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al9ayf · 11 months

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ᥫ᭡ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐫 | trafalgar law x f!reader

✧ chapter 1 :: winged shadow

｡˚ summary: dragon queen reader decides to ally with trafalgar law and monkey d. luffy after the defeat of doflamingo, but you find yourself falling in love with the captain of the heart pirates.

(reader is "loosely" based off khaleesi from got)

law might be a little ooc just a litttleeeeeee

｡˚ word count: 3.4k

throughout all of the summer, the skies were blue—clear, blue skies. always shining, always hot. but today it was grey. so grey that the grass appeared to have no color. nothing had any color. it was all drained. even your face had been drained of all color. trees were drained of their vibrant greens, and birds of different colors all became dark and solemn. it felt empty—as if the earth was dying.

the funeral pyre burned with dragon fire as you stared into it with nothing but sadness in your eyes. you stared into nothingness, straight into that blazing fire. it crackled and spat bits of flame around. it was the only sound you paid attention to. yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to cry. you stood there with your hands intertwined, not moving one bit. this was your mourning. you were to not be disturbed until you made the first move.

after a violent battle between your husband and an enemy, he suffered an almost fatal attack to the heart. but in the final blow, he killed his attacker and later on suffered the consequences of the attacker's hit. and while he was dying you were giving birth. in the end, you lost both your husband and newborn on the same day. all forty thousand of his men stuck by you. you were their sole salvation.

finally, you turned around with tears welling in your eyes and a face that only showed mixed feelings. your trusted advisor and handmaiden, eira, walked up next to you and grabbed one of your hands. she was younger than you, a girl at the age of only eleven. she squeezed it tight which almost caused you to let loose of your tears and fall to the ground. eira noticed your slight change in demeanor and only came up closer to you to try and comfort you. as she comforted you, one of the men from the group came up to you; the commander of the warriors, lexer. you looked up at him, right into his dark eyes. he bent down in front of you on one knee, still looking right into your eyes.

“we will follow you until we no longer walk this earth,” he said in his thick accented voice. “there is no other leader we wish to follow. you belong on the throne, not your brother. you must take it. you are the true queen…”

he bowed his head, and so did every other man and woman that followed. you felt eira let go of your hand, and when you turned your head to look at her, she too was bending the knee to you. everybody was. your white gown blew in the wind (white being the traditional color for funerals in your culture), its cape flying in all different directions as you heard one of your dragons land behind you. it screeched loudly, almost as if it was agreeing with what your army said. you only managed to shut your eyes and allow tears to roll down your cheeks. they were right and you knew it. your brother, the king aenys, was “mad”. he was vile. you knew you were the only person who could take him down. so, you decided to do it. to take the throne and become the queen.

you were only fifteen.

—

four years have passed since that day. after you usurped your brother and executed him by burning him alive, your reign has been one of the best in the history of your family. you conquered even more islands and kingdoms than you could have ever imagined. you were one of the strongest people in the new world since you conquered and controlled a third of it. and your family history with the emperors of the sea only backed you up even more. you have strong allies, strong armies, strong terrains, and dragons. you were not to be fucked with. you were not to be betrayed.

you arrived in sabaody archipelago a few moments ago. they were holding an auction to sell slaves. for a while now, you wanted to stop it. they were to be freed not sold. and finally, you decided to do it. but it was the wrong timing. most, if not all, supernovas were present. they were fighting marines while the celestial dragons walked with their slaves chained behind them. you and your army hid well where nobody could see you. you turned to the commander of your queen’s guard, saxan. lexer stood beside him with his armor and helmet on. dragon wings on the helmet and the sigil of your house banner right in the middle of it. you looked at the army behind them after eyeing what they both were wearing.

“my warriors!” you yelled in your mother tongue, aegrean. “slay the masters, slay the marines, slay every man and woman who hold chains, but harm no child. strike the chains off every slave you see!”

you turned back to look at the two, giving them one last glance before walking away. you were in a remote area of the archipelago where nobody was in due to the chaos. it was perfect for hiding and planning an attack. you walked up to one of your dragons, drago. he was the one you rode ever since you were big enough to even ride a dragon. your two other dragons glaurung and morgul, his brother and sister, were already seeking your attention as they brought their noses up to you. you caressed the sides of it before getting on drago. he ran a few ways before setting off to fly. you grabbed on tight to the saddle and allowed yourself to be calmed by the strong winds.

dragons were faster than humans, so you arrived at the auction house in a matter of minutes. the screeching of your dragons caught the attention of the marines, supernovas, and other folk. when you were close enough to be able to see them right where you wanted them, you let out the word “nār” which meant fire in your mother tongue. drago fired down on them first and then along came the other two. you heard the screaming of everybody, including one of the supernovas especially. when drago flew over them to get to the auction house, you managed to get a closer look at the three. monkey d. luffy, eustass kid, and trafalgar law. the captain of the straw hats was of course the one screaming loudly and excitedly at the sight of dragons raining hellfire onto the marines. you scrunched your nose in annoyance and turned away. you disliked the supernovas.

drago flew over to the auction house and landed on top of it. you were now behind the pirate captains. drago screeched loudly and jumped down onto the ground, breaking the auction house with a whip of its tail. your army came running towards the auction house with their weapons and artillery.

“free the slaves! slay the masters! i shall burn all of this down!” you yelled in aegrean. your dragon screeched even louder as if he was ordering them as well. you looked up at the sky to see the other two dragons continuing to burn the rest of the marines. they would soon leave to burn their ships. there was going to be no means of escape for them. drago turned and looked at the three supernovas in front of him. he growled and yelled as he ran up to them. you watched their faces as drago snarled at them. kid and law seemed a bit freaked out, but luffy only screamed as stars erupted in his eyes.

“she has dragons!” he yelled. “she saved us with them! that is so cool!”

you looked down at him with a blank expression. he was annoying you because he ran around all excited yelling praises about your child. kid smacked him across the head and yelled at him for being annoying. “we didn’t need no saving, she was just getting rid of the remainders for us!”

“it didn’t seem like that!” luffy yelled back.

you turned your head to the third one. law had the faintest smirk spread across his lips as he looked from your dragon up to you. you locked eyes. golden eyes, slightly tanned skin, and dark hair. you admitted to yourself that he was handsome, but he was a pirate, nonetheless. not a warlord of the sea, not an emperor, just a supernova. he was below you. but something about him made you want to know more about him. but you resisted your urges and turned to look away from him.

“your majesty!” yelled saxan. he came up next to you which caught you off guard. you looked at him instead and allowed him to continue speaking.

“all slaves from the auction house have been freed,” he said. “no more warriors are left in there. it is empty—“

“good,” you cut him off and drago quickly turned around to burn it down. and once it was of no more, he ran past the supernovas and took off once again. you looked behind you to see the area one more time. all that was left was the fire. you looked away and continued to fly off into the horizon. there were more slaves to free. you had arrived later than you hoped, so, of course, a few were sold and were now walking with whoever. you needed to find them. you looked around to see anybody, but the streets were empty. there was nobody here. why wasn’t there anybody? you furrowed your eyebrows in distress. it was quiet too, too quiet.

then you heard it.

the sound of something whipping through the air and a bright light. drago cried out in pain as he suddenly started to fall from the sky. you groaned as you tried to keep a hold of him. and as you fell from the sky, you saw a pacifista come from the shadows. your eyes only widened in fear as it kept its hand extended to your child. drago was smart enough though, and amid his pain, he flew to a safer place and landed. you jumped off of him and ran to his side. whatever the pacifista did it didn’t harm him badly. all he needed was time to rest, and he was in too much pain to fly. your poor baby.

tears welled in your eyes as you rubbed your dragon's side, trying to comfort him and calm him down. the sound of his cries pained your ears but you had to stop yourself from crying. he needed your support.

“rest, my child,” you whispered in aegrean. “we will heal you when you can fly again.” but he only cried in pain even more.

that’s when you heard the stomping. you turned around to face the pacifista right as it stopped a few meters in front of you. your breathing became heavier and faster as it raised its hand. but drago whipped his head around and opened its mouth to breathe fire. right before he could though, a blue sphere surrounded you, the pacifista, and drago. next thing you knew the pacifista was cut in two, and it fell over dead. drago started to snarl at whoever was behind the goddamn cyborg.

law walked around it, revealing himself to you. you locked eyes again and he started walking up to you. you straightened your back and walked a couple of feet in front of your dragon. “hold it!” you yelled in the common tongue.

law stopped and stood right when you yelled. you looked him up and down, still breathing heavily from the encounter. “another step and he will turn you to ash,” you said. you turned around to calm drago down, and once he laid his head back down on the ground, you turned back to face the pirate captain.

“i must thank you for saving us,” you said. law walked right up to you and stood only a few inches away at this point. he was tall and had a good build.

“you got the marines off my ass and my crew’s,” he said. “i don’t want to be indebted to somebody, let alone you.”

you looked him up and down, then back into his eyes. “your debt is repaid then, so i don’t know why you’re still standing here.”

“your… dragon,” he pointed his sword at him. you narrowed your eyes at him. “i can help him.”

“you only want to help him so i can be indebted to you this time,” you said, stepping closer to him.

“maybe, maybe not. but a mother’s child is in pain…”

“how am i supposed to trust you?“

“you’re not.”

law moved past you and dropped his sword on the ground. he walked up to the wound with you following behind him. hesitantly, he placed both of his hands by the wound before turning his head to look at you. he saw the worry on your face.

“this won’t hurt him, right?” you asked, your voice almost breaking. law shook his head “no” and you then let him take over. you didn’t know how but assumed it was his devil fruit power, but in seconds drago’s wound started to heal. once law stepped away from him you let out a deep breath.

“thank you,” you said.

“i’m intrigued by dragons,” he said, going to grab his sword. “do not think of this as a debt to be repaid. i’ve always wanted to touch a dragon.”

you smiled, but once he turned around to look at you, you dropped it. you didn’t say anything else as you climbed back onto drago and took off. he screeched, and in return so did his siblings. you left the archipelago with the kindness of law in mind. you wouldn’t forget it.

—

two years have gone by since that ordeal. you forgot about it in all honesty, but sometimes when you are with drago your eyes go over to the small scar that was left behind by that pacifista. you think of the kindness once more and never again. until one day when your hand, eddard, came up to you to tell you that trafalgar law has docked at the port and wanted to meet with you. he was a warlord now and was more feared. what he wanted to speak about, you would never guess. you then think back to drago and wonder if his words were a lie.

you sat on your throne, patiently waiting for him. your eyes darted around the room in boredom. dragon carvings on the wall, dragon statues, large candle holders down the sides of the room, and small steps up to your throne in front of you. the skylight allowed the sun to shine through, but it never reached your feet. eira stood next to you but down the steps some, and so did eddard. a few of your soldiers and warriors were also in the room. you were very much protected.

when the doors to the throne room opened, trafalgar came walking in. by the looks of it, he seemed stronger. you wondered if his personality had changed or not. he stopped, and behind him followed a polar bear with an orange boiler suit. you almost raised an eyebrow but stopped yourself.

“you stand in the presence of queen y/n l/n. conqueror of the new world. queen of the new world. protector of the new world. the first dragon queen…” said eira

he only nodded his head and turned to look at the polar bear. he didn’t say anything. eira looked back at you with concern in her eyes. you gave her a look that she only understood, and decided to introduce him to you since he was uninterested in doing it himself. “this is trafalgar law. captain of the heart pirates. warlord of the sea. his bounty is at four-hundred forty million berries.”

“we’ve met before,” you said with a smile. “i hope the seas weren’t too rough.” you cupped your hands over your lap.

“the seas are never rough when you’re traveling by submarine,” he said. you only nodded.

“then what brings you to my kingdom?”

“an alliance.”

“alliance?” you questioned, raising a brow. “whatever for?”

“dressrosa is one of your kingdoms, is it not? doflamingo took control of it when your brother was still king. we both have a mutual hatred for the man and i think it would be best if we were to be allies in taking him down.”

eddard walked up the steps to get to you. you lingered your gaze from law and then to your hand right when he reached you. he gave his back to the pirate and pursed his lips at you. “your majesty, trafalgar has a long history with doflamingo. it would be best to let him take doflamingo down on his own. a reminder that kaidou—“

you cut him off. “i’m no fool, pirate,” you said, raising your voice. “there is more to this than what meets the eye. what is it that you truly want?”

law smirked. “i could never lie to a queen,” he said, taking a few steps toward you. your warriors moved forward though, causing him to stop. you raised your hand. “it’s alright,” you said in aegrean. they moved back and law walked up the first few steps but didn’t dare come closer to you.

“my main goal is to defeat kaidou,” he said.

you scoffed. “then you may leave this kingdom and my seas. when the time comes, i will fight doflamingo with my army and dragons. i will take back control over my kingdom by myself. but if you wish to get that out of the way for me on your own, then go ahead.”

“you cannot fight doflamingo on your own. you need my help.”

“i do not need the help of a pirate. you’re the one who needs my help,” you glared at him. “i will not betray an emperor of the sea. i don’t want any involvement in this plan.”

“kaidou is no ally of yours,” said law angrily. “an emperor of the sea, yes. but when the time comes, he will not hesitate to betray you and kill you. his only allies are pirates that would love to help him rebel against you.”

“and why do you think so?” you snapped.

“isn’t it obvious? you sit on the throne and control most of the new world. you have three dragons and two of the most powerful armies at your side. you are one of the most powerful people in the new world, and you ask why kaidou wouldn’t take the opportunity to kill you?” he asked. “once you are dead, he will only gain more power by eliminating a threat. he will take your throne.”

eddard moved away from you as you slowly got up from the throne. you were angry. you walked down to him but stayed two or three steps away from him. you wanted that leverage. you wanted to show him that there would never be a time when you would be defeated. you wanted your stance to intimidate him, but it only left you cowering under his piercing eyes.

“when the time comes, you will know when i have made a decision,” you said. he was going to speak up but you continued speaking. “because i will either burn you or burn my ally.”

you took one more step down to get at a leveled height with him. “but if you are wrong, trafalgar, you will be my enemy until you are no longer breathing.”

you eyed him and then turned around to sit back down on your throne. law looked at the window behind you, the gigantic triangular-shaped window, and saw as one of your dragons flew by. he will have you as an ally. and with one more look at you and your people, law turned around and beckoned for his crew mate to follow him out of the throne room, leaving you all alone to think about what he said.

you leaned toward where eddard was standing and called for him. he bent down next to you and leaned his ear close to your mouth. “keep an eye on him. i want updates on whatever he is doing. let me know immediately if what he says is true.”

eddard only nodded before leaving the throne room. and you continued sitting there playing with your old wedding band that now sat on your right ring finger. what would your husband have done? and what would your brother have done?

ch. 2 !

#one piece #one piece x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #trafalgar law #one piece law

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kyriat-stories · 3 months

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- Did you hear him, Noor? "Hope you continue your science career, even though you are now married" and yadda yadda. He is such a hypocrite!

The families had come together to celebrate Mezamura's wedding, and Teteriu had just finished his speech for the bride.

- I'm sure he meant well, Eira. He wants what best for his sister doesn't he? And Aurelio seems like a decent man.

- Yeah, it's nothing wrong with Aurelio, he is fine. But Teteriu just say things he doesn't live by. Pretending to be something he isn't. If he really meant what he is saying, why didn't he let me continue my studies? And this big party... giving them your old house... he is just showing off.

- The party is great though, and we all needed something to celebrate after this terrible summer.

- Oh sweet Astanna, yes! First uncle Itaja, then Telamon, and Nashuja wanting to leave Manthos for good. It sure hasn't been joyful.

- Well uncle's death wasn't that unexpected, he was getting older, and I'm just grateful Nashuja was still here when he passed. But Telamon...?! Did you learn exactly what happened?

- Not really. They just told me he was found dead outside the shelter where he lived. From what I've heard he had stopped drinking, but maybe he had a relapse? Or maybe he was robbed? Or struck by lightning? I don't know. I'm still in a bit of a shock, because deep down I did hope to see him again.

- So how is aunt Simadhne coping? Is she feeling better now?

- Well you know. Since we moved in after uncle's death she's been kind of busy with helping with the children and cooking for us all. But when Nashuja is leaving... I fear she will fall apart. We will all miss him so much. And knowing we will never see him again... It is unbearable!

- And Pamesijos? Will he go with him?

- Not if I can prevent it, Noor whispered. How can I loose them both?

- Really makes you think about the sacrifice they made, doesn't it?

- What do you mean? The war?

- I mean our parents Noor, when they let us both go. We were so young! About Khará's age actually! Can you imagine how it must have been for them?

- Well it was different. They wanted to keep us safe.

- Yes, exactly! Not so different from this situation, when you think about it.

- I've never thought about it that way, but you are right.

- But I'm not sure if I ever could have let Khará go, under any circumstances, so I totally understand your reluctance to let Pamesijos go with Nashuja.

- You will have to let her go some day anyway...

- What?

- I mean, she will move out, get married, have her own household. All of our children will. It is terrible, but true!

- Noor! Do you have to talk about such excruciating future visions? Can't we just enjoy this party and have some fun?

- ♫♫ Ναι, να ζήσουν, ευτυχισμένοι για πάντα! ♫♫

Previous (Ch 9) | Index | Character overview | Next

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kalopsiahearts · 2 months

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hi hi ! Let’s ignore how ugly my blog is. I am too paranoid that it will be deleted to spend time making it look pretty, besides I am solely focused on discord rn !!

my name is eira, I am a 23+ year old female roleplayer who resides in the central european standard time zone.

for the life of me I cannot shake away all of the brainrot I have right now for some angsty, heartbreaking , life questioning roleplays right now. I am talking about rivals to lovers, fake dating, past lovers, affairs, couples in the middle of a divorce, summer romances that have reached the end of summer, plots based off sad poems that I collect and so on.

naturally, I am open to all types of pairings, but must say that wlw or mxf pairings do tend to peak my fancy slightly more. That being said I by no means want to always play the female role because that does get boring.

So, if you are looking for another loser to engage in some heartbreaking angst with who loves sending Pinterest boards, Spotify playlists and head cannons, please, like this, and I will reach out to you!!

#discord rp #discord 1x1 #indie rp

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notquitedeadpod · 2 months

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Are are we allowed to hang the nqd posters on our walls? Or is there a plan to turn them into merch?

Cause i really want to plaster my flat with them!!!

pls do as you like with them!!

the current merch situation is difficult - I have a redbubble with a few bits on and a teepublic with a few more bits. I'm not super happy with either option. I am actually planning on overhauling the merch situation over the summer as I've not looked at it since the end of 2022, but with a New Show coming out this year I want to be in a good position!!

likely it won't involve any of the current poster designs, though; I'm intending on having more handmade/bespoke merch which will be made in limited runs, but I am not yet sure how feasible this is going to be!

--- Eira xxx

#eira speaks #if anyone has specific things they'd like me to make lmk #there's a couple of makers on etsy i'd like to query about collaborating with merch wise #idk i just dislike the way i have so little control of: pricing; quality; delivery #the demand is there atm so i will leave the current options available but i want things to be better #ykyk

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hangingslothcentral · 24 days

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how did this happen almost a year ago i swear it was just a couple of weeks ago??

also somehow it's been SO MUCH longer than that????

whaaaat?????!?!?!?!

SBR is now sitting pretty on 502k, CB on 110k, and darling baby of the bunch NQD is not looking so baby anymore at 82k!!!

Thank you so much for tuning in!!

If you want to check out the shows, you can do so here!!

Clockwork Bird: https://pod.link/1515270344

Spirit Box Radio: https://pod.link/1532924804

Not Quite Dead: https://pod.link/1651280902

At the moment over on Patreon I'm acquiring questions for an AMA!! If you support us over there you get early access to newly releasing shows, incling SBR Retrospective episodes, new episodes of NQD, and you'll also get early access to new-this-summer-2024, @remnantspod!! There's a TON of bonus content on there, including notes for many episodes of Spirit Box Radio, plus a bunch of episodes of Hanging with the Sloth, a behind-the-scenes podcast I make exclusively for patreon. If that sounds like stuff you want, you're financially in the place to do so and you also want to help make these shows happen or just send a lil thank you for having enjoyed them, you can do so here: https://www.patreon.com/hangingslothstudios

Otherwise, thank you SO SO much for listening to the stories I tell <3 it really means the world to me. You're the best!!

--- Eira xxx

#also fun fact this was the same week my original top surgery date would have been but i had to push it back #bc i could not afford to take the time off #so it was nice to have this little nice thing happen #mad that it's been so long #anyway!!#cool though!!#eira speaks #spirit box radio #not quite dead #clockwork bird #audio drama

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shalebridgecradle · 9 months

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TESFest, Day 4

TESFest, Day 4 - mortal / sanctuary - @tes-summer-fest summary: 2,082 words; PG. Home is where you hide your Elder Scroll. No content warnings. housekeeping note: based off a pipe dream I once had of rewriting the plot of Dawnguard because...well... *gestures broadly*...you know. This fic assumes Serana wouldn't want to bring an Elder Scroll back to Castle Volkihar and the waiting arms of her probably-still-prophecy-obsessed father.

Serana regards the weatherworn chest before her with open suspicion. With the tip of her index finger she lifts the lid. Hinges creak. Wood shifts. She doesn’t even examine the contents before letting the lid slam shut again in a whumpf of dust.

She whirls on the two adventurers behind her, arms folded across her chest, brow furrowed. “This is the most absurd idea I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s…unorthodox,” Eira - on her left - concedes. Her teeth worry over her lower lip as she thinks. “But I suppose it could work.”

“It will work.” Erik gestures to the chest as if inviting Serana to take another look. “This is the safest spot in Skyrim. I promise,” he adds, puffing faintly with pride.

“Because a stripling couldn’t understand how to work a lock growing up?” Serana scoffs, heedless of the way Erik’s smile fades. She rolls her shoulders, shifting her cargo around into her arms. “We’ll look for somewhere in Solitude. A…they do still have vaults, right?”

“Well, yes, but–”

Heavy footsteps overhead interrupt the debate. Three sets of eyes dart towards the floorboards up above. Dust falls in a steady line headed right toward the basement steps.

Erik winces. “I thought he was asleep.”

A moment later and Mralki’s broad, bare feet appear on the top few steps, followed shortly by the rest of him. He tugs at his nightshirt with one hand, the other hand holding a lantern aloft. “Try and keep your voices down. Erik, you know Sissel’s a light sleeper.” Then his gaze falls on the aging chest they’ve arrayed themselves around, and then on Serana and the oversized, ornamented scroll cradled in her arms.

Mralki considers them a long moment before he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “You found another–of course you did. What have I told you about bringing priceless artifacts under this roof?”

“It won’t be staying,” Serana answers, at the same time as Erik, looking down at his boots, mumbles something about intending to tell him in the morning.

“You want to hide an Elder Scroll in my basement, and you thought telling me could wait until morning? What else have you hid down here? Ysmir’s beard?” Mralki lifts the lantern higher as if to look.

It’s Eira who stops him, with a gentle smile that makes wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. “You’re right; we should have told you. It’s only that we need a place to stow it for a few days, safe from Serana’s family.”

“And that isn’t here,” is Serana’s grumbled retort. Mralki nods his agreement.

Eira’s hands rest on her hips. “I’m not convinced a bank vault is any better,” she murmurs, setting off a fresh round of debate between herself and Serana.

“Listen,” Erik interrupts, motioning to the chest. “If you were looking for an Elder Scroll, where would you go?”

Serana’s retort is dry and immediate: “Where I know where to find one.”

Eira’s palm bounces in the air as if weighing the question before she speaks. “I’d start with the Imperial Library, I suppose. Or the College.”

“Or an ancient ruin, lost to the ages.” Erik almost bounces on his toes as he concludes, “But would you look in an innkeeper’s basement?”

“Does the innkeeper get a say in this at all?”

Erik’s eyes dart to his father, wide and pleading. “It’d only be for a few days. And my point is that no one would think to look for it here. Would they? Serana?”

“My father suspected I took the scroll when I was…sent away. If he’s still…” She shakes her head; stops the thoughts there. “He could try to retrace my steps, looking for it.”

“That sounds like a long line of ifs, to me.” Eira’s shoulder to shoulder with Erik now, or as close as their differing heights will allow. Shoulder to elbow. “This is still better than delivering it into his hands.”

“Is it? How can I trust him?” She points a pale, slender finger in Mralki’s direction. The innkeeper draws back, eyebrow arched, despite the distance between them. “Better yet, how can I trust you?”

Erik stammers over the first words of a reply. It’s Mralki who cuts him short. “The same way I’m going to have to trust that you won’t hurt my son or Eira, whatever it is you’re mixed up in.”

Serana’s lips narrow to a thin line. She and Mralki stare at one another, arms folded in near-identical poses of defiance. Some things, it seems, translate well enough across the millennia.

“I see.” She hugs the scroll closer to her chest. Her yellow eyes narrow, a faint gleam in the swirling candlelight.

Then a sigh. She turns, fast enough to swirl her long dark cloak behind her, and lifts the lid of the chest once more. Aging armor clanks and shifts as she moves it about to settle the scroll in place. By the time she’s done, only a hint of a handle peeks out, a glimmer in the dim light.

“I’ll be back to claim it, once I’m sure my father–once it’s safe.” Hinges creak again as she eases the lid shut. The rusty padlock - temporarily set aside on a dusty barrel - follows shortly after.

“That’s a Legion-issue lock,” Mralki warns. “Any thief worth their salt will have it open in a heartbeat.”

Eira’s lips curve upwards in a wry smile. “Perhaps, but first they’d have to get past you.”

“Again, I’d ask you if I get a say in this.” Mralki sighs. “But Divines preserve us, I already know the answer.” He turns to go, his voice drifting back to them as he climbs the uneven steps. “Not a word of this to another soul, and you’d best not even think of leaving it here for more than a fortnight. Julianos knows how I’m going to keep the girls out of the basement until then.”

They tromp up the stairs one after the other, Serana leading the way. Only a few glances back to the basement, the chest lost in dust and darkness now that they’ve carried the candles up with them.

Mralki waits at the top step, arms folded. “Where is it you’re bound after this?”

Serana’s foot hesitates just as she reaches the top step. “North,” she answers, before amending, with a touch more reluctance, “home.”

Mralki’s brow furrows as if trying to imagine, for a moment, what that word means to a vampire. “Well.” He’s talking over her shoulder now, to his son’s thudding, familiar steps as he makes his way up the stairs behind her. “Erik, try and make sure you’re back here before Sundas. The last of Lemkil’s potato crop needs digging up, and the children and I can’t manage it all by ourselves.”

***

It rains the night they return to Rorikstead. Before the last dark clouds have rolled away east, Serana slips out the inn door. She comes to a stop on the inn’s bottom step, away from the dripping eave. A few belated drops of rain pattern against the hood of her cloak.

The sky clears into a delicate web of stars before the inn’s door ever opens again. She glances back just in time to see Mralki step outside.

“Ah, there you are.”

Behind him, as the inn’s door swings closed, she can just make out Eira and Erik at one of the tables. Their heads are both bent over a map of Skyrim, their voices a susurrus half lost to the wind and the crackle of the hearth.

It’s like there's no space for air between you two, Serana had told Eira during the sea crossing to Castle Volkihar. Erik remained on the shore pacing, grumbling, the only one of them who couldn't water walk.

We’re not used to working alone or in threes. That gentle smile, again, so patient and courtly it made Serana’s jaw clench.

Had there ever been a time when Serana hadn’t had to guard her own back? She doesn’t remember. If those two are what it’s like, having someone you trust at your side, she’d rather lock herself right back in Dimhollow Crypt.

A hen pecks the dirt near her boots, on a late-night hunt for worms turned up by the rain. Its beak strikes alarmingly close to one of her toes. Serana quirks a brow down at it, her expression a good match for the storm clouds receding on the horizon.

The chicken carries on regardless.

Mralki shoos it away with a firm hand and a few muttered words, back toward the henhouse. It complies with a faint bwok that sounds for all the world like a curse. “You should be back inside, nearer the fire.”

For a moment, Serana thinks he’s talking to the chicken. “Afraid I’ll catch my death?”

“Your kind doesn’t feel the cold?”

“Volkihar don’t.” And even if they did, she’s still relishing being under a night sky again. Even if the stars themselves are different from what she remembers.

Mralki takes another step down, closer to her. His breath frosts light in the air. “Well. All the same, it’s a poor host who lets an honored guest stay out in the cold and damp.”

Serana’s laugh is soft as a chime, and all the more bitter for it. “It’s a foolish host who lets the wolf in.”

“True enough, but you’re no wolf.”

She snaps her head around to stare at him, narrow-eyed. Her lips curl upwards in something half a smile, half a snarl. Just enough to bare a hint of fang. Mralki doesn’t visibly flinch–but the wooden step creaks as he shifts his weight away from her.

“Alright,” he murmurs, “you’ve made your point. And my point is that my son trusts you.”

She scoffs, turning her attention back to the constellations overhead. “Your son trusts everyone.”

Mralki demurs with a shake of his head. “Erik sees the best in everyone, but that doesn’t mean he trusts them. And Eira isn’t in the habit of bringing trouble to my door. Certain scrolls notwithstanding, mind.”

“There’s been more than one?”

Mralki nods. “Last spring. Something about an ancient city under all our feet.” He wards off her next question with a preemptive wave. “There’s only so much I care to know. They came back safe; that’s all that matters.”

Serana regards him out of the corner of her eye. “Would that things were always so simple,” she murmurs, tone half rueful.

“I’m not sure simple is the word I’d use.” He cups his hands to his mouth; blows on them to ward off the chill. “Come inside. You might not feel the cold, but you’ll feel the next storm when it comes in.”

She can smell it on the wind already. Still, she dawdles, her boot tracing a line through the muddy dirt. Mralki descends the last step to stand beside her. “You brought them back safe. You might not believe it, but you’ve earned the guest right under this roof.”

“My father told Eira the same. She was right not to believe him.”

“Not every father’s a monster, Serana, literal or otherwise.” Her eyes dart toward him again, narrow with alarm. “Eira told Erik, of course,” he explains, one hand raised. “And my son never neglects an opportunity to turn my hair gray.”

He turns to go back inside, pausing on the first step. “I won’t press the matter, and you may not believe it, but the offer stands. You’ve nothing to fear under this roof.”

She can hear his footsteps receding up the steps and across the narrow porch, though they pause at the door. Serana turns sideways, looking at the cobblestone road out of town rather than him. “You…mentioned something about potatoes, the last time we were here.”

The small snort of surprise is out before Mralki can stop it. “You were listening when I said that?” She shrugs. He watches her for a moment, considering–and then gestures across the road to a field lost in shadows. “The man across the road, he’s passed - trust me when I say it was for the best - but his last plantings won’t harvest themselves.”

Serana considers him for a moment, then the field. Her lips curve into a smile, though still pressed tight, to hide her teeth. “My mother used to keep a garden. If you need an extra set of hands, I…think I’d like to help.”

He matches her smile with one of his own, motioning her back inside.

#tesfest23 #skyrim #serana #erik the slayer #mralki #dawnguard #oc: eira temura #prompt: sanctuary #my stupid fanfics #tfw your son and his bestie bring home a millennia-old vampire so you just sigh and adopt her too

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tairona-is-taken · 4 months

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So I finally finished Merlin ...

I had seen parts of the show over the last 15 years and loved the parts I saw, but for some reason, I never sat down and made an effort to watch it from beginning to end until last summer. Anyway, I finally got to the finale a few days ago. I knew what was going to go down already because I am a person who's alive and on the internet, but man, was that still crushing to watch. T_T

I have a thousand thoughts on the show and who knows if I will ever have time to write them up, so for now I will just dash out my immediate thoughts after the finale ended (aside from "I just had my soul ripped out and will never recover"):

The intense emotional bonding between Merlin and Arthur in the last episode, as well as Colin and Bradley's incredible acting in it, just swept me away. I have since read a review that points out all the logical holes and characterization issues in Diamond of the Day 1/2--and in retrospect, I agree that the finale has a ton of issues--but still, it hit me hard in the feels and I love that they allowed Merlin and Arthur to be so unabashedly ardent about what they mean to each other.

I was prepared for Arthur's death (or about as prepared as one can be), but what I did not know was that GWAINE was going to die, too. D: I have since read that apparently he is one of the knights who frequently dies in different versions of Arthurian legend, but still ... that one got me.

Gwen was a total badass at the end! Battlefield medic! Stabbing Saxons! Unmasking Eira the traitor! Figuring out Merlin's secret all on her own! And I love that Camelot is not actually going to fall with Arthur's death, because it has been left in her capable hands.

What really gutted me more than anything, though, is that we never get a denouement where Gaius, Gwen, and Merlin reunite, take comfort in each other, and mourn Arthur and Gwaine together--and that we never even see Merlin in the throne room scene when Gwen is crowned???? What the hell, show? I've seen the theories that--especially given the very last scene in the modern age--that Merlin never returns to Camelot, but I just ... refuse to believe that. So instead, I'm going to go with this excellent theorizing in an old LJ review by ravenya03 as my head canon for what happens after that coronation scene:

Though there’s been some speculation, I’m sure that Merlin will return to Camelot and Guinevere. How could he not? I assumed he already had, and that’s how they all knew that Arthur was dead. They’ll grieve together, they’ll talk about Arthur’s final moments, she’ll tell him that she knows his secret. She’ll legalize magic, she’ll appoint Merlin as her chief advisor, she’ll give him a seat at the Round Table, and she’ll make him her liaison to the druids (essentially, she’ll do all the things that Arthur was meant to do). She’ll arrange for Hunith to come to Camelot so that she can be with her son. Together, they’ll send out envoys to other kingdoms, creating an alliance of Queen Annis, Queen Mithian, Queen Elena and (a disenchanted) Queen Vivian which heralds in the Golden Age (I’ll consider this compensation for five seasons of rampant misogyny). Mithian will visit and comfort Gwen with what Arthur once said about her: that without her, his kingdom meant nothing. With Arthur dead, the love spell on Vivian is finally broken and she hooks up with Percival. Gwen will realize that she’s pregnant and give birth to a healthy child. Gilli will return so Merlin will have a magic-buddy that isn’t deranged. Gaius will die and be replaced by Alice as the new court physician. Guinevere will track down Sefa and make her peace with her. Merlin teaches her how to use the Horn of Cathbad so that she can talk to her father, brother and husband every year.

Anyway, I have now entered my traditional period of mourning that happens when I finish a beloved piece of media. Time to drown myself in fanfiction (and possibly start watching the show over from the beginning?) in an attempt to fill the Merlin-shaped hole in my heart.

#bbc merlin #merlin #merlin review #merlin spoilers #long post #tairona talks

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grownbetty · 9 months

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ficlet: like a summer breeze; eira/izzet

HELLO

not smut, but a little meandering vibing ficlet for @dnaeri's OCs, izzet and eira.

tags: rated G for general audience, farming village AU, pre-romance, non-canon, we're literally just vibing

ficlet under the cut

When Eira first saw him, she’d just finished shopping for her weekly supplies at the village square markets and was headed back home. She’d spotted him immediately; he was standing by the fountain in the village center, children surrounding his foreignness, his newness.

His hair stood out like the waning sunset amidst the midnight hues of the villagers. Eira hadn’t stayed very long knowing that he was a spectacle to the village, and she’d always learned never to stare, but she hadn’t anticipated locking eyes with him from across the way.

His smile was bright and earnest, like the open sky, and Eira thought that just as seasons come and go, so would he.

As the days passed, her best attempts to keep to herself and mind her business were for naught, least of all when nosy neighbors spoke loudly about the newest village gossip.

She discovered—rather unsurprisingly—that he was a traveler, only passing by. His stay in the village was temporary, like a summer breeze. And that told her enough to keep her head down, focus on planting the new crops for the upcoming fall, and mind her business.

It shocked her in her place when a week later, she opened her door to find the traveler standing a few feet away, shouldering his bag, and flashing that earnest smile on his face—a little crooked, a little beautiful.

“Hello, miss. I’d heard from the folks at the markets that you were in need of some help.”

She met his gaze, and raised a daring brow, but she made no move, said no words. He seemed to cotton on to what she’d been doing because he stood a bit taller, pulling at the leather strap of his bag, and kept his eyes on her.

Finally, “I’m not in *need* of a single thing.”

He opened his mouth just slightly, enough for a fly to slip through. Then he scanned the land, looked past her house where she knew the barn stood. His smile returned—a little crooked, a lot beautiful.

“Forgive me, miss. I didn’t mean to assume. But if you could use it, I’d like to offer my help in exchange for just one meal a day and a roof over my head.”

She held them both in silence as a few tense moments passed. “I’m not much of a cook,” she said finally, not fully certain where her acquiescence came from. But she knew, logically, that any help tending to the acreage of crops would be of immense help.

“I can’t imagine you being less than capable.”

Eira let out a wry laugh as he let slip the sly talker in him, no doubt egged on by the women from the square. “You don’t know me.”

“For now.”

She pushed forward from her door and stood at the edge of her porch, forcing him to stare up at her, his eyes squinting and his hair practically glowing in the sunlight. “What’s your name?”

He stepped forward, though he kept his eyes on her, staring up, as if in reverence. “Izzet. And yours?”

“You can call me Eira.”

He nodded, his smile never once faltering. Still crooked, still beautiful. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Eira.”

It would not be until the first dip of winter that Eira would learn the best and worst of just how true those words would be.

#oc fanfiction #eira x izzet #my tag for them is actually (j)izzra #official betty writing fic tag

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curseofstrahdcoup · 4 months

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The Reason for This Insanity

My current players staged a coup against their previous DM and traded him in for me, someone who has never DMed before but has a passion for gothic shit. During this past summer, I had a few friends come to me asking if I could DM for their Curse of Strahd campaign. I knew their DM, I had actually played with them as a guest character one session, and I fully understood their reasoning. So of course I said yes. We've had two sessions so far and I think it's insane enough to make a blog dedicated to it. For some background on the PCs, they're below the cut!

My players and their characters are insane. They each have secrets but only one of them uses Tumblr and he said I can share everything about his character. If one of my lovely players is reading this..buzz off. You'll find this shit out soon, I'm sure. Gordon Cobnabbit- He's a depressed, alcoholic gnome bard with what the player calls 'shitty DID.' Their previous DM had gotten him killed in the Death House which made him absorb all of the souls inside of the house. The player's current goal is to have enough to make a guess who board and it's really funny. (if wanted, I can probably make a post about the souls trapped in this pathetic gnome jester) Eira (Kiera)- She is an undead 7-foot-tall seventeen-year-old who was dead for twenty years. Eira lost all/most of her memories from before her death, but she knows that Ratka killed her. She's a part of the Vistani, with Madame Eva as her grandmother. She also carries a fucking undead head, like a madman. Jem- A poor religious tiefling, low-key rejected by her church. Her parents abandoned her to a church of the Morninglord where she was constantly put down because she was a tiefling. She despises fighting and the idea of causing someone's death. Jem constantly is overcompensating by trying so hard to be happy and get people to join her church. The girl needs a therapist. Seneryx- Holy shit ya'll. Seneryx has a lot of issues and is the one who has the most secrets. The player also is obsessed with Curse of Strahd/ Strahd point blank so he has so many ideas about how to make the module better so of course I agreed. Seneryx was born in Barovia as an unwanted dhampir. He was dropped off at the Abbey of the Dark Order where he was raised to worship Strahd and kind of be an angsty prick. He's constantly fucking and low-key in a romantic relationship with Strahd. The party thinks the Order wants to take down Strahd and that his goal in the campaign is to kill Strahd. It's very much not.

#curse of strahd #dungeons and dragons #ravenloft #strahd von zarovich #strahdaddy #Abbey of the Dark Order #bard #vampire #dhampir

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kyriat-stories · 1 month

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- I don't know if the girl knows or not, but you will never guess who attacked him!

- Well tell me! Who?

- They told me that Olimáchos had a thing with Lykrevia Troizena, and that Lykrevia's father was very upset about it and beat him up. Badly. Some say he might not survive, but I'm sure they're exaggerating.

- Lykrevia's father did that? Aranare? Amunet's husband?

- Yes! Can you believe it?

- Holy Astanna! Who would have thought ... I'm shocked...

- The situation for Mpatíni will be even more difficult now that her brother can't protect her. Even if it's temporary. At the moment he can't even stand on his feet they say. And if he dies...

- Oh no! This is terrible news! Well that's it. I can't let this happen. The girl will move in here. As Teo's wife to be.

- Are you sure Noor? People might talk.

- Oh, I'm sure they will. People will always talk. In the past it used to be me they were talking about. And Mpatíni doesn't deserve it, she is a nice girl and didn't do nothing wrong. Eira, will you support me? Will you stand by me? And Teo and his wife?

- Of course Noor. Always. You are my sister. And I feel for the girl as well, I never understood why people were so mean to her.

- I can always count on you Eira. Thank you. And now we will have a wedding to plan, I guess! I bet you didn't see that coming when you came over for a tea and a chat!

- I sure didn't haha!

It was Teo that got to brake the news to Mpatíni, both the good news and the bad news. The circumstances may not have been ideal, but the young couple were very happy to be able to tie the knot.

Just a few months later they got married. Spring was on it's way, but it was still cold when the young couple had a simple home marriage. Mpatíni was looking very pretty (but a bit cold) in a dress Noor and Eira had remade from one of Simadhne's dresses, and with a beautiful braid made by Areth and Bansabira.

It was of course unusual to have a wedding at this time of the year, and there were not many guests outside the family. Mpatínis brother was still not well after the fight with Aranare, but was helped, or should we say carried, to the house to be able to attend.

Kyria Figaleía had politely declined at first, but changed her mind when Noor and Eira hinted that they soon would have to discuss the marriages for three young ladies: Areth, Khará and Bansabira. The presence of Kyria Figaleía was very important, especially for the bride, because no one could turn the tide of public opinion like Kyria Figaleía.

It was a smart move, and a successful one. When the summer came, nobody talked about Mpatíni anymore. Despite of (or perhaps precisely because of) the fact that her brother Olimáchos never recovered from his injuries after his unpleasant encounter with Aranare. A few weeks after his sister's wedding his condition worsened, and he past away. And fingers pointed at Aranare.

Everyone was sure that Aranare had killed him, but there was no way to prove it. Nevertheless, he had to pay a heavy price. It turned out that Lykrevia secretly had married Olimáchos and she was also with child. Now she refused to have anything to do with her father, and survived by picking fruit and olives around Manthos, as her husband had previously done. Evil tongues meant she was also becoming a bit insane, but, you know, people have always had something to say about single mothers.

Anyway, on this winter night, after Mpatíni and Teo's wedding, it was all peace and happiness. And maybe, (well we don't know this for sure, but we can speculate, right?) just maybe, the foundation for a new generation of Asijakas were laid, just this night.

[End of chapter 10]

Truly, I appreciate so much all the likes and comments on my story so far. It does mean a lot, and I am very grateful. 💕

Previous | Index | Character overview | Next (Ch 11)

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adventuresindolls · 2 years

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I finally started work on my Autumn fairy custom, though I don't have a name for her yet.

I started with a Magic Attic Club Rosa doll, which I was lucky enough to find in like new condition except for a green mark on her nose. I love her outfit, though I'm not sure what I'll do with it since it's more modern than would work for this project.

I painted her face and nails in two different shades of gold. It's not perfect and I might tidy it up later but overall I'm happy with it. Mistakes would be most obvious on her lips, which came out the best.

I also preliminarily sketched her a cheek pumpkin and arm leaves. I was going to use a pumpkin vine to hide her nose mark but now I think I might paint a black mark over it and make it a mole instead. I'm tired today but later I'll outline the pictures in gold and color them in red, yellow, and orange.

She already has an amazing autumn outfit made by @dolls-and-cats (Which I will reveal later when you can see her all put together). I ordered her some of the same elf ears that Eira has in a different shade, and I finally found her a 9-10" wig that SHOULD fit and is a nice autumnal shade. So sometime in October or November she should be done!

I have 2 more Magic Attic Club dolls that I'll retrieve from storage next month and then I can work on my spring and summer projects.

#magic attic club dolls #seasonal faeries #my dolls

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notquitedeadpod · 9 months

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Hi! I'm one of the people currently making the wiki, and we would like to ask for some clarification, if that's okay? In episode 1, Alfie says he's 27: "and not just because I was a twenty-seven-year-old man (...)", but in the same episode, his mother says he's 26: "You’re twenty-six, you should be in love (...)". It's totally understandable if it just got missed, but still, I would appreciate a clarification what his age is supposed to be at that point

Oh nooooo! The answer is he's neither 27 nor 26 at that point. Hilariously, this is a problem I'm the midst of fixing ahead of S2's release. Please just ignore all the ages given in eps 1-5. Fixed versions are coming out very soon to patch these errors, which are there because I wrote episodes 1-5 like a man posessed and then just! Released them into the wild! Very little thought to the passage of time was given; I was writing for The Vibes and only The Vibes. And then when I came back to releasing the show after the break, I fully Forgot to Fix the Problem, which, when it came to pinning down dates for S2, became a bit of a nightmare!

It's so immensely exciting you're putting together a wiki; please bear with me as I patch up these things! Fixed early episodes will be out SOON, but in the mean time have this timeline I recently cobbled together ahead of S2, which I've included after the cut for reasons of vague spoilers.

Here's a rough timeline: - August 2020 - Alfie leaves Ben and moves back in with his mum 'for a few weeks' - September 2020 - Alfie turns 28 - January 2021 - Alfie sees the first victim, the girl on the gurney, and his mum tells him to move out - April 2021 - Alfie moves into a new flat ('it had taken me the best part of five months to actually find a place' Beer and Bloodlust) - August 2021 - middle-aged woman in athletic-wear ('I didn’t see another one of the patients with torn open necks for a long time after the third one?', Beer and Bloodlust) - Linda the day after that ('The next day, I met Haley in town for coffee', Beer and Bloodlust) - September 2021 - victims six and seven - September 2021 - Alfie turns 29 - November 2021 - Cas blurs Alfie's memory ('after months of dreaming about him, I saw him again. It was mid-November', Everyone's Miracle) - June 2022 - Ben by the river ('it was the start of summer', A Cobweb on the Soul) - June 2022 - Alfie and Cas talk about their ages and Alfie says 'I’ll be thirty in September, if you were wondering' ('A week. I had known him for a week.', What Are We?) - September 2022 - Alfie turns 30 - October 2022 - Alfie sees another victim ('I didn’t actually see another victim myself until summer was well and truly over,', What Are We?) - November 2022 - Alfie and Cas go to the vampire house ('We were a few days past Halloween', In for a Penny) - December 2022 - death of the guy from paediatrics ('A week or two into this new high alert we were living under,' Tear Me to Shreds) - Early July 2023 - Cas and Alfie find Moira in the river ('It was the middle of summer, still kind of warm', A Different Kind of Holy) - Late July 2023 - Alfie and Cas go to Whitby - Early August 2023 - Alfie nearly dies - September 2023 - Cas leaves. Alfie starts recording what's been happening to him.

Chalk any wibbly-wobbly-ness in the timeline to Alfie's brain being addled by vampire blood for now, and I'll see if I can patch the accidental wrong-aging in the first ep.

-- Eira x

#not quite dead #audio drama #vampires #not quite dead pod #gay vampires #not quite dead podcast #vampire podcast #vampire #nqd pod

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cursed-herbalist · 1 year

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𝓢𝓲𝓵𝓪𝓼 𝓐𝓼𝓱𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓭

Ravenclaw • Half-blood • British • Virgo • ISFJ • Charms and Transfiguration Ace • Tinkerer • Emotional Support Werewolf with A Comeback For Every Situation

Pinterest | Spotify

A/N: Silas is open for friends and rivals! So if you’re interested in discussing a plot, hmu!

—

Name: Silas Ashford

Meaning: Silas - Greek/Latin origin meaning woods or forest (it's a version of the name Sylvanus which is the roman god of the countryside); Ashford is a habitational surname and might indicate someone is from Ashford or is/was living by some kind of ash tree ford

Nicknames: tbd

Birthdate: 16th September 2005 (3:19PM)

Zodiac Sign: Virgo Sun, Pisces Moon, Saggitarius Rising

Personality Type (MBTI): ISFJ - The Denfender

Sexuality: Bi, until proven otherwise

Gender Identity: Wizard (he/him)

Blood-Status: Half-blood

Nationality: British

Residence: Castle Combe, England

Hometown: Castle Combe, England

Languages: English

Physical Appearance

Face Claim: Jay Lycurgo

Hair: Black, curly

Eyes: brown

Height: 178cm

Weight: 65kg

Body Type: average

Skin Tone: warm caramel

Distinguishing Marks (scars, birthmarks, etc.): tbd

Voice Claim: Jay Lycurgo

What do they carry on them?: random tools, wand, school stuff, wolfsbane potion, anything else you might need

Backstory

Silas grew up in a small, foresty wizarding town near Castle Combe. His childhood was happy and relatively uneventful until the end of his third year at Hogwarts, the summer break to be exact. A few months prior his sister had found herself in the midst of a werewolf attack, unfortunately, ending with her being bitten. Scared of the wizarding communities reaction, his parents tried their hardest to keep this new circumstance a secret, even from their son. Though, during a stormy night, when Silas heard a loud thud echoing through the house, he decided to investigate a little further. Ignoring his parent's warnings, not to go to his sister's room, he broke through the locked door, and, to his surprise, found a fully transformed werewolf, just itching to escape. That night he had suffered the same fate as his sister and would continue to suffer it every full moon.

More loading …

Family

Father: Lyall Ashford - Lyall is, generally, very loving, soft-spoken and relaxed. To this day he still has no clue how to deal with his werewolf kids and would rather keep it a well-kept family secret ... more so because of his wife rather than believing it to be a ‘bad’ thing himself. He only has everyone's best interest in mind and has spent more than a couple nights, hitting the books in search of a cure yet to no avail. Lyall is a Hit Wizard and therefore a member of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad (he might be a higher-ranking officer, idk. How is the squad organised? XD). Silas and he share their love for tinkering and often spend hours in his workshop behind their house.

Fc: Isaiah Mustafa

Mother: Miranda 'Mira' Ashford née Greengrass - Miranda is a very well-read and determined witch. Starting as a member of the Invisibility Task Force (she used to be a magical architect, specialising in hidden infrastructure), she quickly climbed up the ladder at the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and now finds herself second to the Head of the Department, leading the Task Force. As she had a little falling out with her pureblood family for marrying below her status, she tries to keep further disappointment to a minimum. With lycanthropy still being believed to tarnish a wizard's reputation, she does everything in her power to keep the tea about her children from spilling and, of course, keep her kids safe from the Werewolf Capture Division.

Fc: Dakota Johnson (as of now, might change)

Little Sister: Eira Ashford (born in 2009) - Eira is a brisk yet quiet girl. Unlike her older brother she embraces her inner wolf, thinking it to be cool after reading, maybe a bit too much, muggle werewolf fiction. Though, she still feels guilty for turning her brother. Her biggest wish is to become a badass Auror. She spends day and night practising Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Fc: Ella Balinska (might also change)

Magic

House: Ravenclaw

Best Class: Charms, Transfiguration

Worst Class: Divination

Quidditch: -

Clubs: -

Wand: Ash Wood, Phoenix Feather Core, 13 1/2” Length, Rigid Flexibility

➔ The ash wand cleaves to its one true master and ought not to be passed on or gifted from the original owner, because it will lose power and skill. This tendency is extreme if the core is of unicorn. Old superstitions regarding wands rarely bear close examination, but I find that the old rhyme regarding rowan, chestnut, ash and hazel wands (rowan gossips, chestnut drones, ash is stubborn, hazel moans) contains a small nugget of truth. Those witches and wizards best suited to ash wands are not, in my experience, lightly swayed from their beliefs or purposes. However, the brash or over-confident witch or wizard, who often insists on trying wands of this prestigious wood, will be disappointed by its effects. The ideal owner may be stubborn, and will certainly be courageous, but never crass or arrogant.

Animagus: Werewolf?

Boggart: a torn-up, bloody corpse (hurting someone whilst being a werewolf)

Riddikulus: corpse turns into a dancing sour patch kid

Patronus: White Wolf

Patronus Memory: tinkering with his dad in his little shed behind the house

Amortentia (what he smells like): evergreen forests, metal, new books, maple syrup, a hint of leather

Amortentia (what he smells): tbd

Magical Abilities: -

Career

11–17: Student at Hogwarts 18–24: Studies Engineering at a Muggle University 24-?: Artificer (Magical Engineer; Magical Artefacts Maker/Conservator)

Personality & Attitude

Personality: Although, generally, a very understated guy, Silas often finds himself in trouble but more so because of his own overbearing curiosity rather than for the sake of mischief. He likes to ponder ideas and come up with new things and gadgets and is known for his witty comebacks and remarks, that more than once, have caused him a round of detention. Even with a loose tongue like his, he is very loyal and would drop everything to lend a hand whenever a friend or family member (or basically anyone) is going through a hard time or is in need of help. For an introvert, he's oddly social.

Moderator: ‘Why don’t we go 'round introducing ourselves?’

Silas: ‘Hi, my name is Silas, spelled as it's spoken. *chuckles* I’m just kidding, guys. Anyway, I’m a tinkerer. And a fun fact about myself is that I love anything mysterious.’

Strengths: supportive, courageous, curious, quick-witted, funny, efficient, hardworking, loyal, thoughtful

Weaknesses: stubborn, perfectionist, overly humble

Stressors: full moons, keeping his secret, his own too-high standards

Comfort: reading, tinkering/crafting, forests, quiet, the chirping of birds, yoga/meditation

Priorities: keeping his secret, being helpful

Favourites

Colours: doesn't have one

Food: berries (preferably, freshly picked from the forest), Mexican food, sour patch kids

Drink: coffee (just keeps him going)

Flowers: Elderflower

Music: basically anything; likes to listen to low-fi music while studying (helps him concentrate)

Books: anything involving magical myths or craftsmanship

Weather: rainy days

Hobbies: tinkering/crafting, reading, yoga/meditation, sketching, discussing new ideas, mystical creatures

Style: laidback, neutral/cool forest-y colour palette

Relationships

Significant Other/Best friend: Oscar 'Brandy' Crouch, future Ashford @potionboy3 - Brandy and Silas have been best friends and roommates since day one of Hogwarts—that is until he gets bitten in his third year. To keep his hairy little secret, Silas is removed from the dorm and gets his own room. He decides it to be best to keep it from Brandy, scared of his reaction. Without them even realizing things start to take a romantic turn which frightens Silas and prompts him to withdraw from Brandy, leaving him wondering for quite a bit. Brandy, in the end, does discover that his best friend is a werewolf and, frankly, doesn't mind at all. Thus, the two become a couple after an eventful full moon.

Friends: tbd

Open for friendship requests :)

MISC & HCs:

almost always has grease on his hands, clothes or in his face

has dubbed Brandy and him #sily; no take-backs

slipped Brandy a book of ancient myths about werewolves’s in hopes that he’d take the hint but Brandy was still oblivious xD

likes to do yoga or meditate before going to bed or in the mornings, depending on when he has time

playing ‘The Werewolves of Millers Hollow’ makes him oddly nervous 😬

has his own dorm room (thanks whoever-is-headmaster-at-that-time 😘)

100% a hugger

somehow always prepared … for legit any situation you could imagine. Need tweezers? He has ‘em. Hand cream? Ask him. You’re cold? Here, take his sweater. A spare DADA school book? Idk why he’d carry that around but he’s got you covered!

#still working on it 🫡#but emotional support werewolf has a profile now 🙌🏻#also if anyone has an idea how to turn his boggart into something funny pls let me know 😭#silas ashford #hp next gen #oc profile #moodboard #aesthetic #my edits #wizarding world #my ocs #WIP

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shalebridgecradle · 9 months

Text

TESFest, Day 5 - forgotten + devotion - @tes-summer-fest 1,056 words; PG. No content warnings. housekeeping note: Thrud Winterborn is an OC created by @whirly-wind, who this fic is for, as thanks for letting me borrow the nerd. Julan is once again on loan from Kateri. (Though still just only mentioned.)

The day Thrud discovered his wife could levitate was the same day he fell off the cliff.

These two events were, of course, directly related.

The Moesring Mountains had shifted again. Another series of quakes from the heart of Vvardenfell - bad dreams, the Ahemmusa wise woman muttered into her tea - had in turn set off quakes on Solstheim. Part of the Bulwark crumpled and the stream beside Alt Aruhn flowed backwards for a day and half the night. They were still mending bruises and cracked foundations when Frea’s message arrived.

There’s a chasm near Mortrag Peak that wasn’t there last week. Come investigate.

Frea, as always, taciturn and concise even via teenaged messengers. Not that she’d needed to say anything more to draw Thrud and Eira’s interest.

A low fog settled on the mountain by the time they neared the peak. Frea, only a few feet to their right, became a dim silhouette scarcely visible at all. Thrud could feel needle-sharp pinpricks of ice against his cheeks with every step he took. Snowpack crunched under their boots; that and the steady hum of the wind from the north were the only sound.

“I could clear this with a Shout,” Thrud offered, waving a gloved hand in front of his face. It cut a thin slice in the icy mist.

Eira shot him a wry look. “You could bring the mountaintop down on our heads, too. Just–watch where you put your feet.”

One moment, he was doing just that. The next, the snow cracked when he put his foot down–and then crumbled away to reveal a dark, narrow gap in the stone and ice, a maw rending the old footpath in two.

Before he could comprehend what was happening, Thrud was falling. His arms and legs pinwheeled - it probably made for a comical sight, he imagined later - in a desperate bid for purchase on something, anything. But he found only air around him; it howled as the midday fog and snow disappeared from sight. Or maybe that was just him, bellowing as he fell–something half a curse, half a Shout, and not at all useful.

Cracked stone whisked by on either side. His gloved hands ran over it as he plummeted, searching for a handhold, something to slow his descent, anything–

There.

In the dim and gray light he could just make out a jagged outcropping below that might be large enough to catch him; he only had to reach it–

Something snagged the back of his fur coat, slowing his descent abruptly and driving the breath out of him. Then a shadow, a pair of arms encircling his waist, an embrace he knew by heart.

Eira. And suddenly he wasn’t falling but drifting, slower and slower still, until their feet lit on the ledge he’d spotted in a crunch of loose stone.

For a moment all Thrud could hear was rock shifting and sliding and the thud-thud-thud of his pulse in his ears. The ledge, though narrow, held firm despite both their weights.

“Are you alright?”

They’d both spoken at once; Eira more into his shoulder than to his face. Her slender hands roved over his back and shoulders in search of any wounds or broken bones. “I’m fine,” he murmured into the raven sheen of her hair. He felt her shoulders relax against him at the words. “That was just…unexpected.”

Her shoulders shook with a quiet laugh. “Remind me to teach you a Slowfall spell. Soon.”

Rock shifted above them, sending down a fresh cascade of snow. “Hello?” Frea’s voice bounced off the rock around them, again and again. Thrud glanced up at the narrow gash of light above. It was only about ten feet above them. He hadn’t fallen all that far, after all. It had just seemed it.

“Hello?” Frea’s face appeared at the top of the cliff, pinched and frowning–although it relaxed into a smile upon seeing they were alright. “Ah, you’re still alive! Shall I go get a rope?”

Eira waved up to her with her free hand. “No need!”

Frea considered the distance between them and the lip of the chasm with an arched brow. “I’ll go fetch a rope,” she concluded, disappearing from view.

Thrud eyed the rock face above them with similar suspicion. “I don’t think we should try to climb–”

“We won’t have to.” Eira’s grip on his waist tightened. “Just promise me you won’t let go. I don’t want to have to come back down here.”

“Alright, but–” The question he’d been about to ask died on his lips. Eira murmured a word in Dunmeris; something rippled under their feet and then they were rising, just as gradually as Eira had slowed their earlier descent. His feet kicked in the air, unsupported. But despite his surprise he held fast to his promise–and to his wife as she guided them both upwards and over the lip of the chasm.

The spell expired just as their feet passed back over onto solid ground. Thrud sank down the remaining few inches into the snowpack but, remarkably, stayed steady on his feet. Eira touched down beside him with a soft sigh of relief.

Thrud could only stare at her with renewed awe–as if seeing her again for the first time, a flash of raven hair and pale skin across a crowded square. “Where did you–how did you–” Eira busied herself with dusting the snow and ice off her trousers while she waited for him to manage a coherent sentence. “Was that a levitation spell?” His fingers waggled in the direction of the cliff as he spoke.

Her cheeks flushed with more pride than cold. “And it worked better than I’d hoped. I’m rather out of practice.”

“I thought those were outlawed centuries ago. Where did you…?”

“Well, as Uncle Julan put it…it’s only illegal if you care what the Empire thinks.” She paused, fighting off another fit of laughter. “He may have been drunk at the time.”

Thrud wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Julan completely sober, but that was beside the point. “Could you teach me?”

Eira made a great show of mulling this proposition over, tapping a finger against her pursed lips. “I think I could do that,” she answered at last. Leaning over to kiss his cheek, she added, “Just promise you won’t tell the Raven Rock guard.”

#tesfest23 #skyrim #fanfiction #frea #oc: eira temura #oc: thrud winterborn #my stupid fanfics

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