ika, gra'tua. The language was harsh, hard to learn and harder to speak, but she remembered the pride that she felt when her pronunciation was correct, or if she used a word or phrase properly. Her mother’s pewter eyes would flash and her father would nod. 

“This is the Way, Ina’ika,” her mother would always end every lesson, whether it was on weapons or traditions, with the words that every Mandalorian had heard thousands of times.  

This is the Way. 

But was she a true Mandalorian? It was something she struggled with for years now. Her parents were gone. She had no clan, no tribe, no one to swear allegiance or loyalty or anything at all to. She’d given up on wearing her armor at all times when several dire situations had demanded that she do so, donning it only when necessary. It’s not even my armor. Shrugging, she reached across her chest to pull the strap higher up on her shoulder. Had she grown up among other clans like her parents did, she would have been given her own armor as soon as she started training. When she reached a certain age she would have had the chance to swear the Creed and pledge herself to the Way of the Mandalore, and she would have been presented with her first custom piece of beskar armor- usually a helmet, sometimes a chestplate. Instead she carried her mother’s helmet, a pair of vambraces that she relieved a black market trader of, both too big for her wrists and needing extra padding so they wouldn’t slip when she used them, and a thin chestplate and shoulder pauldrons that had been salvaged from troopers during the Clone Wars and coated in several layers of durasteel. Beskar armor was impossible to come by, a Mandalorian armorer willing to smith something for a vagabond wearing mismatched steel even more difficult to find. She’d done her best to collect what she could. But it wasn’t beskar, aside from the helmet, and it wasn’t hers. 

She’d called herself a bounty hunter and a pilot, a courtesan, a killer, a thief, a smuggler, a spice runner and a stowaway, and she’d done so without pause because at some point she had been all of those things, often a few of them at once. She hesitated, though, when it came to calling herself Mandalorian. I’ve broken almost every code there is to break. As much as she tried to keep the traditions and beliefs that her parents had instilled in her, she knew that for every action she took to walk the Way, she had taken at least one in direct opposition with it. Not to mention the things that she had planned. I doubt destroying the Darksaber counts as rallying to the cause of the Mand’alor.   

The stone path beneath her feet gave way to the springy jungle moss that covered the ground as she navigated her way through the station hub, the only place on Yavin 4 that could be considered remotely crowded, and she forced such violent thoughts from her mind. Not here. For the last eighteen years, every move she made or job she took was influenced by one of three goals: survival, avenging the deaths of her family, or gaining information on the most infamous weapon in Mandalore’s history- specifically where she could find it, and how it could be obliterated. In her mind, it was just another thing that stood in the way of her people ever striking a balance, just another reason for Mandalorians to stay hidden or for clans to clash with one another instead of standing strong together. It unified them once...but it didn’t last. Any totem of power would attract corruption, she was sure of it, and that’s what the Darksaber was.  

She’d never seen it herself, only imagining the way that the onyx blade would crackle to life, slicing through the air in swaths of glowing obsidian light. The stories that her parents had told her, the scraps of information that she was able to collect through the years were all she had to build her idea of the weapon on. But she was certain that she’d know it when she saw it, even if her imagination was off base. She exited the hub, something her father had once said about the sword tumbling to the forefront of her memory. “All the misuse… all the times it fell into the wrong hands… all that fear. There’s too much anger, too much hatred. The blade is imbued with it now. No one is strong enough to resist it anymore.” He didn’t believe that it could ever be used for good again- and certainly not if someone who’d been hardened and hollowed out by pain and loss and wrath were to lay claim on it. Someone like-

Shaking her head, Navina tried to clear her mind of the Darksaber and the emotions that it stirred in her. That’s not why I’m here. Her search for the blade, like her search for those who had betrayed her family, consumed most of her day to day thoughts and dictated almost every move she made or job she took. The leads she found determined where she travelled and how long she stayed there, chose her allies for her and taught her who her enemies were. But this trip was different. Her annual trip to Yavin 4 had nothing to do with her self-assigned mission. This is for them...and for me.   

Behind her, the family from the shuttle was heading towards the Ruins, where a small camp was set up with accommodations for vacationers. The children skipped and jumped, practically tripping over one another with excitement now that they had made it to their destination and no longer had to sit still on the shuttle. A sad but wistful smile curved up the side of her mouth as she cast one last glance at the parents and their young ones. They’ll have fun here. Turning away from them, she headed instead for the thick underbrush of the rainforest. Pushing a leaf the size of an astromech droid out of her way, she slipped between the branches and out of site.  

It was easier to push the Darksaber from her thoughts once the greenery had swallowed her, the air still and heavy with the heat, but fresh and clean and noticeably sweeter than it was closer to the hub’s docking platform. But before she could fully appreciate the comfort of being back in the only place she’d ever called home, a bright flash of light, this one amethyst, cut through her memory, blinding her. Suddenly, Navina recalled the face of the stranger that her family had encountered the night they left Concordia, his eyes calm but dark, the storm inside them contained but present. “Our enemies think that we are enemies.” His deep voice came back to her easily, more clear than it ever had before. “But perhaps more importantly, so do our allies.” The man had handed something small to her mother before passing a larger bundle to her father, and then within seconds he’d vanished.

The purple light flashed sharply in her mind once more, clearing the memory as quickly as it had assaulted her. Navina gasped, doubling over to brace her hands on her knees while she steadied her breathing again. That was… It’s never been that clear before, I… She inhaled shakily, straightening up and removing the hood from her head. Her long black braid tumbled free, smaller blue braids woven throughout it, and she pushed a silvery blue strand back behind her ear. I could never remember what he said, that man but now... She concentrated on his words, trying to etch them into her brain, desperate to find and keep any of the lost pieces of the puzzle she was trying to fit together. 

“Our enemies think that we are enemies.” Speaking the words out loud, she started walking once more, her steps sure and confident despite the twisted roots and thorny vines that poked up from the ground. Navina knew each rock and root of these parts like the back of her hand, no matter how much new growth there was between now and her last visit. Feet finding the route for her, she continued to focus on the memory. He wasn’t...that man, he wasn’t  a Mandalorian. That part seemed clear. But then… She chewed her bottom lip and shifted the strap of her bag, her armor knocking together and hitting her hip as she hopped a fallen massassi trunk. Then who was he? 

Narrowing her eyes, she dug out the pendant that she wore around her neck again, this time pulling it out from under her shawl. Since she was alone it was safe to reveal the ancient symbol without giving herself away. Opening her palm, she stared down at the shiny silver skull, the faceted gem at the heart of the piece shining through the Mythosaur’s carved eyes. Sometimes, when the light reflected off the gem that was encased within her mother’s necklace, it appeared to be a soft purple color. Here, on the forest floor where only small patches of filtered greenish sunlight made it through the canopy, the gem seemed colorless. She sighed, dropping the pendant and letting it bounce against her chest. Who was he, and why am I remembering this now? 

Immediately, the same hopeful flicker in her heart that had woken her from a dream a few nights prior came back, stronger this time.  Maybe it means I’ll see them again… My father and-

“Well look what the loth-cat dragged in.”  

A voice from her left broke her from her wishful thinking. Grabbing for the blaster that was hidden beneath her shawl, she whipped it from the holster strapped to her upper thigh. In one swift spin she pointed her weapon in the direction of the speaker before the familiarity in his tone registered. Wait, it’s-

“Woah, woah, woah there, Nav, take it easy, it’s just-” 

“Firo!” She lowered her weapon, sliding it back into its holster as she sighed heavily. “Are you kriffing crazy? I could have shot you!” 

“So,” Her friend’s green-gold eyes brightened, a smirk pulling his mouth crookedly up the side of one bearded cheek as he ignored her half-sincere outrage. “You didn’t know I was standing here?” He leaned casually against the nearest tree, arms crossed over his chest and one knee bent to rest his boot sole against the bark behind him. 

“That wasn’t smart, Firo.” Navina rolled her eyes and made her way closer as the man fought to hold back his laughter, his long sandy brown hair falling in his face.  

Shaking the strands away from his forehead, he blinked rapidly, each exaggerated bat of his lashes seeming to pump more sarcasm into his words. “You mean I,” he gestured to himself with his thumbs, hands clad in maroon leather fingerless flight gloves, “got the drop on you?” He extended both pointer fingers in her direction then, that same stubborn piece of hair flopping between his eyes again. 

Technically, yes, but I was… distracted. She clicked her tongue and stepped over a boulder, half buried and covered in spongy green moss and bright orange mushrooms. “You need a haircut, Firo, you look like an overgrown bantha.”

“Deflecting, Harsa?” He pushed off from the tree with one foot and shoved his sleeves up his forearms. “Sounds to me like you’re deflecting.”  He’s not gonna let this go. The bandolier that he insisted on wearing, even though it was too loose for his thin frame, fell down his shoulder and he reached across himself to fix it. “It sounds to me, like you don’t want to admit that I-” 

“Oh dank farrik, fine. Yes. Yes, you got the drop on me.” Navina played into his gloating like she knew he wanted her to, lacing her own words with playful sarcasm. “So look out, Bounty Hunters of the Outer Rim, because Firostian Ottabok is going to claim all the highest paying pucks for himself.” 

His grin finally grew too large for his face, and it burst into an open mouthed laugh. “Damn, Nav, it’s good to see you.” Throwing his arms around her, he pulled her into a tight hug and she smiled against his chest. Despite his lanky limbs and bony elbows, Firo’s hold on her was strong and secure. Navina returned it with equal force, sliding her arms under his to wrap them around his body.   

“It’s good to see you too, scoundrel.” She pulled away and shoved that same piece of hair away from Firo’s face with two fingers. “But what are you doing out here? We always meet at the caves.” Her eyebrows came together in concern as she scanned his face for any of his tells. He’s not looking away or scratching his nose, so…  “You didn’t run into any trouble, did you?”  

“Me? In trouble? He blew out a puff of air and waved one hand, fingers spread wide. “Why are you always so quick to assume I’m in trouble?” Navina arched one eyebrow and stared up at him. Do you really want me to- “You know what?” He slung one arm around her shoulder and urged her to start walking again. “Don’t answer that.” She laughed, falling into step with him as they headed toward the cavern’s opening. Yeah, that’s what I thought.    

Navina and Firo had gotten each other into and out of about as much trouble as two outlaws could over the past ten years. If she was keeping track though, she had a strong feeling that the scales would tip slightly more in his direction than hers. There had been the time she convinced a fellow bounty hunter to trade a captured Firo for the three pucks she had on her, and the time she corrected his Twi’leki translation during a deal, diffusing an already heated situation before it could become more volatile. They’d only met in the first place because his ship had crash landed on Yavin 4, and he needed to offload and hide the contraband cargo he was carrying before whoever it was that shot him down found it or him- she was never sure which outcome would have been worse because luckily, neither had happened. She had found him instead.

The network of tunnels and caves deep within the jungle that had kept her family safe for years had also proven to be the perfect place for a smuggler to stash his goods. If Navina hadn’t shown up a few days later for her annual visit, he’d have gone completely undetected, possibly for years. She may have never found him at all. But that’s not how it went. Navina smiled to herself every time she recalled that day. Attacking on instinct, it had taken almost no time at all for her to see that this intruder was no trained fighter. She had him disarmed and pinned with his then hairless cheek pressed to the cool stone wall as she clasped his wrist behind his back in one hand, his blaster in the other. A severely muffled “Um… I can explain everything,” had been the first words he’d ever said to her, and they had set the tone for a friendship that she wouldn’t trade for all the credits that ever passed through Imperial hands. 

“Alright then,” she tilted her chin up to peer at her taller companion. “If you’re not being followed and there’s no trouble to worry about?” She paused, giving him one last chance to come clean. Laughing, he just shook his head. “Why didn’t you stick to the plan? I come to you, that’s how it’s always been.” 

“Yeah,” another burst of laughter pushed past his lips. “Ever since the first time, right?” He reached up with the arm that was still around her shoulders, tugging at her braid. That earned him a quick smack in the gut from the back of her hand, only causing more rumbling chuckles to erupt.

“And you were lucky it was me that found you, bantha brain, and not whoever it was that you ticked off.” Just like I was lucky that Firo found me when… Absently, the hand she’d just hit him with fell to her waist, where beneath her clothing a long jagged scar crossed her body. Before a chill could settle in her bones, Firo’s warm grin poked dimples into his cheeks and  he swiveled his head down to look at her. Why does he look so kriffing happy? She was only slightly suspicious of her friend’s behavior though, his elevated mood and obvious excitement almost contagious. 

The gold flecks that shot through his green eyes shone as his cheeks rose up into them with his smile. “This time I...have something for you.” 

They were nearly there. Navina could see the brighter shafts of light coming through the trees and bushes as they thinned out closer to the cave mouth. “You have something for me?” She scrunched her face up questioningly. “What does that- why couldn’t you just...give it to me when I got there? What’s-”

“Because,” they climbed over a fallen tree in unison, the bottoms of their boots crunching on small gravelly rocks. “You need to see it, and it’s too dark down there.” 

Finally reaching the entrance to their hideaway- to my...my home- Firo stepped away from her and dug something out of the back pocket of his brown pants. Navina slung the bag off her shoulder, setting it down at her feet in a clatter of metal. She watched closely as he brought the leather wrapped object between the two of them. What does he have? 

“I found this two...no, three nights ago. When I first landed.” Squinting, she followed his fingers as they slipped under the flap of leather to uncover her gift. “Don’t know how I found it or why or…” He shook his head, the excitement still in his expression. “But as soon as I got down into the cave, soon as I was ready to settle in for the night? Something caught my eye and-” 

Navina gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as he revealed his surprise. “Firo… is that?” Eyes widening, she let her hand fall away from her lips to reach out for the small blade that he held in his hands. Asking questions was some kind of default setting that her mind had scrambled to out of pure shock. She knew without a shadow of a doubt what she was looking at. That’s a beskar kal… The short dagger’s hexagon-shaped blade glinted dark silver in the light as Firo handed it to her. Her heart thudded heavily against her ribs as her left hand closed around the grip, the fingertips of her right hand tracing the rectangular cut out that ran the length of the small but lethal blade. But these markings… Looking closer, she sucked in another breath. “Firo...this was,” tearing her eyes from the dagger was difficult, but she did so to look up at him. “This belonged to my father.” 

The shriek-hawk symbol that was engraved near the handle alone wouldn’t have identified this particular kal as her father’s. It was the addition of her mother’s clan’s signet, along with the tiny carved lettering that she could actually remember her father etching into the Mandalorian steel. Ina’ika.

“This will be yours one day, it’s only right that your name is added.”  His rich voice echoed in her memory, punctuated by the scratching and clanging of his tools, the little sparks flying from the beskar mesmerizing her. 

“Firo, I,” her eyes fell back to the dagger in her hands. “I never thought I’d see this again.” Twenty-three years. She hadn’t seen her father in Twenty-three years, and while she knew her mother was gone, she had never known for sure what had happened to her father. To my father or… But another thought sliced through, bringing with it a rush of hope that she knew was dangerous but couldn’t stop from flooding her anyway. “Firo, do you think that means… Do you think he was here? Recently?” The two of them had been back to Yavin countless times, and neither of them had ever found the blade. So why now? How? 

“Hey, Nav, I...I dunno about… if your dad was- when the last time he was here was or…”Firo lowered his eyes so that he’d intercept hers. “I know that it belongs with you. And I knew you’d be happy to have it back. That’s all I-” 

She didn’t let him finish though, launching herself at him in another forceful hug and being careful not to carve him up with her father’s dagger. “I know. I know you don’t know if he…” she sighed. I may have lost my family but… She pulled away then, brushing a tear away before she let it fully form. “Thank you, Firo.” 

He smiled, the muscles in his face far more familiar with that formation than any other. “You’re welcome, Nav.” Not letting the moment become more emotional than he knew she’d be comfortable with, he picked up her bag and shouldered it. “Now, come on. We’ve got some...things to discuss.” 

The mischief was back in his voice as Navina secured the kal in the inside pocket of her shawl. “Oh do we? What kind of things, trouble?” 

“Well,” he began as they ducked to enter the cavern. “You said you needed a ship, right?” Navina confirmed, eyeing him with a sideways glance. “Well. Word is that the scraps of Imperial garbage that were stationed on Nevarro left in a big hurry.” Navina grinned, already liking where this was going. “Such a hurry,” Firo continued with a wink, “that they left some of their...equipment behind.”

“What a shame,” she answered. “All those ships just...sitting there with no one to fly them.” 

“We really should do something about it, shouldn’t we?” 

We should. 

Not only would she and Firo both love to steal from the Empire, it would solve her transportation problem, and possibly get her closer to the information she’d been chasing. Whatever had caused the Empire to leave Nevarro in such a rush… Navina was sure that it had something to do with other Mandalorians. 

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Thank you for reading! Please feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the tags! :) 

tags: @something-tofightfor​​ @alraedesigns​​ @pheedraws​​ @valkblue​​ @malionnes​​ @gollyderek​

[iam93percentstardust]

And the last one from me, I promise: I'm really craving some WinterIron 'identity porn' where Iron Man is a villain (not really, but the media and SHIELD say so) and Bucky feels really bad for liking this guy who's his enemy. Plus this Tony Stark fella is kind of cute too... Thank you for your writing! ♡

Thank you! I hope you like this as it also fills one of my squares for @starkbucksbingo

Title: Secret Side in Plain Sight Collaborator Name: iam93percentstardust Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24806083/ Square Filled: B1 - First Date Ship/Main Pairing: Winteriron Rating: T Major Tags & Triggers: Identity Porn, Villain Iron Man, First Dates Word Count: 1811 Summary: In an attempt to get over his crush on Iron Man, the Avengers' nemesis, Bucky asks out the cute baker who lives down the street. For his part, Tony would be delighted that Bucky's finally asked him out - if only someone hadn't stolen his suit.

Just because Bucky knew that asking Iron Man out was a bad idea didn’t mean that he was willing to admit it. 

Look, Sam had good points sometimes but Bucky categorically refused to admit it. They had had this animosity since they met two years ago and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. So yeah, Bucky knew that he couldn’t just ask Iron Man out but because it was Sam who pointed it out as a bad idea, he couldn’t just admit it. 

Besides, it wasn’t like Iron Man was really a villain, no matter what SHIELD and the media tried to paint him as. No one who was actually a villain stopped their “evil and nefarious plans,” as Iron Man put it, to save a little girl from a burning building. And yeah, okay, maybe it was Iron Man’s fault that the building was on fire in the first place but Bucky had been there when the building had caught flames. He’d heard the shock in Iron Man’s voice as he realized the fire department hadn’t been able to put out the fire in the warehouse next door and it had spread to the surrounding buildings, the horror when Sam had said he wouldn’t be able to get to the girl in time.

No villain—a true villain anyway—reacted like that. They would have left the girl to die.

But Bucky still knew it was a bad idea to ask him out, even if he was flirty and didn’t mind his metal arm. He could picture that cocky smile in his mind’s eye, imagine those pretty, dark curls, those whiskey brown eyes…Okay, so maybe he was imagining his other crush as the mysterious Iron Man but really who could blame him? They were both wicked smart and snarky and maybe just the tiniest bit arrogant but both Tony and Iron Man had good reason to be arrogant. Tony was the best baker on the East Coast and Iron Man had yet to be stopped by anyone. He didn’t think they could be blamed for being cocky about it.

Point was, he knew that he couldn’t just ask out Iron Man but he could do something about his crush on Tony (and no, he was not pining, no matter what Sam and Steve said). So he was there, standing in front of Sweet Treats at the end of the day, waiting for the evening rush to clear out so he could go inside and ask Tony out and hopefully not make a fool of himself in the process—though if he did, well, that was why he waited until just before closing.

“Bucky Bear!” Tony said delightedly as soon as he entered. “Come here, I’ve got this great new flavor of cupcake that I want you to try. The bakery-that-shall-not-be-named down the street tried something similar a few weeks ago and everyone’s been going to them for cupcakes now which is obviously ridiculous but it means I have to step up my game which, not like it’s hard—hello, have you met me? Anyway, it’s—”

“Baby doll, you’re babbling,” Bucky said with an amused smile. Christ, he liked this man.

“Oh yeah. Anyway, here.” Tony shoved half a cupcake into Bucky’s mouth before he could say anything else or even take it from him. Bucky almost choked on it before he remembered how to chew and swallow.

“Amazing, Tony, as always,” he said truthfully, licking the last little bit of crumbs from his lips. “Kind of spicy. What’s in them?”

Tony seemed frozen, staring at his mouth with a dazed expression on his face. “What?”

Bucky chuckled. That’s promising, at least. “The cupcakes. What’s in them?”

“Oh! Mangoes and jalapeños. I’m thinking about trying out a lime buttercream frosting on them, something like a margarita, you know?”

“And what’s Cake—”

“Ahem!” Tony said loudly, glaring at him.

“Sorry. What’s the bakery-that-shall-not-be-named doing?”

“Just jalapeño. They’ve got some sort of cinnamon frosting and spicy candy on top but I think mine is better.”

“It is,” Bucky assured him.

“You haven’t even tried theirs!” But Tony looked positively ecstatic to hear about Bucky’s loyalty so he knew he was doing something right at least.

“Don’t have to. Yours is always better.” He cleared his throat, scuffing his foot on the clean floor. “So, listen, I was thinking—”

“Could you flip the sign on the door for me?”

“What? Oh, sure.” He headed over to the door, flipped the open sign to closed. He probably could have asked then but he thought that asking Tony out should be a face-to-face conversation. “Tony, we’ve been—”

A timer went off in the small kitchen in the back. “Oh fuck,” Tony whispered. “The macarons.” He darted for the back, Bucky trailing after him, probably looking like a lost duckling. He was allowed in the back. Tony had given him permission after the sixth time he’d shown up at closing time, just to talk to the cute baker, and hadn’t wanted to end the conversation so Tony could rescue a batch of cupcakes from the oven. For as talented as Tony was, he had to throw out half the things he baked because he got distracted easily and forgot to take care of them before they were ruined.

Fortunately, the macarons were not one of the ruined batches—this time—and as Tony was setting them into individual containers to sit overnight, Bucky started to ask again, “Hey, I was wondering if you wanted—”

“Can you hand me that—"

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Bucky hissed. “Will you go out with me or not?”

Tony blinked up at him. “Try that again?”

“You, me, dinner? Maybe not tonight but tomorrow?”

Tony blinked again, slow enough that Bucky wondered if he was maybe about to get turned down, but then a delighted smile spread across Tony’s face. “I’d love to,” he breathed.

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, double checking. He almost wanted to tell Tony that he’d already said yes, there were no take backs, but they were decidedly not children, no matter how they acted sometimes.

He nodded eagerly. “Yeah. Tomorrow, you said? Do you have a place in mind? Cause if you don’t, I know this great little Italian restaurant. It’s near my place and if you want, afterwards—”

“Whoa, doll,” Bucky said, laughing as he laid a finger on Tony’s lips. “Wanna take my time with you. Wanna do this right.”

The look in Tony’s eyes could best be described as pouting but he kissed the tip of Bucky’s finger, giggling when Bucky groaned. “I can do slow,” he promised. “So. What did you have in mind?”

“You like burgers?”

~

He had no idea how he managed to pick out Tony’s favorite food. They had talked before, about Tony’s Italian mother and how that instilled a love of pasta in him, about Bucky growing up in the Depression and how he thought he hated chicken but really he just hated under-seasoned, overcooked meat. He counted himself lucky that Fury hadn’t seen a point in hiding the fact that Bucky Barnes was back after spending most of the last century as the world’s greatest assassin because it meant that he could share things like his past with Tony without being worried that he would inadvertently reveal something he wasn’t supposed to. And, in return, Tony told him about growing up wealthy, as one of the Starks, and about how he’d walked away from his parents’ company after they died, leaving it to become Stane Industries.

“You must really hate Iron Man, then,” Bucky had commented idly, not really fishing for information on his other crush but still curious. Iron Man almost exclusively went after Stane technology and warehouses.

To his surprise, Tony had given him a guarded look. “Why would you say that?” he’d asked warily.

“Cause that was your parents’ company he’s attacking even if it’s not anymore.”

“Maybe I think it’s good. Maybe I think I left SI because I didn’t want to make weapons anymore but I couldn’t talk the board into changing the direction of the company,” Tony had muttered, apparently forgetting that Bucky could hear everything he was saying. Well, it wasn’t like Tony could be Iron Man so it didn’t matter whether or not he liked what Stane was doing to the company. Whatever Tony’s thoughts were on Iron Man, it wasn’t important and had no effect on their date and Bucky really needed to stop thinking about Iron Man anyway. He had a date with someone cute and Iron Man was unattainable and just barely on the right side of being a villain anyway.

~

It was a little hard not thinking about Iron Man when he seemed determined to make sure that he was on Bucky’s mind at all times.

He and Tony had barely sat down at their table when his Avengers Card beeped, telling him about an upcoming mission. He groaned and fished out the card, scanning the details of the mission. Iron Man, of course. The villain had been particularly active over the last couple weeks but this one was new; Iron Man wasn’t attacking one of SI’s warehouses this time. He was attacking a children’s hospital.

“What the fuck?” Bucky muttered.

“Your other job?” Tony asked, smirking.

Bucky glared at him but there was no heat behind it. “It’s not like I’m a secret agent, baby doll. Ain’t no need to call it my other job. I’m the Winter Soldier and I’m an Avenger and we both know it.”

“But it’s just so fun,” he teased. “But, really, did something come up?”

“Yeah,” Bucky muttered. “Fucking Iron Man, ruining the first date I’ve had since the 40s.”

Tony frowned. “I’m sorry, did you say Iron Man?”

“Yeah. Look, I’m sorry, doll. Gotta go take care of this. Can we try again tomorrow? I was really looking forward to our date.” He leaned forward before he could think better of it and brushed his lips over Tony’s cheek.

Tony had a distracted look in his eyes but he blushed anyway. “Tomorrow sounds great. Good luck out there.”

Bucky was halfway to the door when Tony called after him, “And Bucky Bear? Be careful!”

Bucky grinned and saluted him. Tony cared about him. Tony didn’t want him to be hurt. He hardly even cared that Iron Man was acting outside of his usual modus operandi because Tony cared about him. They were gonna have another date tomorrow and everything was gonna be fine.

~

Tony waited until Bucky was gone before fishing his phone out of his pocket. He dialed Rhodey, impatiently drumming his fingers on the arc reactor under his shirt as he waited for him to pick up.

“Tones?” Rhodey said sleepily. “This better be important, do you have any—”

“Rhodey, who the fuck stole my suit?”

[livlepretre]

Hey so this is something I meant to ask a while ago, but I totally forgot about it until like five minutes ago. A few chapters ago, Klaus told Elena he hadn’t slept with anyone in years. Is this a head canon you have about Klaus? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought I remembered you saying you thought he would have been sexually reckless in his very early vampire years. If you do think he’s been celibate more recently, is this because he was kind of a paranoid reclusive for a while there? I feel like what I’m asking has different responses based on which universe we are speaking about—whether that be canon, FE canon, or SWBS canon. Cuz like I could see you needing to add that in there so there’s no possibility Klaus has gotten other women pregnant recently in the SWBS narrative. Long story short, I guess I just want to know if there was a reason for this specific line and how you head canon Klaus’s sex life has been over the course of a thousand years.

oh my God YESSSS I love this ask haha

I think that Klaus lost his virginity to Tatia Petrova, and she was the only woman he ever slept with as a human. (She was also sleeping with Elijah, but I do think she was in love with both of them but Elijah was the one who offered that shot at getting married/having a better life, and Tatia was enough of a realist to try-- unsuccessfully-- to break it off with Klaus, but that’s a whole other headcanon.) 

Her death fucked him up pretty much permanently. I think his whole “love is a vampire’s greatest weakness” thing is a result of this tragedy-- this was him turning his heart to stone after having it utterly broken. And of course... also turning his heart to stone in the wake of not even knowing how Tatia felt about him in the end-- was she using him? Stringing him along? Did she really love him back? He’ll never know, because his parents murdered her in the most gruesome and terrifying way possible. 

This doesn’t mean he doesn’t indulge his appetites though. He and his siblings quickly descend into lusts of every sort-- their bloodlust and their sexual appetites intermingle, get confused-- Klaus dabbles with women, playing games with consent and seduction using compulsion, egged on by Kol, and even Elijah, and egging them on in turn. His lovers are often his victims, especially in those early days, when he had less control over his appetites and left a lot more bodies in his wake. It wouldn’t be very long before the list included men as well as women, and those early years would have been almost like a kind of frenzy-- a savagery fueled by the madness of the curse, the fact that their lives had been ripped apart by their parents whom they should have been able to trust, by the dark maw of his grief. 

I think he and Rebekah would have become lovers sometime around 10, 20 years into being vampires-- the subtext of the show supports their incest-- they’re just too weird together!-- and I headcanon that he would have been the one to take her virginity. It would have to be far enough into their curse that by then all of the social mores prohibiting various cruelties and abominations like sibling incest would have been stripped from them-- they were already delighting in murder, torture, rape, etc by then for some time, slaves to their own damnations-- but soon enough after the turn that Rebekah wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone/had the opportunity to have a lover. I could see this being something that would spur Klaus’s possessiveness-- and he’s very possessive of Rebekah. I don’t even see it as romantic in any way-- I think sex for Klaus is largely a mechanism of control and dominance, and he exerts it over Rebekah, his favorite sibling, his pet, the very most. Any hint that she’s going to stray from him, or give her heart, loyalties, and affection elsewhere, and he uses his sexual hold on her to keep her there, and kills the lover for good measure. (Why just Rebekah? Because I don’t actually think the incest extends elsewhere... except maaaybbeee Kol/Rebekah... well, because 1) she’s the only girl and Klaus is definitely misogynistic enough to view this as a weakness or something he can control 2) she’s younger, and her personality is easier to control than Kol, who is a wild child and bucks authority on top of being as suspicious and paranoid as Klaus, or Elijah, who is Klaus’s equal and whose wrath Klaus is always always wary of.) 

So, for a very long time, I think that Klaus sleeps around in a casually vicious way, with Rebekah as his only long-term, on again-off again lover (although, there are probably some mistresses here and there, and probably some witches too, who might last a bit longer, or who might make it out alive), until we get to Katerina. 

Katerina. The woman with Tatia’s face. A duplicate, body and soul. She’s the greatest danger Klaus has faced since his turning, because she’s the one girl his heart might be vulnerable to. So he shores himself up even more. Strengthens that wall of stone around his heart, and keeps himself cold to her. He can’t resist taking her as his lover, of course, or keeping her as his mistress while he gathers the resources necessary to sacrifice her. But all the while, even while he has her in his bed every night, even as he’s plotting her murder, he’s seething with fury and jealousy. He’s envious of Elijah, who falls in love with her, plain and simple; envious of Trevor, even, for the same reason... because she is the one woman he wants, but he’s also too selfish to ever contemplate doing anything other than murdering her for the sake of obtaining his power, so she is also the one woman he cannot have. And he cannot ever allow himself to love her, because he will definitely kill her. And he’s furious when Elijah comes up with a plan to save her, because Klaus is also afraid of Katerina. Afraid of that possibility that if he falls in love, it will be a weakness, just like his love for Tatia was a grave weakness. The thing that was his undoing oh so long ago. 

Of course, Katerina runs, and Klaus feels this proves him absolutely right about her. 

A few more centuries pass. I think with time we see his bloodlust slaked, and more and more of his bedmates survive the encounters. He grows bored, and restless. There’s no more hope for ever breaking the curse, and so his life feels very static. He has nothing to look forward to specifically. He takes lovers here and there, and he falls in and out of Rebekah’s bed, but nothing touches that stone heart of his. 

This changes pretty significantly in the 20s. By then he’s suffered a harrowing blow. The family is broken apart, and it’s just him and Rebekah-- really just him and Rebekah, indefinitely-- for the first time he can ever recall. 

This is when Stefan joins the picture... Stefan, whom Rebekah adores, but who can be something different than every other lover Rebekah has had-- he can be that missing brother for Klaus-- who is looking for someone to fill the void now that Elijah (and Kol, and Marcel, but honestly not Finn because he’s been daggered for eight centuries) is gone. And because Klaus’s ideas about sex and power and sibling love are all screwed up, and because Stefan is charming and handsome and fun, Rebekah and Stefan’s affair quickly becomes Rebekah and Stefan and Klaus’s affair-- the three of them all tangled up together. And it’s precarious but Rebekah will take whatever she can have and Klaus is greedy for emotional fulfillment and Stefan is high all the time and having a great time having great sex so he doesn’t take any of it as seriously as he definitely should. 

Then of course there is the separation. 

I think during this long time period Klaus probably continues his pattern of casual sexual flings, but I doubt he really gets close to anyone. In fact, other than Rebekah or Katerina, I have the feeling that Stefan is the only other person he was sexually involved with that he really cared about. That’s why he wanted him back in 2010 when he ran into him again and the timing seemed right. 

I guess this now gets into the present-- my feeling isn’t so much that Klaus has been celibate as a matter of choice or paranoia or anything (although, he is paranoid, which is why he hasn’t fallen in love again in a thousand years), just that he is simply so old that years might pass between flings and he doesn’t really notice. It doesn’t seem like that long for him necessarily-- years can feel like weeks at this point-- and he’s grown pickier as he’s gotten older-- someone has to interest him for him to pursue, and it takes more and more to interest him now than it did before. 

Like, the show does suggest to me that Klaus may have been sleeping with Greta Martin, and that would fall directly in line with his MO-- we’ve seen him sleep with witches before, and we know that power does interest him. He’s not exactly upset by her death though, even though he seemed to like her-- also in line with how he refuses to become emotionally invested in his lovers. 

I do think though that he was sleeping with Stefan in that summer they spent together-- again, Stefan is an exception to the rule, although he’s not in love with Stefan-- Stefan slides into that weird Klaus category of “brother,” which is a gray area muddled in with lover for him-- essentially the same place that Rebekah occupies, but without the same levels of (faint) protection that actually being Klaus’s blood sibling provides. It’s fascinating to me that Klaus would reinitiate the affair with Stefan without returning Stefan’s memories-- it implies that he wanted Stefan’s devotion pure and simple, like making him fall into his orbit again to see if it will happen again, but it also implies a selfishness and greed for Stefan’s devotion, because he wants it focused on himself and not at all to share with Rebekah. 

I’m sure there was a wild week or two where they all resumed their relationship when Rebekah was reawakened before Klaus discovered Stefan had been lying all summer about Elena. 

My last thought on all of this is to do with Klaus and Elena. I’ve pondered and pondered and pondered why Klaus would choose to kill Jenna when Elena had already promised to go along with him willingly, obviously for the sake of her loved ones, and I had to think he was angry with her and taking it out on her that he had to kill her at all-- because there was a part of Klaus that wanted her for himself, and he couldn’t have her because, once again, he’s way too selfish to ever consider doing anything other than securing his own power. 

I suppose this takes us up to the present.

I put that line in SWBS but left it intentionally easy to misconstrue-- Klaus says he hasn’t had a woman in years, which makes it clear that there’s been no one  he could have gotten pregnant, but there’s been some subtext with Stefan’s responses to Elena sleeping with Klaus that imply that he has that history with Klaus himself-- I think the only fic I have where I wrote it without assuming that Stefan and Klaus were sleeping together that summer was After the Fire, But Before the Flood, but that was only because I wrote most of it before season 3 aired/before that season 3 promo ignited the Klaus x Stefan alarm bells in my brain. So anyway, in SWBS, Klaus and Stefan have that recent sexual history, and Klaus was probably sleeping with Rebekah a bit before Mystic Falls too, but does Klaus even see her as a woman? Doubtful, honestly. There’s something else going on there. 

I’m pretty fluid though in terms of what I think Klaus’s recent sexual history is-- sometimes like in Just A Glimpse, he’s been sleeping with Greta, sometimes the affair with Rebekah and Stefan is full steam ahead like in Fairytale Ending, and sometimes it all fizzles on him like in SWBS. 

I do still think it’s hilarious and amazing that the only time Klaus canonically sleeps with someone in TVD it’s because Hayley negs him into oblivion with her (entirely fair and accurate) assessment of his artwork. 

[your-turn-to-role]

hi okay i hate sending asks to people without knowing them but you seem kind so im trying: during the break, i’ve been working my way through VM, and i’m at episode 75. my question, because i’ve read some of your more recent meta, is “what’s Percy’s deal?” i know he’s loved by the fandom, but i can’t find myself relating to him, and i find his assertions that he’s the only one with a plan offputting. is there more context you can give to me about percy’s character that explains his motivations?

aww, thank you!

(and yeah, asks like this are totally fine, i totally get that anxiety, good job on sending this!)

i mean, first off, you don't have to like a character everyone else does? if you don't relate to percy you can just, not relate to percy, that's fine

(and to be fair, as much as i love him as a character, i would not want him as a friend, because he's a very flawed person that has a lot to work on, but in fiction those traits are interesting to watch rather than difficult to deal with)

but, percy's deal! the short answer is people generally like him because taliesin's funny and charismatic and he does morally grey right, which is rare and a fun thing to explore (also in his relationships with other people, the entire vex-vax-percy-keyleth square is full of neat parallels and opposites and interesting things and i have whole essays in my head on all six combos there)

i don’t know which posts you’ve read so i’ll link this one here too, just to cover a couple more of the generally unnoticed aspects of his character, and things i like about percy

he’s also far from perfect, as you’ve noted, he does tend to believe he’s the smartest person in any given room, because he’s young and clever and used to being that, which you’re allowed to find off putting, but i will say i find he does that less than a lot of characters of his general archetype? he listens to pike, he listens to keyleth, he listens to vex, he respects when they have more knowledge than him on a particular subject, he’s not above asking for help. and generally most of the arguments he has with keyleth on that subject aren’t him asserting he knows more than her, but more a matter of principles and values (they’re a really interesting pair that way, they have similar backgrounds, both children of royalty running away from the crown, but they’re such opposites. percy is a natural leader who would rather anyone rule than him, keyleth fumbles her way through all of it but sticks to it because she doesn’t want to let anyone down, percy is a pragmatist, keyleth is an idealist, they both are too focused on the big picture but in two completely different ways, i could write a whole other post on this, but to get to my point, they wouldn’t be such good balances for each other if percy didn’t absolutely respect where keyleth is coming from)

for the long answer, i’m gonna break this down into parts and try to get to the core of percy's character and why he is the way he is

(under the cut bc this gets long)

1 - heavy trauma

like... this is the really really big one. percy, at age 17 or 18, had his entire life up to that point completely destroyed. his family was killed, his friends were killed, people he trusted like family (professor anders, who was a more present figure in percy's life than his actual parents) betrayed him and helped the briarwoods, he was imprisoned in his own castle's dungeons and tortured for information, they threw his siblings' bodies in there with him to make a point, cassandra helped him escape but as far as he knew she died helping him. he has two years of his life after that he straight up doesn't remember, his hair turned white from the stress of it. 

trying to go after ripley the first time didn't work, he was captured and left to starve in a prison cell, for the first few months of travelling with vox machina he genuinely believed it wasn't real, because realistically no one was gonna come save him, this was just a hallucination of his dying mind. returning to whitestone he was forced to confront the fact that literally everyone he ever knew growing up (with the sole exception of archibald) was either dead or working with the briarwoods, and even after retaking the city there's a lot that can never be repaired. 

and he's just... never really dealt with any of this? like, he gave vox machina the technical details of what happened to him in the briarwood arc, because they needed to know that information, but the first time he actually started processing his trauma, the first time he admits it out loud to anyone, is the final episode of campaign one. before then it had been occasional snide or handwavey comments, and like, he'll let himself feel the anger over it (in the beginning of the story he encouraged it, because then he didn't have to feel anything else), but he's never processed the grief, never admitted to himself how badly that affected him

which means he's got a lot of pent up emotions in there that he just keeps burying, and sometimes they come out in unhealthy ways. having so much taken from him also makes him really motivated to keep the things he does have - he’s got some deep set abandonment issues and takes any kind of betrayal really badly, don’t know if you’ve got up to the scanlan stuff by the time i post this, but that’s something to keep in mind as to why he acts the way he does there. (and it’s not more explicit because percy was raised nobility, keeping a brave face through anything is part of who he is, he tends to cover emotions he’s insecure about in snark or indifference or, for the intense ones, anger, because those are the things he thinks he’s allowed to show, but the real emotions show up occasionally, when they’re particularly strong, or if you’re reading between the lines. he really does care a lot about vox machina)

2 - legacy and loyalty. 

speaking of nobility, it's hard to do a character study on percy without mentioning whitestone and the house of de rolo. this is the number one thing to percy. he was raised to respect title and name, and most importantly, raised to respect the people he represents - both the townsfolk of whitestone and also percy's ancestors and future de rolo generations. whitestone is more important than any one life, he has a duty to protect and serve it, and that comes before any personal wants he may have. it's also important to him for family reasons - he was a pretty lonely child, but he loved reading about the history of the city, all the weird ghost stories whitestone had even before the briarwoods. it probably made him feel more connected to all of that, this is the place he belongs. and after his family dies, it becomes even more important, because this is his connection to them. the soul of a city lives as long as its people, by protecting what's left, he keeps a little bit of what came before

(and also in just tidbits to understand percy's character, he sees all cities and man-made things the same way - in a world where some races live for centuries or millennia, their history exists mostly by word of mouth, you can physically talk to people who were around 500 years ago and get their take on things - humans don't have that, they get 100 years at most, so the things they build are vital to their heritage. this is how you keep people alive long after they're gone, by honouring what they created. and especially for someone so concerned with legacy and history, percy literally says abandoning westruun would be blasphemy, because the place people grew up is important, yes it's better that they live, but letting the city be abandoned and destroyed would be an irreparable act of violence.) 

this is the number one thing on percy's mind when evaluating anything about himself, where do i come from, and what do i leave behind? which is a question that has a lot of moments to be tested, because of my next point...

3 - pragmatism and terrible thoughts

when it comes down to it, percy is a very ends justify the means kind of person. he finds it very easy to square away any kind of collateral damage as long as it gets him to his end goal. see: trial of the take, where he's fine to catch his friends in the blast radius of a new bomb design because he's so excited that it worked, preparing to fight vorugal and resigning himself to potentially having to kill innocent people to kill the dragon (he wasn’t okay with that, but he would do it), also his conscious decision to let ripley go, knowing she would lead to the deaths of thousands because it was her or the briarwoods and he wanted revenge 

(this is by his own admission his lowest point and worst mistake, because as mentioned, he thinks about the consequences of his actions near constantly, he knew she would reproduce his guns and they would lead to a whole new form of warfare. but in that moment he was just blinded by grief and way too emotionally burnt out and did not have the capacity to care. and he spends the rest of the campaign and honestly probably the rest of his life trying to make up for that one)

he's also, by his own admission, someone who has a lot of bad thoughts he doesn't act on, he's very clever and creative and ideas for ways to use those skills for violence or vengeance come easily to him (like, percy as an actual villain would be ripley but worse, ripley's intelligent but a very direct point a to point b kind of thinker, percy has multiple times criticised her lack of imagination, a percy with her lack of morals would be terrifying)

(honestly this is why i was seeing percy so much in taliesin's narrative telephone, because "sometimes i wake up having dreamed of a terrible thing, and normally i just file that away for things that i would never do, because i wanna maintain friendships, but then LIAM did something to me." and the whole being absolutely fine with throwing the rest of the cast under the bus just to enact revenge on liam was quintessential percy)

but we’ve seen the pragmatic anti hero everywhere, anyone can be a terrible person, and have reasons for it, that alone doesn’t make an interesting character (at least not for me)

what does, is my last point

4 - trying to be good

i still vividly remember when i first watched campaign one, being really surprised at how much percy asked for help? like, i went in expecting the usual full on demon possession storyline, i expected percy to hide how bad it was, i expected him to make poor decisions without realising he was doing it until he was in too deep to back out

and like, he had some of that. but at the first sign of things being out of his control, he asked his friends for help. he let pike greater restoration him. he told vax to kill him if things ever got too out of hand. he was really, genuinely scared about what he got himself into and what he might do because of it. there was never a point where he pretended, even to himself, that making a deal with orthax was okay. the minute he realised there was a demon involved, he was working to stop it. and yeah, by the time he realised it was already a bit too late, there were already some things out of his control (and also taliesin kept having the worst rolls against the whitestone corruption which was really fun on a meta level), which is how things got as bad as they did. but honestly, all things considered, there’s very little to criticise about the way percy handled himself in the briarwood arc. 

and he keeps doing that, trying to get better. he struggles with it, he struggles a lot, against his anger issues, against all the trauma, against the fact that he really doesn’t want to be here and things would be so much easier if he were dead. but he recognises he holds grudges too easily, so he starts actively trying to forgive those who’ve wronged him (this is something he and vex have in common, and something they were working on together before they were together, which probably helped a lot in getting them to that point as well). he recognises he makes poor decisions when he’s angry, so he starts learning to step back in those moments and leave the decisions to someone else. he has never not owned up to his mistakes, he takes responsibility for everything he’s done, and if he notices a problem he can’t solve himself, he asks for help.

and i find that fun to explore. like, percy’s been likened to hamlet in the actual show, and i was the kid who got super obsessed with hamlet when i was like 15 because i was in that same mental space of suicidal self hatred and existential melancholy but also thinking i was the smartest person in any given room and being too young to have gotten over the arrogance that makes you ignore everyone else’s needs for the sake of indulging your own problems. and then i got older and realised there are smarter ways to go about things, like having empathy and appreciating the light in the world and not being a dickhead to people because it makes you feel better, and maybe hamlet can be justified and in the wrong at the same time. and while there’s some stuff i won’t spoil for you, percy after ripley kills him is definitely starting to learn that, which you rarely see in the hamlet archetype, bc everyone’s like “ah yes so Deep so Important who cares what bad things this person did they had Trauma and are Clever”

well, percy cares about the bad things he did, and cares about not doing those anymore. so like, he’s still a disaster of a person bc he’s like 23 and no one has their life together at 23, especially not someone in percy’s situation, and honestly i find that fun to watch as well bc i like watching characters make stupid mistakes and do stuff i’d never approve of in real life, and as i mentioned at the start, taliesin makes captivating and funny characters. but yeah, that’s generally where percy’s at, most of the time

[seventhfracture]

q. 3, 16-19, 26, 28, 32, 34-36, 38, 40, 44, 51, 53, 58, 66, 73, 85, 96, 97, 100 please? (feel free to not answer, I'm aware these are way too many questions but consider! I had to choose from 100 when I just wanted to ask `em all- again no pressure to answer all of these)

TUMBLR FUCKED UP THE NUMBERS FORGIVE ME

1. Do you really think there is somebody for everybody? That presumes everyone wants someone. Which I don’t think is true. If you do want someone… well there at what? 9 billion people? Statistically your odds of finding someone are pretty good. But if you want something you can’t just want it. You have to take steps to make it happen. And that might mean compromise or action.

2. Do theoretical ethical debates have any value? Is it important people discuss ethical dilemmas, e.g. the trolley problem? I think a lot of pressing social issues started as a “theoretical ethical debate” in one circle or another. “Should we free the slaves?” was definitely a thought experiment before it was a reality. If we go real obtuse like “What if reality is a simulation, does that change anything?” etc. Shit we can’t really know. Then I still think there’s interesting stuff to pull. And philosophy has contributed a lot to different parts of society. Thinking is good.

3. Did you have imaginary friends? Do you still have them? Lol I think lots of people keep their imaginary friends in some way or another. “God” or “my roleplay blog” or “my online persona” or “my sexually dominating side” or “my OCs in my WIP” etc. etc. Whatever you call them I think its kind of natural?

4. Are you religious? Do you think your religion is ‘correct’? I was raised a polytheist. I’m a form of Pagan in practice. I believe there are lots of gods. I don’t really bother with asking if another religion is “real” or not. If someone believes something, then that’s fine. But I think you should be prepared to argue your point. People use religious belief to justify stances all the time. So you should be prepared to argue why your religion is good or right if you’re going to use “well my faith says…” as your justification.

5. If you aren’t religious, do you wish you were? Why? Religion is interesting, I could talk about it for ages, but I’m glad I’m not more religious. I think if I couldn’t take science into account when asking certain “should we/shouldn’t we?” questions that’d suck.

6. What’s the most life-changing choice you’ve made so far? Probably to transition. I transitioned after high school. Which in some ways was a blessing but I got doctors, I changed all my documentation, I picked a new name, I had to come out to all my family, my work… It made me very happy but it was huge.

7. Would you want to live forever? How about for a billion years, a million, a millennium, a century? I believe in reincarnation but I think it’s natural to be scared of death. Frankly if I could avoid the gamble I’d rather live. Even if I’m just a brain in a jar. If I can be here that’s better than being nothing.

8. Was your childhood happy? Uhhhhh….?? Um…. Well—Uh—Next question.

9. What are you missing from your life? A way to make money doing things I’m passionate about. I’m still figuring that out.

10. Have you ever met someone who had a very similar personality to your own? Did you get along? I knew someone who was very like me when I was a very different person. They were trash, I was trash, and I’m glad that 1) I changed and 2) we don’t speak anymore. I was a fucking psycho.

11. Is your life what you expected it would be five years ago? Totally different in some ways. Exactly as planned in others. I’m happy, so who cares? I made the best decisions I could with what I had at the time.

12. What makes a person ‘good’? Are you a ‘good person’? “Good” people do good things. Even if they think awful things. “I fed the poor, but I only did it to fatten my ego!” The poor don’t fucking care. They got fed. Likewise a person who has good thoughts but doesn’t act on them (aka “well I think gay folk aren’t hurting anyone, but God/my church say they’re against the bible so I guess—”) are bad people.

13. How often do you lie? Is all lying inherently bad? Are you generally truthful? I lie a lot. I think you should. I think we should stop demonizing lying. Most people don’t care about your details. They just need the gist to get the job done. And if it doesn’t involve someone, they don’t deserve to know anything. It would be truthful to tell your landlord you got a promotion, but they’re not entitled to that information. You should be as honest as you feel comfortable being. Even if that’s not very honest at all. And, yes, there are consequences. You have to deal with those.

14. What question could you ask to find out the most about a person? One question? Oh man that’s hard… probably “who do you love most?” Because do they answer themselves? Their partner? Their parents? There’s info in all the options.

15. Which beliefs do you have that is most likely to be wrong? “Eat the Rich, literally” will not actually solve anything. But I think cannibalistic revolution has been overlooked too long as a viable option.

16. Are we eventually going to ‘run out’ of new combinations for music, art, language, etc.? Is there a limit to human creativity? Never. I mean you could argue we already have. Isn’t everything just an old story repackaged? Or an old song dressed up? I think the ‘when’ and ‘where’ something is released is as powerful as ‘what’ it is.

17. How do you feel about the idea ‘an eye for an eye’?| My dear friend has a policy “do no harm, take no shit.” And I abide by that. I think you should care about people, I think all life is improved when we improve the rights/conditions of others, but if you start shit I’m going to end it.

18. Would you fight for your country? Do you feel a sense of loyalty to your nation? My country? Eeeeeh my country is flawed. My rights? My way of life? My home? Yeah, sure. It’s not about the flag.

19. Do you think you would be happier if you had been born a different gender, sexuality, race, ethnicity, nationality or religion? I think I got pretty damn lucky. My life would be MUCH harder if even one of those factors was altered. Yeah, I’m trans but it could be waaaay worse.

20. Is your perception of yourself similar or the same to how others perceive you? People are usually a lot nicer about me than I am to myself. I like that. Generally, I like myself too but it’s not always easy. More than once my relationship with my body or mind has been purely antagonistic.

21. Are you overly analytical? I guess? I have too many opinions lol. Things would be simpler if I cared less.

22. What belief do you have that isn’t logically grounded, but you still firmly believe in? I’m a Pagan. And I hate the “these essential oils cure cancer!” stuff but I definitely believe you can curse someone. And I get that’s a little crazy lol.

[naerwenia]

Face of the Empire

So, here's a fic I wrote one night after getting an idea, where Eshka is recruited by Thrawn to work for COMPNOR, to be a face for alien acceptance in the Empire. This was supposed to be a longer story, but I realized I don't actually have a plan for the plot, so this is all for now. Maybe I complete this one day. For now, it's just an unfinished idea without a point, about Grand Admiral Thrawn and my OC/Star Wars rpg character Eshka Kith'lya (who's actually full Bothan rather than just half like in this fic). I tried to smooth out some weird sentences, but I am just a human. When she thought about her future, she didn’t see herself as someone who would ever work for the Empire. She was an anarchist, educated, and more importantly, alien, a half-Bothan to be exact. Not someone who would ever look to work for the Empire, yet here she was, smiling for a picture as the Commission for the Preservation of the New Order crafted the next poster to be spread around, with Eshka as the face of lies.

University of Bar’leth was not the Hutt's first choice for Eshka. He wanted her to continue her studies in Coruscant but new policies prevented that. Credits would have solved that but what good would forcing an alien into an all-human university do? All the politics working in that situation would undermine the core education she was there to get. Her major was medicine, not political science. All social skills and charm were to be learnt on the side while maneuvering in the social circles of university life. Even Eshka knew she wasn’t there to just learn, she had to gather life-long connections, knowledge, and make sure her name would be known. Even if she didn’t have to do all that, her loyalty to the Hutt meant she had to obey his every word. If she didn’t, there was no reason for him to keep her around, she just cost him credits and sometimes gave him a headache, but soon she would take her place in the high society and get to pay back the Hutt’s kindness.

It really was kindness that made him take her under his wing, if any Hutt ever happened to have such quality. He had promised her parents that the girl would get an education and everything she needed, but she’d have to pay back in the end. No amount of credits would pay back the life Eshka was given, but information and favours might, and she was sure if need be, she would be shipped to a foreign lord to secure an alliance. Eshka had her own life until she didn’t, and she was aware of it. This deal, however unbalanced, didn’t come without positives though. Her freedom had been exchanged for fancy dances, extravagant gowns, education, and a name she could drop to get herself out of trouble: Marlo, Leader of the Hutt Council. There was, however, an acknowledgement that if she used that name frivolously, she tied her own name to him even more, and being known as one of the Hutt’s women was not what she wanted. Eshka was a doctor, a half-Bothan, taken care of monetarily by Marlo. That was the lie Eshka told herself, and got most to believe.

That was the first sentence Eshka learnt to tell without it sounding like a lie. She learnt to twist words, to make up the truth she wanted. The way she told everyone what she wanted them to hear, what she wanted them to know, just choosing not to tell the whole truth, just the words that the audience needed to hear. This was the lesson Eshka had learnt from Hutts. If nothing else, she knew how to speak and find her way up the social ladder. Each and every word had such a weight to it, and Eshka hated it. No matter how good she was with the words, she didn’t know how to express her feelings, to give words true meaning. It probably had something to do with the fact she never had a chance to do so. She had friends, caretakers, people to look up to, but also a distant Hutt as the closest thing to a twisted father-figure, so she learnt to keep her distance, to give people what they needed to keep them indebted to her, to have their trust, yet not show what she truly wanted, because she didn’t know that herself.

Not a sound escaped from the lips of the debutantes, the ballroom just stood in silence after Eshka’s impromptu speech. Her voice shook, as the weight of the words shattered any mask she might have been wearing that night. This was not the place she was supposed to be in. This was not her place. She had just told a hall full of young Imperial officers and privileged university students that the only way to peace is through understanding and encouraging societies to govern themselves democratically through local governments, that the Empire may overlook the small, the helpless, less fortunate who were also looked over by the majority, the Emperor is not omnipotent and governing from this ballroom full of gold and crystals is madness, we don’t even know what happens underground at Coruscant, even one floor below, not to mention at the Outer Rim. Too much, she had said too much and at the wrong place. Soon the guards would take her away, she may have been under the protection of a Hutt but spreading rebellious propaganda was a crime. She was an alien, they would take her away, she would lose everything, and these words were her last action, not to be remembered by anyone. An act of resistance in the ivory tower, tears drowned in rain, not even a ripple to be seen in the great ocean of consequences.

“And the only way to prevent this ignorance and lack of oversight is through you, Officers. You are the hands and ears of the Empire, through you, there is peace in the Galaxy”, said a male voice next to Eshka, turning her resistance into Imperial propaganda with just a few words. Eshka knew that voice. It was made of the same weight as hers usually was, one to omit words to tell the truth they wanted in a way that furthered their ideals. Calculated, thought through, precise. They knew what they wanted and Eshka’s sudden outburst only furthered their goals in attending this god-forsaken ball. She was left deciding if she wanted to embarrass herself even more or go with this new narrative. But there was no choice to make as applause arose from the audience, cheering, as the poignant and uncomfortable truth was turned to a morale boost of the century, only assuring the Imperial cadets of their own importance. Only when her hand was taken by the man next to her did she realize that she had just stared blankly at the crowd, and quickly turned her head to see who had taken her hand, the one to lead her out of the trouble she had created for herself. A man in a white suit, red eyes smiling at her. No, she thought, wanting to cry out and run. No, she yelled in her mind as he guided her down the stairs to the dancefloor. No, she screamed yet no words could escape her dry lips. There was no air to fill her lungs so she could express the abject horror she was feeling in the arms of Grand Admiral Thrawn. His grip was tight around her waist, his skin warm against her back, his hand in her hand even hotter, his eyes burning. This is my end, she thought, making peace with herself that she would die in the hands of her enemy, being whisked away after a dance for the greatness of the Empire. Ironic.

As the music stopped, he bowed but did not let go of her hand. “My lady, you look awfully pale. May I offer you some refreshments, and maybe let you sit down?” he said, leading her to the back. He could smell my fear, Eshka said to herself in a haze. He led her to a small room with a chaise lounge, made her sit there and ordered a maid to bring drinks for “my lady”. Eshka wanted to throw up, but only closed her eyes to help herself to gather her own thoughts somewhere else. At least the Grand Admiral gave her the time to catch her breath, then water. Just then she realized, embarrassment crept to her; she, a common student, was keeping Grand Admiral waiting. As soon as the moment really hit her, Eshka had a choice to be made: mask or truth. This time, she decided to let the man talk before she wanted to make her decision, but she had a feeling the Chiss might be already scheming.

“I am terribly sorry for my outburst, Grand Admiral, I may have, no, I stepped over my line, and embarrassed everyone. You saved me as my nerves got to me, and I couldn’t get a word out. You even saved my pride, danced with me, like I hadn’t just fallen into the back of my…” Eshka rambled, but Thrawn silenced her with one look and a hand movement. Nothing got past him. He knew.

“After your insolent speech and blatant propaganda in front of the finest of the Empire…”

“You don’t believe that”.

A smirk on both of their faces.

“But you could make it true”.

That caught Eshka off-guard. What on the Galaxy did he talk about?

“You clearly have a way with words, and know how to make your speech heartfelt, even if misguided for now. So I propose an offer in exchange for me sweeping any accusation that may arise from tonight, you join the Commission for the Preservation of the New Order. You have a human face, which humans find the most appealing, but have features of an alien. The posters…” the Grand Admiral says, looking for the word.

“Propaganda” Eshka suggested, still not exactly knowing what he was going for.

“Propaganda, or information war, needs to appeal to aliens too. You are both. Human and alien, delightfully both.”

Eshka didn’t quite understand, and the word “delightfully” was used so casually she wanted to question him even more. Delightful? She took a deep breath before answering, looking at the floor.

“I’m sorry to inform you that I am not in a position to accept your offer. I am in debt to Marlo the Hutt, who has decided in his great wisdom that I must study medicine and serve him..”

Thrawn seems slightly confused, seeming not to quite catch the meaning of your words though he understood the meaning of each word, so Eshka tried to extrapolate.

“He has given me a life, I am in debt with my life”, she added, and he nodded, understanding the depth of the issue.

“In that case, I still have an upper hand. Either he lets you go to prison, have you disgraced, or lets you join. Then you have the same choice.”

“I… Have a choice?” Eshka asked, not quite believing it, but was put back down immediately.

“No”, Thrawn snapped, his eyes watching her breathing stop and demeanor withdraw back to one of a cornered animal. Interesting. Delightful.

“Then my life is in your hands, Grand Admiral Mitth'raw'nuruodo”, she said in Sy Bisti, with the final chance to plead and beg, and to get one last word in the conversation. The situation was bad, but it could be worse. He might not care at all about her and just liked to play some holochess with her mind, maybe thinking there’s others that shared her beliefs and she was a way to get to them, or he just wanted to save the face of the ball. Probably that, and some sadistic pleasure he got from making her submit. Submit.

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

“Do you wish to know your value?” Thrawn asked as he escorted Eshka to the Lambda shuttle, ready to leave Bar’leth and move back to Coruscant, this time in service of the Empire rather than a Hutt.

“If it is in credits, no”, she answered, a bit annoyed, thinking it wasn’t worth knowing she was worthless, especially to a Hutt or to her new employer. However, Thrawn just smiled to himself.

“You underestimate yourself, miss”, he said, “You are worth much more than a chip with numbers, in fact, you have proved useful already, so I must thank you on behalf of the Empire”.

She shuddered. Empire. Useful to the Empire.

“You understand loyalty, so you will learn soon enough.”

“Is this a way for you to play mind games or rid out resistance before it has been born? Because either way, I am only here to enlist my help to the Commission and pay my debt to you the best way I can. No matter what you say, I do not think I will change my mind about the Empire”, Eshka retorted back, letting the Stormtroopers carry her luggage to the back of the shuttle, and sat on an isolated seat, yet when Admiral took the seat next to her, it felt cramped. And only four troopers were with them. The flight wasn’t long, at least it wasn't supposed to be.

“So, I believe you have questions. May I inquire what you are thinking?” Thrawn asked, with a voice that sounded almost soft for him. Eshka took note of that, replaying the sound of his voice to remember it, as she hadn’t heard him talk enough to make an educated guess about his thoughts that made him say those words.

“I was hoping you would have clear instructions for me, and what is my relationship with you, if any, “ Eshka said looking down, then raising her gaze to Thrawn, who, both surprisingly and unsurprisingly, looked relaxed, yet his gaze met Eshka with piercing intensity. Shuddering, fear striked right into Eshka. Death was no longer an option. This was the gaze of a man who knew the outcome of this battle, and used this moment only to understand the advantage they had better. Lowering her gaze, she submitted, and this gesture didn’t go unnoticed by the expert tactician.

“You submit to your faith, I see.”

“I have no battle here, so I can not be defeated”, she said, slightly smiling.

“You choose your battles well.”

“Thank you, Admiral”.

A sigh from the Chiss was unexpected, yet a weirdly humanizing touch. “You may address me as ‘sir’ from now on. Unless you are in a formal setting, then Grand Admiral Thrawn. If you wish to call me by my full name, you may, but I assume you know the right situations for that.” Sentimental reasons, he keeps me close, too close, Eshka thought.

“You have been given a position in the Commission as an alien relations specialist, you will serve as the face and spokesperson in that area. Your position will include information influencing campaigns, which will have you attending balls and giving speeches. You will be an exemplary Imperial civilian to others like us, someone to look up to.

“You are just an insolent child, privileged and rich, a teenager who is trying to rebel and does not understand what troubles their parents went through to secure your position in a society that has nothing but contempt for you. So what I am giving you is an opportunity to change the system from the inside, just like your parents did, but with more support. The success of a system is not on the shoulders of the leader as much as it is on the ones who serve. The lead gives the command, but the success depends on the ones who carry out the order.” Silence filled the room between the two of them like a thick fog, clouding the true intentions of Thrawn.

“I didn’t think you would care that much about politics”

“I do not, but some changes are inevitable for the system to work better in the future. I do not care for politics, pleasing others is not in my nature, but this is something that has to be done in order for the Empire to win this war”.

“The Empire values the needs of the many over the needs of the few, how does propaganda help my kind?”

“You misunderstand. The majority is the only one who may give betterment to the minority, but if the minority rebels against the majority, there will be no acceptance, and no moving forward. At the moment, species other than humans see their options as joining the Empire, which does not care for them, or active resistance with the Rebellion. But there is a third option. Compliance. You will be the face of compliance and order. Comply to the orders and you shall be rewarded.

“With basic rights?”

“At the moment, yes. But isn’t it better to comply with one unfair order so that you may live to the next day and then receive what you deserve?

“Or your oppressor takes your compliance as a sign that the order is not unreasonable, and continues with that.

“Could be, but do you not want to see what you could do to change that sentiment?”

“I could never side with the Empire”

“But would you join me, Chiss?”

“You work for the Empire, you line your ideals with the Empire.”

“My goals line with the Empire, and my loyalty is towards the Empire. But I am a Chiss, I serve my people too. Even after they exiled me, I will see that they are safe in the Galaxy.”

“I admire your loyalty, sir” Eshka responded, with soft fondness for the Admiral at that moment, as she had to face the fact that she was not really part of any group. Not human, not Bothan, not a Hutt, definitely not part of the cartels or any organization. Any place she ever lived in was not her home planet, she never really had a home. There was no sentimentality, there was only logic governing her life, she understood that, but now, as an alien soldier who

“So, who are you?”

“I’m sorry, what?” The question caught Eshka off-guard.

“You want so many things for those around you, yet don’t talk about anything related to who you are. So tell me, who is the Eshka sitting next to me?”

Who am I? “I’m… Eshka, I’m … “ and silence filled with anticipation on behalf of Eshka, who was trying to find anything to answer with. Yes, she studied to be a doctor, but that was not on the table anymore. Saying half-human, half-Bothan sounded weird. “A girl?” she continued, looking at Thrawn, expecting him to tell her if this was the right answer.

“No no, you have to know that for yourself. Now, you may continue, or do you wish to keep me waiting until you realize yourself?” he said snidely. Embarrassment coursed through Eshka’s veins, infecting her cheeks and tongue, making her unable to respond in any other way than just saying “I’m sorry, sir”.

---------

Grand Admiral Mitth'raw'nuruodo watched the sad and small woman lie in her recliner, sleeping soundly in the vastness of space. A canvas for a different kind of art found lost in the galaxy. Emotional to the point of being a flaw, yet unaware of her self. Chaotic, yet logical and smart. Lonely, but altruistic. She needed guidance, and he needed someone to be a force for acceptance. No matter how well Thrawn did in the military and kept to himself, the world he was fighting for was not always kind to him. Order and peace were what he was fighting for, but if Eshka could soften the Imperium’s people’s attitudes towards both of them, his position might not be questioned so often and he would be able to focus on fighting the rebellion. Humans liked cute things like Porgs and doves, and Eshka seemed to fit the idea of cute, but had some visible Bothan features like nose, eyes, and ears. Otherwise her body reminded him of paintings from Togruta: colourful, sweet, vibrant.

Eshka tossed and turned, clearly distressed in her dreams now. Thrawn sat up and got on his feet, taking one step towards the sleeping lady, only to kneel next to her and putting his warm hand on her shoulder. Simple trick to calm humanoids, and it worked on Eshka. Her breathing calmed and her shoulders relaxed. A moment later Thrawn turned back to his chair. Maybe he should catch sleep too, even if his metabolism didn’t really need it. What he needed was a clear idea of what he wanted Eshka to be. The lack of self-awareness she had played into his hand, and the way she was trained by Hutts was good; always ready to please, understanding of her own lack of agency, loyalty to the contract, but it also made Thrawn angry, the way she was denied any closeness and made to grow up without a strong sense of self. No culture, no customs, nothing but humans of Coruscant and Bar’leth who ostracized her and made her build herself to fit in wherever she went. She was a blank slate, and Thrawn would build her to a perfect woman who would no longer submit to anyone but him. She was not a slave, but he wanted her to wear chains of diamonds. What a weird thought, Thrawn stopped. Maybe it was related to the conversation he had had with Marlo the Hutt. It had been the first time Thrawn had to interact with a Hutt, and he surely hoped it would be the last. Arrogant and cunning, almost catching Thrawn's intentions, yet not useful in the long run, as he got a crash course in the politics within the cartel and now knew to limit any contact with them unless absolutely necessary. It was funny how well the Hutt knew the value in Eshka, yet could keep the knowledge so out of her reach. Just telling Marlo Eshka was going to be executed for treason didn’t sway him, he even laughed straight at Thrawn’s face, telling him no one could touch her for such a small thing, and why would such a high-ranking officer come there just to inform him? No, it had to be more personal, and if Thrawn wanted the girl, he had to give more than credits, in fact, credits were useless in this matter. Frustrating, but fruitful conversation ensued. The puppet changed owners, and there were new plans on the works.

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

Eshka put her hand on the glass, watching the view in front of her, city lights dancing in her eyes. When taking the job, she thought she was going to be living somewhere underground, with low-class officers if she was lucky, but here she was, in the same building with high-ranking officers. She could see the sky, star destroyer’s lights, the roofs of smaller buildings. It was beautiful, but the loneliness grew in her. There was a whole sky to share, yet here she was, alone above everyone.

Perfect, she was perfect. A gown made of stars, extravagant to many but tasteful for Coruscant. Lights reflecting from the velvety fabric made it look like the whole galaxy was moving as she moved and danced. Eshka, however, felt weird. It wasn’t the first time someone else chose a dress for her, but she didn’t think the Grand Admiral would be the one to do so. Yet his love for control was enough to explain this, but not why she was invited to a banquet for Imperial Officers and socialites of the city. When moving, Eshka had sold her formal dresses to get some money for savings, as she wasn’t sure how much she would be compensated for her work, and she thought there was no need for formal attire, or at least hoped she could hide from the public eye as she was working in her position, but she should have known better. Thrawn wanted her to change the perception humans had of aliens and be the face of the Empire, so why would it not include actual face-to-face meetings or larger events too. She only knew Thrawn and the director of COMPNOR there, maybe some officer she had brushed by at other social gatherings, but if most were military personnel, she had no idea what she could talk with them about. Small talk, flirt? Those should be enough for this time, just feel the atmosphere and plan for the next event. Lose a battle to win the war, and so on. Even if she didn’t like what she was doing in relation to her employer, she had to admit not everyone had the same opportunities to choose sides in the Galaxy, and if she could change some views in the higher ups, she had done something right.

A deep breath, name said aloud, and Eshka stepped in a tall room with chandeliers illuminating the glass cage high above the city. Curious looks were exchanged between guests as Eshka moved inside the room, looking around for a good guest she might be able to introduce herself to. She kept a soft smile on her face, bowed her head as she maneuvered around people already deep in conversations, not letting a single one of the guests to think for a moment she was intimidated. She didn’t know anything about the military, she would say to herself, she was there only to have fun and drink the Corellian wine people spoke so highly of.

An officer with six blue and red taps, probably an admiral or a marshal, was standing by himself with a whiskey in his hand by a window looking a bit uncomfortable in such an open space with people other than military troops. A good start, Eshka thought to herself and joined the gentleman. Starting the conversation with a quip about whiskey seemed to work in Eshka’s favour, just like a light-hearted joke about not taking alcohol well opened the older man to Eshka, and she was just happy it was working. Marshal Kof’ral was surprisingly sweet, considering he was one who had dedicated his life to the military, nowadays commanding his own ground fleet. With whiskey in one hand and Eshka’s hand in the other, he took her to the bar to tell her more about the whiskeys. Few younger officers joined them, clearly new to the setting, but the Marshal knew them and invited them to join the lesson on whiskeys around the galaxy. The officers, however, weren’t too enamored by Eshka, in fact, they seemed to enjoy the jokes they could make at her expense than the whiskey, but let their hands wander down her back. Marshall just laughed with them, so Eshka did too even when it hurt a bit. This wasn’t the place to confront them, this was just to introduce herself to the high society. Thankfully, the dinner was to start soon, so Eshka got the chance to excuse herself from the situation, telling the men she needed to add some face powder before the dinner.

Just a few more hours, I can make it, she told herself, looking at the mirror in the bathroom. Maybe there’s no need to have a conversation with the one next to me, whoever they may be. A racist who hates me, they wouldn’t talk to me, or someone nice, it’s going to be just fine.

When she finally stepped back to the hall, she was escorted to the dining room and seated. Next to Grand Admiral Thrawn. Both relieved and nervous, she didn’t know how to react. There was a lady next to him on his left side and Eshka thought it might be his date. Before Thrawn could even say a word to Eshka, a council member was seated next to her, taking her attention with a flirty greeting. Bail Carivus, a politician from a long family line of legislators and senators, and him talking to Eshka with such empty praises was infuriating to Thrawn, yet Eshka didn’t seem to mind, only blushing and giggling.

“And who is this serious man you are next to?” Carivus asked, flashing a condescending smile to Thrawn, and pure hate flashed in Thrawn’s eyes before Eshka could see it.

“Oh, he is Grand Admiral Thrawn, the captain of Chimaera”, Eshka said, glee in her voice, like she was proud to introduce the two of them, the opposites of each other. Tension between them just grew with the realization they were from very different worlds.

“It is very nice to meet you, Admiral”, Carivus said, clearly disregarding military ranks, yet offered his hand to Thrawn for a shake. Thrawn took it, if only to not embarrass Eshka.

“As it is to meet you”, Thrawn replied, coldly.

Before the tension grew too much or the silence between them stayed longer than appropriate, the first course was served.

Few times during the dinner Thrawn caught Carivus’ hand laying on Eshka’s thigh, his eyes wandering down her chest, hand “accidentally” brushing her neck, ass, ears. Sleazy, infuriating, with a lack of taste in art, Thrawn thought, trying to keep his cool, but as Eshka got more and more uncomfortable, Thrawn wasn’t sure he liked this part of his plan. As the dinner came to a close, Eshka excused herself, and as soon as she was out of the room, Carivus leaned over to Thrawn with a grin, ready to ask something, but another Admiral came to talk to Thrawn before he could hear the trashy words the sleazebag was trying to say. For a moment, Thrawn forgot that the politician existed. But when the Admirals shook hands, he took notice that Eshka hadn’t returned and Carivus was not there either.

Thrawn didn’t know where Eshka might be, but he had to find her soon, before that poor excuse for a human touched her. He would not tolerate that. A new rule for Eshka to follow was now in order, as soon as she was away from Carivus’ hands; no one was allowed to touch her, no one, there was no social climbing with her body, no matter how beneficial it might be. She may fight and be defeated, but her submission was reserved for Thrawn.

[theholycovenantrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, PHOEBE! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF SALOME.

Admin Rosey: This was incredibly difficult. Both applications were stunning and shined in the limelight - but there were these small details, Phoebe, that you included that had us absolutely captivated. Salome, I think, is a difficult character to encompass so wholly while not overlooking the details. But you managed to do that, to tie her all together while not putting her in a package. The application was such a joy to read from beginning to end - the way that you tied so many different characters into her, into her future. It was an absolute thrill to read because I was able to see so much while still being tantalized by possibilities. I can’t wait to see how Salome shines on the dash! Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Phoebe

Age | 22

Personal Pronouns | She/her

Activity Level | Pretty active (6/10?) due to a national lockdown, but I’m a postgrad student so some days are busier than others.

Timezone | GMT

Triggers | REMOVED

How did you find the group?  | I check out the ‘new rpg’ tag a few times a year & your graphics and then everything drew me in

Current/Past RP Accounts | Masha Vetrova @ ProchnostRPG

IN CHARACTER

Character | SALOME

What drew you to this character? |  Typically I tend to go for characters who have a fundamental moral alignment of ‘good’ (even if it’s been a bit corrupted) so at first I was really drawn to Gabriel/Abaddon/Isolde. I even brainstormed them a bit before moving onto the demon bios.

But then I read Salome’s bio, and I really couldn’t get her out of my mind. There is something so delicious about her, so dastardly poetic. In a way, she’s as pure of heart as many morally good characters - patient, steadfast, true to herself. It’s just that her heart is a blackened one. A nature so rotted that even eternal damnation in Hell’s Abyss was not enough. The only fitting destiny was a demonic one, and the wings tore out of her body as if they’d been there, dormant, all along.

I know the story of Salome (thanks Oscar Wilde) & I just adore the way in which the bio weaves the biblical story into this world and this character. Salome the Temptress, unflinching as she demands the head of John the Baptist and damns all around her to Hell. This one line in particular from Rosey really, really captured it all for me:

No, the minute her mortal heart stopped beating and she opened her eyes to the fires of Hell, there was only laughter to be heard – pouring from her lips as melodic as a lark’s song, a stark contrast to the wailing and grinding of teeth.

Salome feels young and charming and spoiled and light and warm and content and this image - her descending into Hell, disrupting it with her peals of laughter - sums it all up. She is arrogant and uninhibited with her sins plain for all to see. But she is also clever. She is a girl who dances with the dead; demon through and through. She lets them openly see it so that they do not think to look closer. For if they did, surely they would see Salome was more damned than they’d ever envisioned? See that the open delight she projects - the laughter and fevered dancing, - all distract from a mind capable of cold, calm strategy? See that her hands are beautiful because they are stained with the first blood of this new world?

…All of which is to say that Salome the Temptress has worked that tempting magic of hers on me too - hook, line and sinker.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | If it serves your guys’ plotting vision then absolutely! I’d just ask to write the death scene/have some say in the way it went down. (The person killing her off better be prepared for the fight of their lives).

FUTURE PLOT IDEAS

• (small) PLEASURES •

Grand plans and power grabs are all very well, but day to day (on the dash lol) Salome is ruled by small pleasures and indulgences. What was the point of forging this new world if not to luxuriate in it?

01. I’m very curious to see how her relations with all the other demons play out. Salome is by and large a solitary creature - the natural result of her arrogance - but I think there are some demons she favours more than others. I could see a potential friendship (or the lesser version of that bond) with ORIAS, for one. There were those who saw something akin to witchcraft in Salome too. There had been envy, when Orias was hailed the Original Witch, but even Salome has come to recognise the ungodly power that resides in them. They are one of the only creatures that Salome has any real respect for. She understands that there is value to learn in what Orias can teach.They call them the false prophet - it seems poetic that Salome is drawn to her. (So ! Much ! Potential ! Witchy ! Power !)

02. So too can I imagine Salome having a particular curiosity towards MAMMON. Hungry and dark and empty, Mammon is probably Salome’s demonic ideal. With mortal origins herself, they represent a different kind of demon – one she thinks is utterly beautiful. Their future ambitions could align, both with a deep, aching appetites, but I can also see her purely enjoying the unique company of them. Salome does not treat her ability with any real respect or caution; she sees the dead as a game. think she’d genuinely delight in Mammon mimicking her gift and the amusements that could follow. (Ok not to say I’m suggesting deal body party games but it’s very that)

03. Salome gets equal pleasure (if not a great deal more) from less-than-friendly relations. She pushes purely because other people’s irritation amuses her. I think her relationship with AZAZEL in particular could be very, very fun. Of all the demons, I can see Salome having a particularly petty dislike / jealousy of Azazel for a few many reasons.. A) they are both products of indulgence, daughters of parents (literally and figuratively) who spoiled them rotten. Similarities repel and all that. B) Azazel is part of the de facto royal family, favoured by JUDAS.. and DAMIEN .. and ABADDON .. and Salome has not ever handled that well. She watched on as they, along with the rest of hell, fell for her and thus a time-old grudge was born. C) Azazel forms part of the Holy Land’s rulership. A land that was won because of Salome (in her mind) and one she feels has rights of ownership too. I imagine that Salome genuinely despises that the role was given to Azazel of all demons. I - I just sense so many great opportunities for both bickering and battling.

04. Salome draws great pleasure from her own magnetism. Devotion has followed her throughout the stages of her life, but it too has come to wax and wane. It is there in BASTIEN though, and it’s one of the connections I’m most excited for. He satisfies her addiction, and in return she is both doting and cruel. There is some value in him politically, bu it’i more of a .. personal connection. That could change though. Or, perhaps a genuine fondness might develop, in the same way that other celestial beings seem to be fond of their animal companions. A muted form of possessiveness over his gaze and his wonderment (which may well manifest in Salome having a particular resentment towards EVANGELINE) . If he were to share out his devotion, or if it was curtailed by any harm coming to Bastien himself, Salome would not be happy. Perhaps his attentions have come to somewhat satiate her appetite and tentatively restrains her darkest needs - a fact that neither of them have realised. (!!!!!)

• (medium) OPPORTUNITIES •

05. There are some things she keeps to herself - at least for now. There’s a lot of potential for self-paras or connections with the wider RP plot. To me, Salome has something akin to true addiction inside of her. It was there from the moment of her mortal birth, and it worsened with each hit. Essentially, I think an inescapable plot point is that Salome is a lil’ bit bloodthirsty. I think this would largely be developed through my own musings and mortals who are just ‘extras’ to this RP, but I’d love to deal with the intricacies of Salome having to cover this habit. Maybe she continues to use others as scapegoats; maybe she chooses her victims with careful attention so that they go unnoticed; maybe she does it in such a way that implies the presence of a beast or daemonium.

( In fact, the concept of the DAEMONIUM is verrrrrrrrrry intriguing. Creates who inhabit corpses and do nothing but feed their hunger? Sounds like a character I know. This is a potential plot point that relies on your guys’ vision and some collaborative world-building, but I think there is definitely exciting potential to explore these creatures through Salome. Imagine the carnage of her trying (successfully or unsuccessfully) to out-possess them.)

06. I think Salome would take any opportunity to poison Infernum’s highest-ranking. This isn’t so much be her political ‘end-goal’, but an opportunity for some real entertainment. It would be a game, try and crack the kinship that exists among  AZAZEL, JUDAS, DAMIEN and ABADDON; injecting a few words here, a few doubts there, and see if their loyalty lasts.. She knows Judas from a past life and has watched him oh so carefully overtheir many entwined centuries - I imagine she is a gnat to him, pushing all the right (and thus wrong) buttons. It would a sport to try and make his familial dynasty crumble. Perhaps she might attempt this by throwing doubt on to Abaddon in particular, whose aura contains a flatness that Salome cannot read. Salome doesn’t know of the goodness that lies in her, but perhaps she might find out. Regardless, I think Salome’s worst imaginable fate would be being locked in the Black Cells, unable to dance and revel in the world, so she harbours dislike for Abaddon anyway…

07. EPHEMERA is an opportunity that Salome had not anticipated. And let me tell you, boy do I adore this connection. It strikes me as a true clashing of teeth and spirits, but not as simple as one born from pure malice or hatred. Salome feels many things towards Ephemera, but she certainly doesn’t hate her - even if the ferocity between them implies otherwise sometimes. There’s a thin line between love and hate, as they say, though perhaps neither of those terms sum up Salome an Ephemera. It seems to be pure passion and temptation. I can’t say where this could lead without the thoughts of a possible Ephemera writer, but I’m sure it will be nothing short of explosive. I think this connection is the most Salome has ever felt towards another being, and that in itself is curious to her.

• (great) AMBITIONS •

The possible destinies of Salome. The following are all ways in which her story could play out, and all of them are quite dramatic. Who’s afraid of the big, bad plots….

08. Infernum technically has no throne. In order to thus claim it, perhaps one first has to be built? Salome would have no qualms choosing a side in another demonic cvil war. Why, if DAMIEN were to stake the claim of his birthright against JUDAS, he could count on Salome for support. If Judas were to live up to his title and betray the antichrist, he could count on Salome for support - if he got there before the other. Salome will happily help them consolidate a throne through bloodshed and betrayal. In fact, it will be her pleasure.

For through it all, Salome will be the demon who has thought to use MICHAEL. They are insufferable and righteous and (quite literally) archangel incarnate - really, if she had the chance, she knows that their blood would be the most utterly divine to spill - but they are useful. Undeniably powerful. Salome knows she must be careful here, but she enjoys the undisguised exasperation on their face. As if they have not yet thought to recognise the ambition that lies in both of them. If they helped her ascend to the throne of Infurnem, she would be a far more acquiescent to Caelum’s interests than the current leadership. Why? Because Salome would not act - would not even pretend to act - on behalf of demonic interests. If the best chance of her claiming ownership of the world depended on sharing it with Michael, then perhaps she would be willing.

09. But power can manifest in more than one way. She could follow such dreams, or she could become the world’s nightmares. And wouldn’t that be more indulgent? Where others hold power or peace as their prime ambition, Salome would get equal pleasure from the simple decay of all things. The world could rot and she would laugh - the dead are often better company than the living. Ultimately Salome would start another war without hesitation; she would sacrifice everything and everyone for the beautiful carnage of utter destruction. It had been so easy with the War of the Last Rites, but she had been disappointed when it ended in peace. That will not happen again; she will be ready next time. When all factions are suitably engaged, she will raise her own force and strike them all down together. — Such are her thoughts anyway. Thoughts that started developing when she met RYUK. To her, the power Ryuk holds is breathtaking. There is no other ability she desires quite as much. For if she were to contain both of their powers within herself, she would have dominion over a force so great that no living creature - mortal or immortal - could ever hope to defeat. The dead. It is a delicate strategy, but she has the patience for it. And if there was any who would spill the blood of a horseman just to see what happened, then it would surely be Salome.

10. Where there are mortals, there is faith. The relationship between Salome and the faith of the HUNDRED-EYED GOD intrigues me. In her mortal life, faith was an amusement. Its believers has been her playthings - perhaps they are again in this world. ISOLDE is as all prophets are; tempting. I think that Salome could potentially decide to join the faith – or give the impression to do so. Such a deceit would be fun and far from difficult - already she joins in on their rituals, her feet unable to stay away from any form of rhythmic movement, even ones more gentle than her usual tastes. A demon of relative influence, perhaps her faith would be welcomed amongst those most holy, perceived as a positive development in the faith’s recruitment. Perhaps she finds a currently unknown fellowship in the form of ESTIENNE, whose manipulation of the shadows surely speaks of some rot in his heart.

And all for one simple reason. Where there is faith, there are the faithful. Where there is the faithful, there is the potential for bloodshed so rich - so intoxicating - that she would play this long, patient game just to taste a singular drop. She has never been able to recreate the electrification of that first diabolical deed, when she claimed a saint’s head as her prize. She had danced and damned and thirsted ever since; the blood of an ALL-SEEING PRIESTESS might just quench such a need.

• (potential) DOWNFALLS •

Ah, but all of the above are just potential ideas. It is just as likely that Salome would be subject to some downfalls and some .. rude awakenings. I adore the fact that both MICHAEL and RYUK have such different perceptions of their connections. They are both far smarter than she gives credit. Michael is, ultimately, more powerful than Salome on more ways than one - they will surely outplay her as they have everyone, though she might be of some use to them too. In Ryuk, Salome has started a war she might live to regret - one she hasn’t even realised she’s fighting. She has perhaps been a little naive here, and it will be quite something when she realises.

There are other possible connections that could prove Salome’s downfall – or at least a be a hindrance. In my mind, it is GABRIEL, ZADKIEL and CAPHRIEL that she is most weary of. They each have a light to them that she does not care for, along with the arrogance present in all angels. I say in the following section that Salome has no fears; they represent the closest thing she has to possible concerns. I don’t think she yet knows any of them particularly well outside of the War, but she has thought of their powers. The latter two in particular harbour gifts that could, potentially, expose Salome, and thus she has developed a specific distaste for them. And of course, she probably finds them particularly fun to antagonise.

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation | [TW: Implied suicide in section I ]

I think a large part of my attraction to Salome is that she isn’t really driven by an external force. Partly she is driven by the deep appetite within her (which I’ve mentioned more in other parts of this application) but I also think her motivations stem from her own intrinsic nature; she is pushed by her own heart towards ambitions that are mere extensions of her character. I think there are three central aspects of her character that best explain her motivations and actions: a complete lack of fear, an overwhelming self-adoration and a deep, petulant intolerance of monotony. Together, they’ve created a woman - a demon - amply motivated to do any of the above listed plot ideas.. One who simply does as she wants for no reason other than want itself. Below I’ve given three early examples (set in BP) of these traits taking root (and rot):

I • For what use is fear to those who are damned?

It was said that Jesus’ tomb lay empty. Through the wind Salome heard whispers of women who’d gone to mourn and found nothing - only stone and airwhere a pierced and bloodied body should have lain. It seemed the proclaimed child of God had evaded corporeal death yet again; that the words of the old, tiresome preacher whose head she once cradled had proved true. Their claims and their preachings were not false as her father had accused - but really, had not Salome always known that? Was it not she who had delivered John’s salvation, cast him up to his venerated Heaven? And as it happened - as both the head and the soul of John his body - had not she felt her own moment of pure, divine bliss?

It brought clarity; there was no hesitation in her now. She stood alone, looking out upon the depths of the Galilee Sea with an unconfined grin spread wide upon her face. She had known, always known, that the boredom of this life was only temporary. The adoration she received on earth had grown dull, she sought new, greater opportunities for her talents. There had existed a deep craving inside for as long as she could remember, one that had become increasingly difficult to satiate. It told her that her destiny lay outside of Heaven, that both the prophet and her father the king had been right to look upon her with fear. For if John and Jesus had ascended upwards, could she not leap down into her own descent? The idea of it felt so simple, so natural, so potentially powerful. Neither death nor the the promise of damnation brought her anything but intrigue. She thought of the wicked and the cruel, of the infernal depths to which she was bound, and felt only satisfied.

Mortal though she was, Salome was not afraid. Why should she fear her own destiny? Why should she fear for those she left behind? Fear had no place in a heart without hope. With a simple step, she threw herself into the icy water and waited to reach the blackest depths below.

II • For what use is love to those who are satisfied?

Where there was Salome there was laughter - her own, that was - sharp, loud and melodic. When she first opened her mouth it had sliced through Hell and turned all of its eyes onto her. Rightly so, for she she had laughed as she’d evaded Abaddon’s grasp, clawing herself out of the Abyss of mortal souls and claiming a rightful place in the depths of Hell. The Morningstar, sat above all, had not yet even spoken when Salome had started to dance.

She could feel Hell’s eyes on her, and what better way to greet such attentions than with that she did best. She had reaped rich rewards for it before, and she would do so again. A fleeting glance at her naked body showed her this realm had not dulled her beauty but made magnified it, her skin aglow with the fiery light of hellfire. And so Salome danced, feverishly but deliberately, losing herself in the spirit of the moment. What could anyone do but simply bask in the splendor of her new existence? As she raised her arms above her head, a pair of wings cut through her flesh and slowly tore out of her. Iridescent, they unfurled as if they too had felt the call of her movement.

A feast of celebration had followed. Salome could only laugh in delight as she looked upon demonic faces of adoration, gazes more alike than different to those she had received on earth. Seated at the left-hand of Lucifer himself, she had slotted into the natural order of Hell as if it had been her descent that had been prophesied on earth. How many in Hell, with all its angelic origins, had the blood of a true holy man on their hands? Perhaps just herself – and, she supposed, the man sat to the right of the Prince. Judas Iscariot. The Great Betrayer. A man she had known of in her mortality, a follower who’d wrought a downfall more entertaining than any Salome had otherwise witnessed. He looked on at her with a hard glint in his eyes and she merely smiled back - for Salome understood why. Here she was, a fellow mortal in Hell with infernal wings protruding from her back where Judas had none. It all made such perfect sense; Salome was truly different. Truly transcendent. Made and marked by forces darker then most of Hell could stand. In that moment (and all moments thereafter), Salome was acutely aware of the true power that resided within her, spilling out through her beauty, allure and wretched talents. Why, she was utterly glorious.

III • For what use is peace to those who are bored?

Eternity stretched out in front of her; memories of the wouldn’t fade. Of all the differences between immortal and mortal existence, it was only the nature of time that had ever frustrated her. To Salome, the centuries had passed by in both unfathomable speed and agonising monotony, the linearity of earth dead and gone. It seemed that in the face of an infinite future, even Hell could drag. It operated in a stasis that had begun to suffocate her and, gradually, had awakened once again an appetite that had only been temporally satiated. Lucifer dictated balance and moderation where Salome saw no reason for restraint. He had given her duties like none earth had ever dared, and she didn’t care to fulfil them. She had even grown tired of her puppetry, tired of dancing amongst such frustratingly passive bodies. There was, in a place of corruption, nobody left to actually corrupt; no opportunity to taste innocent or holy blood.

Over time she came to sense the quiet seeds of unrest in Hell, and she was gladdened by them. Once again a wicked smile graced her face, once again she twirled around the pits of Hell in anticipation. There was no better cure for boredom than chaos, and once she’d caught the scent of it her hunt could not be stopped. It had proven easy to have the whispers diverted and delivered to her ears - so many were under her spell, either terrified or infatuated. So Salome came to learn of plans of razing Hell against its master, ripping through worldly divides and claiming the earth she once lived on. At last - she could have wept from delight. And most entertaining of all, Salome had snatched the dice into her her hands.

How easy it would be to join the dissenters, to war with them against the order of Hell that had shackled her. How tempting it was, to dash their plans by raising her own blade to the Morningstar and plunging the world into carnage without warning. How fun, the thought of taking all she knew to Lucifer and laughing as he rained down revenge on the demons he had been foolish enough to trust. Impatient with monotony; patient in the face of action. Salome did not yet know what she would do, and she found utter delight in the potential of it all.

PARA SAMPLE

The Holy Land was not suited to revelry. It lacked the vitalityand decadent excessthat a true celebration required. And really, wasn’t this her domain? Nobody got more unadulterated pleasure from a celebration than Salome - she doubted that even the festivities of the Stygian Moon would be of renown without her inputs. This particular affair was proving even more tiresome than she’d foreseen. Every year she stands under the Triune Moon and watches as solemn vows are sworn; every year she wonders why they could not just be done so in private, sparing them all this tedium. She had said as much to Damien before as they had departed the comforts of the Black Palace, and had received little more than a scowl in response. But she knows her point has more merit than they’d care to admit. How long before these promises of harmony are exposed as a farce? At least that year promises some true entertainment.

Salome thinks all this as she watches the stage in front of her, eyes lazily switching between the three figures who stand upon it. The Sun, the Moon, the Stars; every pair of eyes in the sweeping crowd are trained on them. Salome can feel them. Or rather, she can’t feel the usual warmth of infatuated gazes on her own skin. Here she stood amongst hoards of mortals and beings more lowly than herself, and none were paying her their usual bouts of attention. The only thing that prevented a quiet tantrum was the knowledge that she was far from alone in feeling this agitation. Her stare flickered from the stage towards the figures of both Michael and Judas, and she could not help but smile. To eyes that had repeatedly examined them over centuries, the rigidity of their bodies betrayed them. She was far from the only one who felt the absence of centrality, and that, at least, brought her some pleasure.

Still, she only has so much patience for ceremonies not directed at her.  Yet no sooner did she shift to exit the crowd than did words delivered on the stage give her pause. Azazel’s voice, suitably haughty, repeating the typical sentiments of the Holy Land. This was the ‘Age of Peace’, Salome hears her say. Only the ‘cooperation of all factions and the formation of the tridium’ had rendered them ‘triumphant against the heretics who would cast all into darkness.’ This time she cannot hold in the delicate laugh that ripples through her. If only the annual repetition of such statements made them true. If only they knew of the true origins of the War that brought this so-called peace, of where the credit should rightfully lie. Though she knows it would be foolish - more than foolish - Salome can think of nothing but how simple it would be to stand above all and confess. She’d let them savour the details of her sins and her glories. She would laugh as they wilted under the weight of her revelations.

‘I’ve never seen you look so engrossed off of the battlefield.’

Her imaginings are cut off by quiet words from behind her. She needs not turn to identify the voice of Ephemera, familiar as it has come to be. Salome had, of course, seen her across the crowd - when did her eyes start to automatically seek her out so? - but marked her presence as an occupation for later. That Ephemera sought her out first is not necessarily unexpected, but certainly thrilling. There is no other presence that can so easily bring Salome out of a petulant mood, just as there is no other who can so easily put her in one. But she has found that where there is Ephemera, there is entertainment to be had.

“You have not seen me do many things,” she replies easily, as if they had long been having this conversation, “though I do believe I’ve offered.” And she has, more than once, tried to entice her with offers of dancing and hunting and enjoying all the vices of the world they fought for. She turns her head slowly to meet the watchful gaze of her once fighting-partner, a smirk on her lips as she widens her eyes in faux-innocence. They are two alike; mortals once but mortals no more, the first of their kinds. She knows Ephemera will not rise to her bait within the presence of other Angels, which only heightens her simpering expression. Salome has no such qualms about the thoughts of her own kin; their talk excites her, their gossip only confirms how many pay her heed. She has found no simpler joy than that of walking into the Black Palace and leaving excited whispers in her wake.

“I’m sure you’ll agree that celebrating won wars is less fun than waging them’, she continues, amusement ringing clear through her voice as she returned her gage purposefully to the stage. “I asked Azazel if she might add some zeal - perhapsmake those hounds do some tricks - but she seems to have ignored my good wishes”. Salome can feel the rolling of Angelic eyes next to her without even looking. It was so easy, so predictable, and yet anything but boring. That was the real curiosity of Ephemera, so easy to reel in and yet so resistant to truly jumping off the edge. She seemed halfway caught between accepting Salome’s allure and running from it, and the resistance only increased her desire. “Though your one is the more dull, I believe. So earnest - it’s quite exhausting.”

It is clear that Ephemera is acting advisor and strategist rather than - what? Friend? Enemy? Something in between? - whichraised the question as to why she had approached her in the first place. She thinks to ask, but when she opens her mouth to do so the crowd erupts in an applause more loud than she thinks the show was worthy of. Still, she brings her own hands together for the sheer relief that it is finally over. Her feet ache from standing bored for so long, her wings want to stretch open and wide. She wonders if a large enough quantity of alcohol might loosen Ephemera a little, but when she turns to declare this she finds that her companion has disappeared in the movement of so many people. A pity, but no real matter. She has never needed the company of others to create her own sport.

EXTRAS

[ My (WIP) pinterest for Salome can be found here. ]

Salome keeps no animal companion, for she has never felt much love for the nature of the earth. She finds it amusing that some Angels and Demons belittle themselves by keeping one. However, it is not an uncommon sight to see Salome walking with crows flying above her. Only on closer inspection would one realise those animals are but corpses, a puppetry Salome (alone) finds humorous.

Like all parts of herself, she harbours great love for her wings, and not only for the damnation that they represent. They are formed of what resembles a netting of fine, golden spider’s web. They seem to constantly change in the light, appearing to be more transparent than they are solid. Regal and beautiful, they are as Salome sees herself.

She is a fierce fighter and a connoisseur of bloodshed. Her weapon of choice is a trailing point blade, forged on the day of her arrival in Hell. She uses it exclusively for more.. intimate situations, and favours instead a simple longsword on the battlefield. She is however, proficient with most weaponry, as the corpses she can make fight use the same weapons they died wielding against her.

Though Infernum is the home she helped carve out, Salome spends a great deal of time in Sanctus Terra and travels to Caelum whenever the opportunity presents itself. Both locations amplify an itch deep within her soul, worsening her desire and thereby bringing greater satisfaction when she finally acts on the urge. She has not spilled any angelic blood in Caelum, though the temptation is strong, for she knows Michael has become astute to her presence. She has left a fair few victims in Sanctus Terra, a pursuit which has become less satisfying overtime. Still, Salome is careful. For all their talk of kinship, she is not sure that her fellow demons would refrain from locking her in the Black Cells if they had just cause.

[ aaaaaaand I leave you with the last verse of ‘Salome’, a poem by Mary Lamb. I honestly can’t describe it as anything over then *chef’s kiss*. I don’t know if Rosey read this when she was writing Salome’s bio, but I thought the writing style and tone and vibe and all beautifully mirrored each other?? Stunning. On that note, regardless of whether of not you think I’m right for Salome, thank you for the obvious amount of time/thought you’ve all put into this because it’s been really (really) fun to explore. ]

When painters would by art express Beauty in unloveliness, Thee, Herodias’ daughter, thee, They fittest subject take to be. They give thy form and features grace; But ever in they beauteous face They shew a steadfast cruel gaze, An eye unpitying; and amaze In all beholders deep they mark, That thou betrayest not one spark Of feeling for the ruthless deed, That did thy praiseful dance succeed. For on the head they make you look, As if a sullen joy you took, A cruel triumph, wicked pride, That for your sport a saint had died.

[keeperofhounds]

Lost & Found (Chapter One)

I got a new story that I’ve worked on for a little while. I don’t own Tangled this is a fan work not for profit.

Special thanks to my beta reader @rachelbethhines and special thanks to Varian 66 on Discord for their part in developing this story.

We all know how the original story started. We all know how it ended too. Let’s see an alternate take if Eugene were to have been adopted rather than being alone for most of his life.

Flynn Rider felt stones settle in his stomach as he jumped the castle roof. This was wrong so very wrong. Never mind the fact the people he was working with literally threatened him. If it weren’t for that then he wouldn’t even be here. Working to steal a crown of a missing princess whose parents were obviously still grieving.

He looked over at the view provided by the high royal tower seeing the green hills and dense forests he wondered if he could see home if he went a little higher. Flynn Rider may be a no-good thief but even he had some standards when it came to thieving. It also didn’t hurt he had a healthy amount of loyalty to the kingdom instilled in him. Corona was the only kingdom in all the seven kingdoms where he wasn’t wanted for his exploits. It was also the one place he always went back to.

One of his “partners” shoved his shoulder to grab Flynn’s attention, “Hey Rider don’t forget why you're here.”

The thief tried not to glare or show any of his contempt to the pair of brothers watching him, “Come on when am I ever going to get a view like this in another place in Corona.”

The brothers didn’t seem to believe him but left him alone as they got ready for the heist of this kingdoms century. As Flynn watched them pull out the supplies he couldn’t help but admit he was a bit impressed with the Stabbingtons. They were a bit on the stupid side and were more often than not plain goons for better thieves such as himself. The pair were the classic losers who usually got caught whenever a heist got hairy but like roaches, they seemed to always find a way.

Patchy and Sideburns were not ones to mess with when it came to serious crime though. Although while Flynn doubted that they would be able to follow through with their threats he wasn’t willing to risk it either. A lot can go wrong and it was better if he just dealt with them before they had the chance to follow through. Flynn Rider already had plenty of ideas to get rid of them.

“Guys I want a castle,” Flynn said, watching the view.

Sideburns sneered, “Get this job done and it might just happen.”

Patchy grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and securely tied him to the rope. Looking at the floor Flynn saw the sheer amount of guards in the area. Although with how open the space between them and the crown was snatching the crown was going to be a piece of cake. As the Sabbingtons slowly lowered Flynn towards the crown he kept still in an x-formation to keep from swinging too much. He didn’t want to get caught besides his reservations he had a reputation to uphold.

As he was lowered he slowly reached one hand towards the crown while the other held the satchel. None of the royal guards noticed him yet. That’s when he froze at the sound of one of them sneezing. Perfect.

“Oh, hay fever.”

The guard sniffed, not realizing the current situation, “Yeah.”

Flynn had already been rushing out of the skylight, ignoring the cries of stop and wait from the guards. The group of thieves were quick when making their escape running and jumping off the castle roofs. By the time the guards were forming search parties the thieves were already over the bridge and out of the capital. With Flynn making endless commentary at the expense of the guards.

“Can you guys imagine me in a castle? Because I certainly can!” the man cried, holding his satchel up in victory. “Gentlemen this is a very big day!”

The brothers ignored him keeping focus on escaping with their prize. As they headed deeper and deeper into the woods Flynn started to worry, what if they did escape? The worst-case scenario was that the Stabbingtons take the crown and Flynn becomes wanted in Corona. He didn’t want to think about the implications of such a change. It was a good thing everyone thought of him as nothing but a daring pretty boy. It was time to turn up the pretty boy act.

Flynn started gasping for air, placing a hand on a tree to lean against, “Wow, you guys are really in shape.”

Sideburns stared at him annoyed, “Keep running Rider.”

The man was about too when his eyes caught the sight of their wanted poster. This time he didn’t even try to pretend, “Oh, come on your wanted poster is perfect, but nobody can get my nose right. Seriously?”

Horses blared at the distance catching their attention. The royal guard were getting closer and they weren’t far off. In fact, the guards had caught a glimpse of the pair from the nearby cliff.

Running as fast as they could jumping stones and slapping stray tree branches the group ran and ran until they were forced to stop. It was a dead end. Individually, there was no way anyone of them could scale the height on their own without being given a boost. There wouldn’t be enough time and all of them would only get caught. It was just the thought Flynn had after placing his hand on the dead end and turning to the brothers.

“Alright, okay give me a boost and I’ll pull you up.” Flynn bargained, it was a lie of course, why would he even help the guys who threatened him?

The Stabbingtons shared a look clearly not believing Flynn’s words. Smart choice.

Sideburns held his hand out, “Give us the satchel first.”

Flynn gasped in fake shock and surprise, “I just, I can’t believe that after all, we’ve been through together that you don’t trust me?”

They only gave him dead looks and silence as they rightly so suspected what his plans were. They have been with him long enough to know how Flynn played the game and they weren’t stupid either. The current partnership they had was doomed to fail from the start, it was based on blackmail and threats. No honor among thieves.

“Owe,” Flynn said, mirroring their dead-eyed look but handing the satchel over to prevent an argument, the sooner he got over the obstacle the sooner he could ditch them.

With teamwork that could happen between brothers, the Stabbingtons made a makeshift ladder with their bodies. Patchy held the feet of his brother while Sideburns was on his shoulders pushing Flynn over the cliff with great difficulty. Flynn, on the other hand, climbed both brothers carelessly even using Sideburn's face as a stepping stool towards the top.

Flynn looked down at the duo from his perch innocently, it looks like neither had noticed they were missing something very important.

“Now help us up pretty boy,” Sideburns ordered, holding his hand out expectantly. Waiting for a hand that wouldn’t be grabbing back.

Flynn took great pleasure in his next actions, “Sorry,” He said, showing off the satchel he snagged while they were distracted, “my hands are full.” Before dashing off deeper into the forest.

The shout that echoed would be embedded in Flynn Rider’s memories for years to come. Now all he had to do was outrun the other people chasing him, easy right?

https://keeperofhounds.tumblr.com/post/612699387516289024/lost-found-chapter-two