#i guess librarian assassins is now a thing

[captainkurosolaire]

An Undying Companion

Gale winds of relief blew away the vaporized disastrous fog clearing away allowing the Captain to his rigging aboard and embark. Collecting rubble left aboard noticing Casta’s journal left to them now completely ruined and water-logged scrolling through the pages that defined and she often documented her experiences and often wrote about him in a Tale. He felt such guilt, rumors of many librarian’s beliefs; that you can often tell much about how a person treats their books. Though it wasn't his keepsake in a particular way, his obligation was to provide security over cherished. Luckily knowing the source-material helped. Working with his old skills of forgery and actual genuine experiences began piecing together a new journal for his dear Crewmate’s hopeful return in extra commentary and more heartfelt personal. During his ship-voyage, believing alone going forth for a while, maybe forever onward, this would keep him sane. Below his cabin a noise was heard below sounding of barrels and storage in the hull being rummaged through. Sharp ears shooting up, “A stowaway, again? Seven Hells! Or is this one another ghost? I pray it's a bewitching company ov’ ever bountiful desire.” Quite alarming how common this was but knowing his fortune it’s probably the eighteenth assassin, maybe was him going crazy from detoxing away from his substances. Down-below in the bowels, lights were still damaged absent from the last-fight, making things rather gloomy. Within the corner hearing a chewing of meat to bone. He stayed vigilant before kindling a match to ignite a belt-lamp bringing forth the light to his shadow-invader. Pupils flared-disbelieved opening widely, tearing up but never releasing the valve, his fingers fidgeting, before his lips curved in unadulterated; happiness. 

Disobediently a crewmate went against his Captain’s words to split for the Summer, or disband knowing internally quite closely his leader. Undying loyalty stood up with cackling chains chewing on a former rabid chocobo’s dismemberment head chewing through the grates of his mouthguard messily eating eye-entrails like mortal’s spaghetti. The resident ghoulish horror on his Crew departed but struggled akin to a hound. With understanding Captain’s true intent or wishes of him disappearing, knowing somewhere Captain faintly, didn’t really desire to separate from his Crew in the slightest but did it to safeguard the traitorous attacks. 

Witnessing the ship depart as Captain faced the traitor to reveal itself in confrontation. Couldn’t stop staring back, his intent was obvious; follow. Until the wise Zieton, Elezen observed before encouraging the creature of accursed fright, “You’re going to go after him, huh? Good. Guess I’ll tuck this aetheryte shard in your pocket I conjured, find yourself in peril, or catch-up with danger notwithstanding our agreed reconvening before the foreseeable Moons, I’ll know.” Waving off and walking none of this verbiage seemed like it was processing to a gluttonous creature who seemed to have its animalistic imprint to a degree, committed to repaying his unholy existence. Two others of Crew’s company sent him off for success, Slafhota who was to be a guardian for him had a strong-sense of emphatically knowing beings and creatures, sweetly asked the Ghoulish to not stray away or become consumed by his hungering ways, trained and conditioned to eat ill and spoiled flesh, that which was diseased, or in some cases, the absolute worst. Individuals that played farce to being monstrous those who sharpen teeth to the softest skin. Whilst the peculiar, bubbly personality, Viera, Whyte energetically added, “I want to go too! …But catching up with a ship seems like an awful lot of work. Instead, I’m going to do what the Captain said and find something that brings me fulfillment so I can come back and bring him joy with what I learn! Maybe go shopping too with Me-Me! And-and! O~ Anyway maybe you can track him with this friendship bracelet Captain made with seashells. If it doesn't help snuff him out maybe help you know we’re all with you.” She wrapped it on the ghoulish Xaelaen’s horn. No-signs of amusement from any of them but a fiendish growl. Just glad silence came after they were done. Stoically rushing off following the coastline chasing the sea-vessel in the distance. Encountering multiple ravenous beasts, things proving as obstacles, but cut-through all them, ate them whole with consuming eagerness until using the little hunting in him, spatial perception and enhanced hearing brought him to a mission success.

A rare occurrence of disobedience being accepted Captain couldn’t escape a smirk, the amount of humane emotions urging out of him was defeated by something as detestable, devilishly foul, but it felt so authentic. It brought a realization and revelation just how different things were now, Captain perceived things were returning to him losing everyone or something all-over again, but karma perhaps for the recent event, seemed to be returned instantly. Signs of hope and jolly.  “Mate this is gonna require a celebration. I’m glad ye came back. If certain, then we’ll sail this ongoing black together. Plenty of stuff I could use to help in fixin’ up ‘ere. I’m going to need t’ drink-jollies until I’m o’ alabaster white-dead-to-right in complexion, near my grave like ye appear my grim’n’crim lad! But ye make me feel entirely otherwise ~ alive.” Though it wasn't ever vocally echoed back, the ghoulish ink sclera, blood-viciously sanguine hues absorbed, no doubt constantly observing things in powerful details, deciphering and puzzling together; anything with intent, with heartbeats, their expressions slightly shifting and moving. Whenever its curse or affliction showed reprieve, all this would prove to be a pandora’s box, of unbridled importance to determine a genuineness of his nature. A deadly-sounding shriek snarled out as the Xaela was uprooted off the floorboards in a ferocious bear hug of impressive degree before lowered. Captain confessed, “That’s how one typically shows their fondness n’ greetin’s to a fellow-lad. That or they get a bit more raunchy or share n’ some adultery with company or another, but that can be a lesson in another dawn-break. I’m sure you’d be quite popular as a courtesan, t’ them, I’d reckon you’re an exotic specimen.” Startled the godless fright look paralyzed and confused before finally motioning back, seemingly understanding the motive behind Captain’s first sentimental words, he grabbed the Seeker and tossed him overhead with a overzealous amount of strength, thinking it came down to power to determine who dominantly cared more about their treasured friends. Bearing that in mind, he’d surely kill them; win if required. The competitiveness of the Xaela still swelled in that bloodstream. Captain let out a painful howl until colliding into a bunch of barrels crashing. Stricken dazed seeing stars before shrugging it off, “...Ow.” Folded up like an accordion, before recomposing with a heartwarming boisterous laughter and treating this as a challenge to Captain approved, “Alrighte toss’n’ me round’ like the cheapest Eorzean whore?! I wouldn't gone that far, that's comparable to wrestlin’ but I respect yer spirit! Aye… Y’know let me repay that n’ full.” Crackling each knuckle and popping his neck committed to spare, back and forth they’d beat the brakes off another, tossing the other around, punching each other until what should’ve been a common-hug shared became near physical brawls anytime they’d come across another until swelled bones, bruised aches and nearly breaking their bones on each contact putting iron sharpens iron into their bond that was forging. The Worldly Finder teetering slightly through ebbs and flow, piercing through smashing waves partaking off to the Far East where his Father awaited who could finally provide the answers to his Seeker in a Son. A new-waving flag ruffled through trifling breezes.

[Prev:Chapter]: Fog x Quest ~ ♪"The Curse"♪

#reader discretion advised #-Captain Kuro Solaire #FFXIV Writing #Tales of the Goldbrand #Nihlius Brood #Creative Writing #Scarlet Destiny: Volume 4 #Cerberus #Whyte #Zieton Luiard XII #Slafhota Guhtgeim #Scarlet Destiny #SCD4

[artschoolglasses]

get to know a blogger // tagged by @dinluke​  ❤️✨

Share your wallpaper:

(Because of course.)

Last song you listened to:

Blood Upon the Snow - Hozier

Currently reading:

Random self-pub low-key Regency era fantasy book that was on sale? 😅

Last movie:

Oh god, do I even watch movies anymore? Probably Pride and Prejudice. (Matthew Macfadyen awkward Darcy 🖤)

Last show:

The Mandalorian. (Eh. Like I’ve said, mostly just watching for Katy O’Brian at this point.)

Or I guess Critical Role? This doesn’t specify TV show, so...

Craving:

The vegan pho from the place down the street...

What are you wearing right now:

Black t-shirt with the phases of the moon on it, skinny jeans, baggy green cardigan.

How tall are you:

5'4

Piercings:

Both ears, nose, conch, and tragus (Oh my god the crunching noise the needle makes when it goes through your tragus I will never forget that.)

Tattoos:

Star on my wrist

Old school looking bird on my back

Glasses? Contacts?

Glasses. My eyes are terrible.

Last thing you ate:

... A piece of chocolate mochi.

Favorite color:

Green! All the shades. Especially sage green and deep, dark forest green.

Current obsession:

Assassin’s Creed, Valhalla in particular, but also Odyssey. Eivor and Kass, my loves.

History, as always. (18th Century, French, Regency, witch trials, occult, Ancient Greece, Ancient Rome, fashion and textiles, art...)

Hozier, of course.

Sumo! Been loving watching sumo lately. Want a fantastic sport to get into? Go watch sumo! Oh my god. I love it. (GO ENHO!!!😤)

Any pets:

Two cats. Nell, who is a demonic trash gremlin (named for Nell Gwynn), and Heidi who hates everyone and would rather you never disturb her as she curls up in her quiet corner please and thank you.

Favourite fictional character:

Eivor.

You want me to pick just one? It’s Eivor.

The last place you travelled:

Well, driving out to Montreal, but proper hop-on-a-plane and go somewhere not in your own back yard? Tokyo.

i am tagging (no pressure!): uh... @tiny-librarian​ @vikingnerd793​ @vivelareine​ @wunderschon-lieblich​ and... I dunno, if we’re mutuals, go for it? Or if we’re not but you’ve just seen this and feel like it/are super bored, go for it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#tag #tagging #text #artschoolrambles

[askthewhiteboard]

Book Nº1: Remnants from a fallen order

Grand inquisitor x oc (Mie Cydd)

Ch1 / Ch2

Chapter 2: Bargain

You find yourself facing the inquisitor that you wished to avoid by all means, improvisation is the last thing you have left to get yourself out of trouble…

…

Three weeks earlier

- Unkown regions, Unkown system

You found yourself in the massive halls of the Academia Main Library, rummaging through some documents regarding the military forces of the empire, since the clone all scholars are required to study their behavior when researching outside of the system. You needed to know how to act in front of them during the investigation.

“You called me?” Said an female voice next to you.

“Oh, yes miss!” You say turning around to face one of the main librarians, an elder human woman. “I am Mie Cydd from the History Department, you may know my master. I wanted to speak to you because I’m currently making preparations for a study about Jedi history and current Downfall, I’ve got told that order 66 is still on and that the empire is now targeting people like us. I would like to to avoid trouble as much as possible so I was wondering if you had any information about this issue.”

“Regarding Order 66’s ongoing execution you say?” She says while scanning the bookshelves, looking for something. However she decides to back off and open a datapad she was carrying. “You must not have an authorisation to engage in combat I guess. Well, I’m afraid we are lacking most of the intel you need in paper, but It’s not any major trouble.”

Having said that she begins searching through the files for a private archive on the pad named with the words <INQUISITORIUS>

“Inquisitorius? Is it like, for some sort of ethnic cleansing or forced conversion?” You ask while she passes you the datapad with a series of profiles.

“You wouldn’t think that the empire would have enough with the clone rampage didn’t you?” She says teasingly. “Darth Sidious knew that to get rid of a force sensitive order, he needed people with the same affinity on his side.”

“Didn’t he turn Skywalker to his side already? What about the rule of two?”

“Palpatine has tampered with many rules for his own benefit, although sith inquisitors hace existed in previous times like in the old republic back in Revan’s era. But I had to judge, I’d say he cares little about the Sith ‘traditions’, he just makes use of them as he pleases. This is one of the occasions, Darth Vader is strong but a single person can only do so much, that’s why he needed a wider range of zealots. Not ‘sith lords’ like the ones on the clone wars but rather ‘dark side sympathisers’. This organisation is formed by force sensitive users who have fallen to the dark side and former Jedi that suffered the same fate.”

“So, it’s some sort of assassin guild?”

“Not exactly” she says while you look through the recordings of the file. “Their job apart from capturing, and of course killing Jedi survivors, is also recruiting force sensitive people to become part of such commitment. Don’t be fooled though, they rarely do such, only when the victim picks their interest they try to persuade them into the dark side, the emperor wants a concentrated number of these ‘soldiers’ so he can keep them under control.”

“Do they have a leader of some sorts, or are they directly under the Emperor?”

“Although Sidious is the one in comand and Vader is the one in charge of training them, there seems to be some kind of hierarchy, with the strongest, or more useful, of them being the second in command and even having more authority than some Moffs, that title would be the one of Grand Inquisitor” She continues while gesturing you to open one of the profiles in the archive. “Although the other inquisitors have been changing ranks, that rank of has been kept only by one person.”

The profile shows a Pau’an individual:

-Name: UNKNOWN-

-Status: alive-

-Gender: male-

-Former status: Jedi Knight, Temple Guard-

-Current Status: Grand Inquisitor of the Galactic empire-

-Location: Currently on Nur (Fortress Inquisitorius)

-Age: 45 years-

“No name? Why is that?” You say while looking at the photos of the record, apart from the characteristic dark side golden eye color, the only notable change from his times as a Jedi are the tattoos on his forehead. Despite being in parallel with the previous transition, the shapes don’t seem to belong to any sith tattoo pattern you’ve read about.

“He was a Jedi Temple Guard, all trace of identity is erased from the files when obtaining the title. He must have been one for a some time because his name is unavailable anywhere you look, even here.”

You check the age again, 45, at least by your knowledge Pau’ans have an early life similar to humans and very long adulthood up to 700 regular years, even though he’s a adult by now, he’s still very young for his standard. You wonder how someone who spent the majority of his life as one of the most devoted ranks of the jedi would fall to the dark side.

“Temple Guard huh? That means he was a sentinel, those with yellow lightsabers, they were very rare, is he comparable to Vader? I’ve read they underwent rigorous training since they were also in charge of tracking and getting rid of any sith that appears.”

“Yes, indeed he was a sentinel, although not as strong as Skywalker is, he’s certainly way more intelligent, that’s why he remains in that position. Vader may be more powerful, but he’s impulsive and emotional in regards of his rage, in the early days, he made an absolute mess when hunting Jedi. With the Grand Inquisitor in charge of the elimination and their base moved away from Coruscant, their mission became more effective and discreet.”

“I see, so in terms of being caught, he’s the main obstacle I’ll need to avoid?”

“Most inquisitors actually, if one causes a ruckus, it’ll lure in the others and everything will get worse”

“Makes sense.”

“I wonder, with all these people, why didn’t your superiors give you permission to fight, at least on a defensive level?”

“Well…” you say smiling awkwardly and looking away. “I’ve had incidents with previous projects during the clone wars and although most of the time it wasn’t my fault, things usually got out of control. So, unless it’s a critical situation, which is why I am allowed to carry only one weapon, I must not use any gadgets apart from the necessary or any kind of violence. Even if the excuse is valid, I’ll still get penalised, I’d rather not risk getting expelled.” Her neutral expression softens.

“That’s a harsh punishment, Im afraid I cannot give you any advice with this situation. Although it won’t work for the others, there’s something you can do to bargain things without violence if the Grand Inquisitor ever catches you. Rumors say he’s interested in ancient knowledge more than actually hunting Jedi, in fact, he uses the remaining temple records that weren’t erased to investigate and identify the runaways. You are studying that topic right now and the Jedi archives are replicated here with utmost perfection, you have them copied too in your datapad. Despite being currently an assassin of some sort, his interests sometimes overtake him, Im pretty sure he would be willing to listen and let you go if you reassure that you’re not a Jedi and give him something he wants as in some sort of exchange.” She says pointing at the halls full of books and records.

“What am I supposed to do then?”

“Bribe him, but offer him knowledge.”

***

Present Time

***

“Now tell me, who are you, and what were you doing” The Grand Inquisitor says menacingly pointing at you with his crimson lightsaber. You look at those eerie reddish yellow eyes, doubting about what to do next, you have very little options but certainly one is imminent. Perhaps it’s time to put the librarian’s advice to practice, either that or getting expelled for unauthorised violence.

“I may have overstepped, but trust me, I have nothing to do with the Jedi. If I have to be honest, I am far from their beliefs and much less from their intentions.” You say distancing yourself as much as you can from the uncomfortable warmth of the lightsaber.

He chuckles mockingly and gets closer, moving the edge of the blade closer to your chest, then he grabs the front of your hood and pushes it back harshly, revealing your full face.

“What’s your name?” He says in a demanding tone, analysing your features closely. You try to make something up.

“…Mie-” you say accidentally, overrun by the nervousness, giving him your real name, you’ll need to improvise the rest…

“No surnames?”

“No”

“Age?”

“… 22 years.”

“Man or woman?”

“… other”

“Species?”

“…Human”

He pauses for a second, taking a look at your face while frowning, then he continues.

“Birth Planet?”

“…None”

“None? How is that?”

“… Born while traveling in hyperspace so no planet of origin” you say trying to make it sound credible.

“Alright… I’ve never seen your profile before on any of the records so I doubt you belonged to the order. However, your actions before cannot be ignored so simply, lately, some nostalgic Jedi are trying desperately to recruit delusional children and other allies, I hope you don’t mind a little… inspection.” Although not fond of the idea of being scrutinised you have no choice.

“Okay, if that makes things better…”

“Perfect.” he says smugly. “Now hands up, and don’t think about sensitivities.”

You raise both hands and with lightsaber in hand, the inquisitor pats his free one around your clothed arms, back, chest and waist. Luckily the touch is not advantageous, unlike other attempts you’ve heard about from imperials with less manners.

He moves his gloved hand to the lower part your of cloak and lifts it enough to show your belt, there he sees the retracted staff behind your back and quickly takes it. He inspects it closely without withdrawing his saber from you, looking at each detail he finds, probably making sure it’s not a lightsaber. With ease he finds the hidden button and expands it, you catch a glimpse of surprise in his expression as he finishes checking the rest of it.

“What material is it made of?” He asks swinging it around lightly.

“Durasteel.” you lie again, he looks at you with disdain and starts to move the staff closer to his lightsaber blade.

“Really? Do you mind if I check then?”

“… Okay, it’s not durasteel.” You say lowering your head. “But I don’t know what is it exactly made of either. No one ever told me when I received it. Materials apart, this is just a self defense tool, I’m not fighting anyone with that for no reason.”

“If it’s only for self-defense, why would someone like you need a trinket like this?” He says, putting the tip of the staff under your chin, forcing you to raise your again head to face him.

“Tattoine is not exactly safe you know?”

“That was not my question” He says, abruptly pulling the staff away, clashing both the lightsaber and the staff, the former resisting the hit without any damage signs. “Why do you need something made to resist lightsabers”

You nervously stare at the ground, defeated, unable to stretch the cover up with this man.

“Okay, okay, Im actually from the Unknown regions, however the rest of the information I told you is true. About the staff, In my planet this metal is abundant, there’s nothing more to that. I don’t belong to any dubious cult or faction, am just a scholar.” You confess, although the inquisitor doesn’t seem convinced, you cannot tell him that you’re researching on Jedi history, it’s too risky for your own good. “Im merely investigating history on cultures and traditions of the outer rim.” He finally turns off the lightsaber and tucks it on his back.

“Then, is that why you also need this for?” He says while extending his hand, using the force to make your hidden datapad gravitate towards him. You freeze as he switches it on and takes a look at the documents, luckily the files with the Jedi are locked and hidden so he cannot access them. His eyes widen and after a few seconds, he looks back at you visibly irritated and scowls. “What is this nonsense?”

He turns the screen of the datapad to you, then it hits you, he cannot read them any of the texts, all the documents are in your native language and alphabet.

“Well you see, I know it sounds weird, but there are many other languages apart from basic.” You say sounding more sarcastic than you planned.

“I know and I speak most of them!” He replies angrily. “Don’t mess with me brat! I’ve only seen this alphabet once and not even my superiors were allowed to read it! Why is it in your possession!?”

“What do you mean?? That is just my native language, I don’t know what it has to do with you!” You were genuinely telling the truth, no one in the Academia informed you of this, and you found out in one of the worst ways possible. Fortunately you are as confused as he is, so you either use this to your advantage or everything goes downhill. “I swear it’s just everyday dialogue, it even has grammar mistakes from my own notes!”

“You ignorant, if you’re a scholar you should know it! This language has remained undeciphered since the Great Sith war, do you have any idea of how valuable any hint of translation is??” His tone has made a 360º turn, from interrogator to nerd who’s favorite topic has been insulted, this came completely unexpected, but it’s exactly what you needed.

“Well how was I supposed to know?? My people barely interacted with the republic during those times! History was written differently in my sector.” This is your only chance, you must choose your wording carefully. “Listen, I reassure you that I have nothing to do with the Jedi, if I eavesdropped before on the tavern was simply out of unmannered curiosity, use the force on me to prove it if you wish. I want no trouble with anyone, especially the empire, so if I can offer something as ‘tribute’ and my language is of any value to you, I can help with the basics for the moment, if you want of course…”

The Inquisitor raises a brow at your pause, almost questioning your words but his eyes show interest.

“… Im listening ” he finally says.

“I have a manual with basic translations that I don’t need, but it’s in physic and inside the room I got here on a hostel close to where we are…“ If he allows you to go get it, maybe you can grab your things quickly and flee, but knowing how easily he caught you before, the idea is quite dangerous.

“Keep talking”

“Okay, apart from that, I could use some of the texts I have to make more direct translations to both languages, if you just let me go there and get-“ you have no time to finish before he points your staff directly at your face now.

“Do you really think Im that stupid to let you go so easily after this escalation of events? So you can run away the second I take my eyes off you? Not happening, wherever you’re going, Im coming personally to make sure you don’t attempt anything.”

“Alright, okay! I wasn’t planning on fleeing, not with two more of you guys here, Im not that dumb.” You direct your eyes at your datapad still in his grip. “Can you at least give me my datapad back? I won’t say anything about the staff, but I do not want you to go around with something that has my whole study in it.”

The man ponders his decision for a minute, then he finally hands the device to you.

“If I see anything out of place, I’ll execute you myself on the spot.” He says while you save the datapad on your back again and put your hood back on, he meanwhile retracts the staff and gestures you to exit the alley. “Get moving.”

He follows after you across the narrow dusty streets until you begin to reach more crowded areas, there people stare at both of you, some sneering and other with worried expressions murmuring to each other. By their looks, they either think you’re a snitch or a prisoner, and none of the options are good for you.

“Um, how about we go for streets with less people? I don’t think being so exposed is a good idea for both of us.” You whisper looking around for another path. He doesn’t answer and Instead yanks your arm with harsh, almost dragging you into another street.

“If you wanted to look like a prisoner, I fixed that for you.” He says while walking still gripping your arm with more strength that you would have imagined.

“Oh thanks for the kind action, what a gentleman!” You say sarcastically trying to keep his pace, he grabs you tighter in irritation.

“Watch your behaviour around me brat, I won’t take any taunts from you.”

“Come on I was thanking you.” You insist, ignoring his threat.

“What did I say!?”

“Alright alright!! Look, my hostel is right there.” You point at the building in the distance, as you both approach it, you slow down. “I don’t think is convenient for you to enter directly. Just imagine what they may be thinking already only to see you drag me into a room.”

His posture changes and stops immediately, almost looking startled at your comment.

“What are you insinuating??”

“Hey! I want nothing to do with you in the first place, but, if you were to only interrogate me, why would you bring me into a hotel room? People here like gossiping too much, if rumors were more than enough to bring you here, just what sort of stupidities would be spread if we do the latter!“

“What do you have in mind then?” He says indignated, finally letting your arm go.

“My room has a window that its facing a backstreet, I’ll open it for you, it’s on the back of the hotel, a second floor so use the force thingy and enter trough it”

You try sounding as ignorant to the force as possible so no suspicions rise, luckily he seems more focused on your dumb choice of words.

“Okay… But Im not taking my eyes off you. I want to see you go through that door.”

“Fair enough” you conclude, distancing yourself and approaching the hostel.

Luckily the lady is currently not on the counter so no unnecessary questions will ensue. The hostel is a lot quieter than before, a lot of people are probably hiding out of fear to avoid the inquisitors while they’re here, so you’re not surprised at all.

Once you’re inside your room, you take off your cloak and leave it on a makeshift hanger that you saw on the wall, it’s pointless wearing it now since he has already seen your face. Sitting on the border of the bed you stop to take a deep breath and pause, this day has spiralled out of control. If your supervisors find out about the situation, you will be suspended and probably expelled, you can only hope that everything goes smoothly and the grand inquisitor doesn’t find out about your actual studies and lets you go.

Approaching the window you see him on the street, standing on the roof of a smaller building , speaking on a commlink looking like he’s giving an order. You start to get tense, really hoping it’s not related to you. Reaching for the button next to the frame, you doubt for a second, you could get the little stuff you have and try to run away, but the others are roaming around and if he alerts them things could get worse.

Deciding to finally press the button to open the window, you wave at him.

Spotting you, he looks around to check for any bystanders and leaps to the window with ease, entering the room.

Once you’re both inside, you find yourself forgetting everything you were supposed to do, resulting in an uncomfortable silence.

“Who were you speaking to..?” You finally say trying not to sound nervous, although, he notices anyways and smirks.

“It has nothing to do with you.” He says, extending his hand to you, at least in that he seems to tell the truth. “Now, hand over the manual, I want to check it here to make sure you’re not lying.”

“Yeah sure…” you murmur, grabbing the backpack you left on the bed, rummaging through it you reach for said booklet, of sturdy paper with a thin beige leather cover with the letters highlighted in red. Passing it to the Grand inquisitor, he takes a curious look at it, making it look like he’s holding some sort of invaluable artifact.

“Its on paper…” he says going through the pages with wonder, like a child with a new toy. “And it’s printed a rather in primitive technique, could you tell me what did they use?”

Once again his mood made a 360° twist, his previous irritation nowhere to be, he is asking completely out of excitement, which putting aside the sith paraphernalia, it was kind of cute…

“Oh! This one is printed with a big old fashioned machine, it melts the metal letters into a big sheet and then the ink pattern is pressed on the paper.”

“How curious, when it comes to printed books it’s rare to see one of these in such format and in good condition.”

“Heh, we are quite fond of reading on paper, we have the option of doing it on digital, but old books have always been our soft spot” you say trying to lighten the mood with that sudden twist.

Lucky for you he seems to follow along, you need to measure your words and actions, this man is an expert interrogator, a former jedi and a high ranking imperial, you’ve committed enough reckless actions already. After looking at the pages for some time, he closes the book and motions for you to come closer, you follow, pulling one of the chairs to sit down on the small table, taking a pen and opening the previously unused notebook.

“Well then sir, where do you wish to start?”

#grand inquisitor x oc #pau’an inquisitor #grand inquisitor #the grand inquisitor #grand inquisitor x reader #star wars oc #star wars fic #star wars

[diver5ion]

#the protégé #anna #i guess librarian assassins is now a thing #i feel bad for the books ;c #maggie q #movies #it was ok #// #i can't believe samuel l jackson is 70+

[accidental-spice]

hULLO your ask made me so very happy that now i've got to ask :DDD do you have any DIY blorbos??? i would love to know about any and all of them if so!!!

Awww, I'm so glad it did!!!!!!

Oh, thank you so much!! I'm no writer, but I do make up OCs. Possibly too many OCs, so I'll throw out a few of my favs!!

Dark O'Reilly: Dark is one of my FAVORITE OCs, I admit. Though, I wouldn't enjoy him half as much without his people, to be fair. Dark's a former Imperial assassin (pretend like that's a real thing please) turned gang member (I'll touch on the gang he joins later, they're cool) who is also Force sensitive. Luckily for Dark, Luke Skywalker doesn't know he exists. If he did, Dark would ghost him 24/7, because he hates the idea of fame, publicity, or working with the New Republic for two reasons. The first is he's an introvert. The second is, his dad works for the New Republic, and we don't particularly like him, so there. Also, he's dating a librarian named Kaiya who has a random adopted child named Ookami, and I ship them a normal amount. The last important things you should know are that Dark makes REALLY good grilled cheese, and he has a super cool leather jacket. This is important to me, and no one else

Zemira Kessden: Zemira is a Zeltron woman who after the time of the Rebellion, starts a gang. But it's no ordinary gang. It is a gang that operates as Crime Man does, if you're familiar with that legend of Tumblr. Anyways, she does that, and annoys the New Republic to NO END, partially by accidentally stealing one of their best agents, Ky Hunter, to marry work for her. He's awesome, but I digress

Thaiv Carr: Thaiv is Zemira's older bro. His dad, Finian, adopted her when her family was killed by slavers, and Thaiv was like. Yesssss. A SISTER!!!!! He's SUCH an older brother. Like, it's his favorite job. Though, he also loves his job as member of Zemira's gang (her own gang!! *sniffs* he's so proud...), and his OTHER job, which is the lead singer/pianist/guitarist/whatevertheheckelseisneeded of his band, whiiiich I still haven't named. He travel a lot for that part of his job, which he mostly loves, except for missing his family. While he's traveling, he meets a lovely half-Pantoran, half-human doctor named Miriam, who he can't help but be drawn to....

Trill and Oran Gedyc: Trill and Oran are the adopted twin daughter and son of a Mandalorian Jedi hunter named Cinya, who used to kill Jedi for the Empire, until she bailed on them. Now, one of her best friends is a Jedi. Anyways. Trill and Oran's dynamic goes a bit like this:

Oran: Y'know, Trill, it's not the end of the world to feel... things

Trill: Guess not. It's up there, though

She just do be like that. Also, Oran has a cool leather jacket (not as cool as Dark's, obviously), and Trill can beat people up with her quarterstaff

Senator Gianetta Riera: Gianetta's the Senator of some random made up planet, and is both very much inspired by Leslie Knope from Parks and Rec and Elizabeth McCord from Madam Secretary, and just as very much her own person. She's stubborn and outspoken and LOVES people. Her husband Elio, who is also the head of her personal guard, might occasionally wish she was slightly LESS outspoken.... but not that often, because that's who she is, after all!!

Taneer and Vikki Gedyc: Taneer is Cinya Gedyc's uncle, and also a Mandalorian Protector, and Fenn Rau's bestie. He's like. My himbo-est OC. He makes REALLY good soup (the secret ingredient is love. And respect women juice), and is an excellent cooking general. Also, he plays a mean kazoo. Vikki is his awesome wife, and she holds the braincell in the relationship, mostly

Sierra Waspee: Sierra is one of my two other Jedi OCs, and she's ridiculous. Once, my sister wrote a fic (as of yet unpublished) with her in it, and her introduction featured her singing "Spirit In The Sky" by Norman Greenbaum at the top of her voice. While in jail. Because she punched someone for saying something rude about her clone vod'e. Sierra is a rather unique Jedi. She isn't much of a dueler, to be honest, but she can hold her own. She can see the future through the Force, which is how she escapes Order 66

Stars, this is just. So much. Thanks for bearing with me, and thank you SO much for the ask!!!

#ask response #my ocs #the incrimables #dark o'reilly #zemira kessden #thaiv carr #trill gedyc #oran gedyc #cinya gedyc #gianetta riera #elio cenere #kaiya ipava #ookami ipava #ky hunter #finian carr #miriam nash #taneer gedyc #vikki gedyc #sierra waspee

[jaeminlore]

To Live and Let Go | Renjun

summary: if there’s something left to be learned, then my time is running. why would i waste it all, wasted on you?

words: 2.3k+

category: librarian!renjun x tutor!reader, fem!presenting!reader, adventure au, a bit meta, what’s going on idk ur guess is as good as mine, some sections are written better than others, reader is a tutor for prince jaemin, this sucks so bad i’m so sorry.

note: this was a commission for @yrb-reads who donated to a charity of their choice. thank you :) i’m terribly sorry it took so long and it's definitely not up to par the way it should be. if you want something else written to make up for it let me know. there was depression, full time job, and a death in the family i would like to blame, but i should’ve prioritized this story more for you, and for that i’m sorry. thank you so much for donating, and i hope this serves as a holiday gift for you. again, sorry about the short length

To Renjun, libraries feel like home. Especially the castle’s library, located just west of the kitchen; a hidden gem unknown to most people. Really, only known to Prince Jaemin and Renjun, if he really thought about it. Perhaps a few tutors and scholars as well.

But these factors don’t make it home. Instead, it is the wooden walls of thick cedar trunks, built long before the castle walls were put up; when the builders didn’t have the heart to tear such a piece of architecture down. It’s the way it smells like a forest at all times, and how the inside walls are chipped and falling onto the bare floor. It is the large shelves, made just decades ago, crammed up against each other and overflowing with the royal family’s books. Each piece of literature is practically an heirloom, save the small shelf in the corner where the prince hides his new romance novels he gets delivered straight from the village of Rubin.

The library feels like a bridge between the kingdom and the village. Inside these four walls, wooden and chipped, Rubin feels like one entity, undivided by classes or rank.

It also happens to be the one place Renjun is allowed to hang his paintings.

Ever since he was younger, it has been Renjun’s dream to be a portrait artist. To be able to place his thumbprint in Rubin’s history by painting the royal family or a few important nobles, is all he has ever wanted. But the King and Queen prefer a man of nobility to do the work, so Renjun was shot down. Since he sold everything he had to come and shoot for his dream, the royal family had offered him a pity job.

Correction: Prince Jaemin had begged his parents not to turn Renjun away empty-handed and convinced them to let him earn his pay here in the castle.

Prince Jaemin does a lot for Renjun. He had introduced him to his friend and closest servant, Donghyuck, who has a sharp tongue but no real malice to back up anything he ever said. Renjun had moved in with him, and used his side of the house as his painting room. Donghyuck barely even complains about the scent of oil paint anymore.

Prince Jaemin also got him his current job as a bookbinder. Which, in itself, is a very lonely and tedious job. Perfect for a boy like Renjun who only wants to work with no outside distractions. Aside from his friends in the castle, that is. Or the prince’s tutor, who comes in for study material.

Most importantly, Prince Jaemin lets Renjun hang up his portraits in the library. He had said that they deserved to be hung up, even if it couldn’t be hung up in the royal hall. Renjun had nearly burst into tears in front of the hyperactive prince.

They had met during a touchy time in the prince’s life. He had just returned to the castle after a trip to the village. There, he was hiding from potential assassins, but for some reason, the prince seemed more upset about coming back.

It was in the quiet of that library that Jaemin let Renjun, a complete stranger at the time, in on the secret that he was in love with a girl from the village. For the young artist, it wasn’t hard to imagine. Prince Jaemin was known for his free spirit and hyperactive personality. There was no way he could become attached to a noble raised under discipline.

Of course the prince was raised under the highest of discipline, but he somehow found a way to rebel against it all and stay true to himself, even if it meant hiding the portraits he liked the best in a forgotten library, or befriending the healer and servant of the castle instead of the lords.

He was wonderful, and Renjun couldn’t wait for him to be king.

The library was home because Prince Jaemin made it home. He had crafted a place between the castle and the village — a place of seclusion — just for Renjun and his thoughts.

-

“I just want them to listen to me,” Jaemin moans, dropping his chin onto his open romance book. “I’ve been asking them for almost a year and a half to let me go back to the village, but they refuse to listen to me.”

Renjun hums non-committedly. “Chin up, please. I’m not finished.”

Jaemin glares at Renjun through his eyelashes but obliges, a pout still evident on his face. He returns to his casual pose of leaning his cheek against his fist and turning the pages of his book. “Anyway, I really want to go back to the village.”

“I know,” Renjun sighs and dips the tip of his paintbrush into the copper-colored paint he had mixed. “Right now, you have to obey them. You may be the prince but obviously they’re the king and queen.”

“I’m about to be nineteen,” Jaemin mumbles angrily.

“And when your coronation arrives, you’ll have more freedom to do things like visit the village.”

“Her grandmother died, you know,” Jaemin says, morose. “I could’ve been there for the funeral, at least.”

Renjun grabs a slimmer paintbrush and begins to note the details of Jaemin’s face. “I know, Your Highness. But if she’s anything like you’ve told me, then I’m sure she understands.”

Jaemin bites his lip and looks at the book sadly. “I just miss her.”

“It’s your duty to stay here. I’m sure she realizes that.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes, albeit sadly, and goes back to posing.

“Your Highness! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Renjun’s brush shakes slightly as his mind registers the new voice. It is Jaemin’s tutor. You, a servant the same age as the prince, seem to be the only one he will actually listen to. Perhaps because you entertain his many ideas. Perhaps because Renjun had begged him to keep you around.

Because you not only entertained Jaemin’s ideas, you also praised Renjun’s art. You are a no-nonsense tutor, but as a friend, you have had neverending praise and encouragement to the two boys.

Renjun longs to be around you as much as Jaemin is. In fact, you are the only real reason Renjun finds himself being jealous of the prince. He often wonders how Jaemin could even think about a villager he only knew for a week, when you are right there beside him, every day.

Just the blossom of your smile could make Renjun’s mind freeze in all it’s concerns. Suddenly, the portrait in front of him means little to nothing, and all he could really think about was how many different shades of pink and brown he’d have to mix before he matched the color of your lips. “Hello, Y/n.”

“Good day,” you greet, bowing slightly. “What are you painting today?”

Renjun almost forgets to breathe when you walk toward him and lean your head over his shoulder to inspect his art. He can smell the amber musk on your collarbones and feel your soft hair tickle his cheek. “J-Jaemin.”

“You always paint him,” you murmur, almost in boredom. “Say, do you do favors?”

“Come again?”

“Like, if I paid you, would you draw a portrait of me? I think my mother would really like it— she’s always asking me to get a portrait done.”

Renjun feels his tongue rest heavy in his mouth. Before he can speak, Jaemin grabs your arm. “He can do it! Now let’s get to my lessons!”

And that was that on that.

-

The stream trickles loudly, leaping down and over the rock formations and falling into the pool with grace. This is where Renjun comes to find inspiration. It’s also where he comes to practice his art.

It’d be nice to do it into the library, but Renjun knows that he would abandon all his actual duties — the ones that he gets paid to do.

He eyes his oil paints, color coordinated from lightest to darkest shade. He dips his brush in pure white, to lay a foundation coat atop his canvas.

Truth be told, he could paint you from memory. But if he told you that, he’d have to admit to his crush on you, and that’s far too embarrassing. No, thank you.

Renjun takes off his sandals and plants his feet on the soft grass. The blades tickle his toes, so he tries to relax his muscles. He has the canvas stretched out on his knees, which is a bit unconventional, but it works. He looks up at the afternoon sun; his straw hat scrapes the trunk of the tree he’s leaning against.

“Sorry I’m late. Jaemin needed help with Latin...” You wander in and trail off, looking at the pool in wonder. “This is beautiful.”

You’re dressed in silver shades — Renjun wonders if you intentionally made yourself look extra beautiful, or if that’s you, in the reflection of the water. He clears his mind and his throat. “I figured It’d be a nice background for a portrait.”

“How do you want me posed?” Your lips are upturned, soft, and Renjun starts a mental list on how to keep you smiling.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” Renjun hurries. “We’ll be here for an hour or so each session until it’s finished.”

You sit in the grass, atop your knees, and smooth out any wrinkles in your garments. “My Mother is going to be so thrilled, Renjun. Thank you so much for doing this.”

His tongue feels heavy at the compliment, so he settles for a simple nod. The foundation coat is still drying, so Renjun pulls his sketchbook and a pencil out of his bag. “Do you mind if I start with a few sketches?”

“Of course not,” you say. Your eyes clip to his, bright and clear, and Renjun thinks this is going to be a lot harder than he initially thought.

(The next session, Renjun is so focused on getting the outline of your back right that he doesn’t even notice you moving towards him.

“You’ve got paint on your brow,” you say.

Renjun reflexively wipes at his face, feeling himself blush at your observation. “Is it gone?”

You grin — looking straight at him — and reach up. Gently, you use the pad of your thumb to scrub off the paint. “Now it is.”

Renjun thinks he’d rather melt into the floor than finish the rest of this session.)

-

Renjun threads the spine of his latest project: scribe records from the recent knighting tournament and ceremony. Even as he pulls the last thread tight, his finger raw and screaming, he’s thankful that he wasn’t the one editing these records.

Jaemin hasn’t been to the library in awhile. His current betrothement has him in a frenzied mindset, and Renjun is sure he has more important things to do than hang out with his friends.

Still, he misses the company.

He sets the glue along the spine and aligns the pages with the leather backing. He’s so busy focusing on making sure the lines are straight that he doesn’t notice someone walk into the library. “Hello, Renjun.”

Renjun jumps, and the spine of the book misaligns. He leaves it on his table, and when he turns around, you’re there smiling at him. “Hey, Y/n. I didn’t know you tutored Jaemin today.”

”I don’t,” you admit. A bashful look overtakes your face and you focus on one of the books in Renjun’s return pile. “I wanted to thank you for the portrait. My mother loved it.”

“I’m glad!” Renjun says, brightening up. He notices that you still look rather distant. “Is something wrong?”

”it’s just...” you bite your lip. “Do, um, do I really look like that?”

Renjun wants to ask what you mean. But he sort of knows. “Your portrait? Is it not to your likeness?”

You furrow your brows. “I just... You made me look very beautiful.”

“You are very beautiful,” Renjun replies, voice low and steady. “Surely, you know that.”

Embarrassment paints your face and you shrug. “I dunno...”

“I know,” Renjun says, surety building in his voice. “Whether you believe it or not, it’s a fact that you are very beautiful. I hope my painting portrayed even an inch of your beauty.”

You look aghast at his words, mouth open in shock. “Are you… Are you serious?”

Renjun stares at the way your lips look, pursed in confusion. “Why on earth would I lie to you?”

“I don’t mean to insult your integrity,” you say, eyes wide. “It’s just that no one has ever been so upfront with me.”

This is it, Renjun thinks. This is my chance to confess. He takes a deep breath, steps closer to you. Toe to toe, so that your chest is brushing against his. And the outside air lessens it’s chill, so that Renjun is sure he’s sweating, nervous and hot and wanting.

His luck hasn’t run out yet. “Can I be upfront again?”

Your breath hitches, leaving Renjun’s own words isolated, suspended in the air between you. “Yes,” you finally say, honeyed lips nearly brushing his own.

“I’m in love with you,” Renjun allows himself to say. “And I want to kiss you. Selfishly.”

“Then do so.”

Your lips are honeyed; candied peonies against his own cruel briars and thorns. Renjun wonders if he’s good enough for you. If book binding and tutoring go hand in hand. If he’ll be stuck forever in the royal library, giving you books to read to the prince. He wonders if this is the life of a peasant, always one step behind the nobles.

Two people in service to a prince can never truly serve each other.

But Renjun doesn’t hold on to that thought. Instead, he surges forward, holds your body like it’s falling, kissing your mouth and your chin and your neck and your skin and—

“Hey,” you cup his face in his hands. “This isn’t the last time you’ll have me. There’s no need to be urgent.”

So he slows down. Gentle touches and warm gazes. Tastes you as much as touches you. All lips and no teeth. Memorized the palm of your hand against his jaw.

You’ll still be here, you said so.

Renjun decides to let go.

#the last paragraph is good but the rest sucks srry #renjun fluff #renjun angst #adventure au #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream au #renjun au #destwrites

[bunsbunnybitch]

𝕿𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬; 𝕳𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 & 𝕭𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝕾𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

Ｈａｎｎｉｂａｌ ｘ ｒｅａｄｅｒ

CHAPTER 1

RAIN hammered the ground like pelting bullets, sizzling under the night sky - a shade of melancholy grey - almost eternally. As you wondered about the horizon, the putrid stench of death was near; whatever it was, you couldn't help but to feel unease. Your gloved hands reach to tighten the leather jacket around your form, pulling it close to your shivering body. The droplets of water were cold like piercing snowflakes, it was immensely distracting. Leaning against the wall, you let your gaze wander across the empty street. Tall lampposts adorned the sidewalks, luminescent lights that glowed amidst the pelting mist brightened the mellow street by a not so much percent. You tugged at the hem of your beanie, an innuendo your partner would get.

'Admirable choice of scenery' you muttered, heaving yet another breath in.

The camera on the pole twisted away from your disgruntled form.

"Trust me, I've been through worse." A voice chuckled through the comm and you rolled your eyes, huffing with distaste.

"Rich coming from a person not doing fieldwork."

"Don't be silly, it's my turn to sit while you  do the fieldwork." Alis retorted. "We are Assasins are we not?"

"You aren't. I am, you are just a frail little puppy that follows me along." You huffed, though the reason you never wanted her near was because of the danger that awaits.

'I'll just let that brat figure things out for herself'

Following the incident as to which Alis had found out about your profession, you had thought she would resent you, but in reality, she was smitten by it. You had thought she was completely oblivious to the term 'assassin', let alone stupid of the fact at what it actually is, but it was when she had tried to blackmail you because of it, you knew she wasn't normal. It was also the sudden realization that Alis was Beverly's adopted sister, had sent you into a massive downhole spiral. You were stuck between two roads and two walls. You eventually agreed, and she was - ironically - your mentee now.

"Remember the last time we were nearly massacred by Big Ben, and the only thing you cared about was missing the dinner date with that hot psychiatrist?"

You scrunched your nose. 

"It's Alana Bloom." You corrected. "And it's not a date - just what friends do when they want to have dinner together."

"In a French restaurant with flowers perched on the table? With Red sultry wine that tastes exotic once you drink it?" She mused. "Sounds pretty romantic to me."

"Your sister, Bev, wouldn't think the same, and besides I took him down." You asserted conceitedly, though your tone uniformed.  "You don't have a say in this - you are too young."

"I'm only nineteen."

"What did I say?" You warned and heard a huff - one that could only mean submission. "Also, did you tell Bev you're with Sam?"

You remembered her talking about a restaurant she wanted both of you to go to, but it was all a slur, and you rejected her offer - mainly because of the client today.

"No..." She said slowly, her guilt blatantly obvious. "I informed her that I'm going to learn martial arts with you."

Ah yes, our typical cover story. Which was also true, because Beverly had wanted Alis to learn the art of defense. 

'I mean, this is still the same...right?'

"I'm only teaching you without pay, simply, because Bev is my friend - not because I wanted to, If you were wondering."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." She scoffed. "Come to think of it, how can you balance your job being a gardener, a martial artist, and a bodyguard?"

You shrugged. "Life, I guess."

Realizing that your mask is twisted to the side, you adjusted it, but the sound of rustling behind you had made your body stiffen. Your hand instinctively went to the gun on your holster and laid it there, closing your eyes to tune into your surroundings.

"Location of target: Clover. How many yards?"

You heard a clang and suspected her foot smacked the table.

"Hold on a sec." She mumbled and proceeded to type profusely on the keyboard. "Wait...why are the cameras suddenly...."

The sound of tapping abruptly stopped.

"(Y/n)."She breathed out. "Zero yards-"

Opening your eyes, you flung around, with your feet raised high in the air. They scrambled back in time your foot smacked the pole, falling onto their backs. You raised your foot in an attempt to smack them with your heel, but they jumped and tackled you to the ground, causing your comm to slip out from your ear.

"(Y/n)" The woman, presumably Clover, grunted, getting on her toes. "I'm not here to fight."

You froze in your tracks. How did they know my name? You clenched your fists and raised them into a fighting stance. 

As you lunged forward, her eyes widened and she took a step back. 

"Don't even think ab-"

You threw a punch and she ducked, only to be met with your knee instead. She, once again, fell to the floor and groaned.

"For fucks sake-" She yelled, getting back to her foot. "Can you just-"

Another punch to the stomach had cut her off and she cowered in pain, spitting out the blood in her throat.  Finally having the opportunity to do so you unlocked your holster, and took the gun out. The grip was slippery due to the rain, but you didn't mind. You wanted this to finish, and go home. Sighing, you pressed the gun against her temple. Her head slowly rose and with her free hand, she smacked the gun away within minutes. Still recovering from the shock, you had made no time intercepting her next move. She leaped forward and tackled you to the floor, pressing both your wrists against the side of your head. 

"Can you just wait for one fucking minute and not go apeshit on me?!" She yelled, and you could only raise your eyebrow in amusement. 

"Who are you?" You asked, voice slightly muffled from your mask. "And...why are you here?"

 "I sent you here."

"Oh?" 

You pushed her off and she yelped. Standing up, you slammed your foot against her leg, breaking the latter with a satisfying crack. She made no time to scream, as you shoved your palm against her mouth, dragging her across the rough surface to a nearby pole. You need answers, you are tired, annoyed, and after a full day of training from Alana that Jack had instructed her to do, it's no doubt you need them now. She heard a click and looked hazily over to her hand being cuffed against the pole.

 " Who are you?"

"Look, I want you to be real - real calm if you want to know the answer." She slurred, looking at her limped leg. "And you're going to be really sorry bout the leg you broke."

You only raised a brow. The woman lazily flitted her eyes to you and twirled her hand around.

"Because..." She began, her tone of voice rising into a question, similar to when someone had decided to divulge something secretive, with a sly yet familiar smile you always recognized. " I...."

"am..."

"your roommate-"

Before she could finish, a loud shout had diverted both of your gazes to the side. It was a girl - a little one.

oh, shit, oh no she didn't.

That little fucker, I'm going to-

Alis ran towards you with a battle cry, and tackled you to the ground with a grunt. You assumed she thought the cuffed person was you, and therefore attacked you without clearly seeing the situation beforehand.

"Wrong-" You grunted, standing up with her thrown over your back.

She thrashed her arms wildly.

"-Target." You finished, pinning her to the ground.you?"

"You wouldn't respond!" Her voice cracked. "And-and I thought you were battling with someone who is a-"

"Librarian?" You nonchalantly butted in, and Alis raised her brows.

"What?"

"This is Erica Clamant." You - tone still monotonous - waved over to the already grinning agent. "She's an undercover agent, alias is Emilie Wavers, a librarian seeking answers from whatever her mission is."

Alis suddenly beamed. "You're the Erica Clamant, my mentor-"

"Brat? Can you not call me that? I'm not that old."

"-that has been talking about?" She finished anyway. 

"I've heard so so much about your operations!" She continued, jumping up and down excitedly. "I know about Paris, Cuba, and so much more!"

Erica suddenly grew conceited, but upon seeing your distasteful attitude, she coughed and held out her hand.

"What's your name kid?"

"Analise Katz! I'm sure you've heard of Beverly, my sister?"

"Of course, she visits us every day." She replied.

"Enough introduction, I'm not hesitant to break another leg." You muttered, gaining the attention of the beaming brain cells. "So, Erica, why are you here?"

"He's back." She spoke.  "He threatened - my alias - that if I'm not going to divulge your whereabouts...then he'll find you himself."

"Ah."

You cocked your head to the side and processed the information divulged, with a cross of your arms. Silently, you unlocked the cuff and stood her up, putting an arm around her waist, and hers on yours as leverage. She grew worried by your blank expression, as she knew you and him never quite had gotten along.

"....You have a remarkable skill." She said slowly, eyeing you from the side.

"The ability to shut down my emotions?" 

She nodded, albeit sadly. "And pain."

Your ability had made you well-known in the organization, but your name was never divulged, nor your appearance. You were despised, envied, mocked, and you would always pass by assassins rattling on about you. Some of them were admirers and foes, to which you never bothered to care about. 

Calypso you were, the name designated for you. You would kill people gracefully without mercy; wouldn't feel pain if shot. But to all myths, there is always an explanation for such things. The aftermath of shutting down your pain receptors drains your energy. It will make you fatigue, so fatigue that you'd need to lay in bed for two days or more to recover. And shutting down your emotions had made you feel mood swings that changes drastically. You'd be calm at this moment and in the next, you'll be cold. It was unpredictable.

"I want to help you," Erica stated, concerned for your well-being. "He'll do anything to get to you, there's no telling what he'll do to you if you won't cooperate."

"You don't have to." You said with a casual wave. "Everything you do doesn't matter."

Glancing to the right, you had realized how hard the rain was pouring, and looked over to Alis shivering near the pole.

"It's raining really hard now," You announced, flitting your eyes to Erica with a meaningful stare. "Let's go home, I'll deal with you later."

"Listen-" Erica began, but you glared at her.

"No you-" You jabbed her chest, and she took a step back from the force. "Listen to me."

"For sure, I know he's going to kill me," You admitted.  ", but that doesn't matter. If you are going to constantly remind me of him, then the person that will be killed in the hands of him is you."

"You can't just say that!" Alis yelled, running to grab your arm. 

You shrugged her away. 

" My family was killed." You spoke, voice utterly dull, albeit inside you were shattered from the thought of them. "My husband murdered, daughter gutted...mother-in-law slaughtered. Do you think that I would care about the imminent death that awaits me?"

"We do," Alis stated, you ignored her comment and walked towards Erica with an austere look in your eyes.

"I am a murderer, who kills people for a living, I highly doubt that I can renew all the karma I've done."

She narrowed her eyes.

"I don't expect you to change, although I can assure you that there's time."

You scoffed incredulously.

"I'm not changing." 

She sighed, shaking her head at your stubbornness. As she was about to continue her rant, a certain question caught her eye. In fact, why hasn't she ever thought of this question ever since you both had met?

"Fine, if you aren't going." You declared. "Then I am. Alise let's go."

"Why do you kill people?"

You hesitated and paused in your tracks. 

"I..." 

Realizing the deserted aims of your intentions, you lapsed into silence. You had only joined the organization when you were young, brought, and stolen from an orphanage. Killing had fed you and made you slept under a roof. Although the conditions were harsh, frequently witnessing the death of good comrades, you were thankful. Without it, you would be left to rot near a ditch. But really, all this time, why did you continue doing this after the death of your family? Over the far distance, a shadowed figure of a little girl hovered by the lamp post. You looked down at your hands, imagining them stained by the blood of your colleague. 

"Control." You answered, and you can tell Erica was shocked. 

She took a step back and Alis, the only person to understand your somber personality, is suddenly startled.

 "Does controlling life and death seem appealing to you?"

Her brows furrowed, and realized something important.

"Not one bit," Erica replied and grabbed Alis by the shoulder. "I don't know why Alis - only nineteen - had agreed to go with you."

"I just wanted to-" She began in defense.

"No, kid you don't understand. This is risky business and I don't want you anywhere near it again." She lifted her gaze to you casually crossing your arms.

 "And I don't know what's gotten into you. But my offer still stands"

She turned around and brought Alis along. And there she goes out of the rain, limping along with Alis, who looked back to you with sad eyes.

You hung your head and nodded, shoving your hands into your pocket. She returned the nod and shifted to look forward, continuing her journey with the woman. The figure by the lamp disappeared, and you looked up at the rain, feeling the piercing droplets caressing your face. The rain had reminded you of the time Hazel and you use to knit sweaters by the campfire, while Tom, your husband, baked pastries for his small shop you sometimes help with. 

The sweet honeyed aroma of baked bread and croissants would fill your nose, making you drool already at the taste of it. Hazel would distract Tom, while you snuck some out from the oven and later you would share it with the little girl. He would eventually found out and he'll always laugh in amusement.

With trembling hands, you held up the piece of paper and examined the writing, smeared by the blood of your little child.

"Ah, ma douce enfant. Tu as ce que tu mérites. Tu m'as quitté et maintenant tu vas brûler :). Au fait, quel beau mari tu as!"

Inner rage immediately consumed over you and your shaking fist crumbled the paper, ripping it to almost shreds. You gave a cry of anguished and held three of the dearest people in your life close to your chest, dead at the pool of their own blood.

Upon the memory, you sighed and stayed in the spot. It was a peaceful minute, dwelling under the speckled stars...

....once ruined by a black fabric hovering over your head.

"I apologize, but considering my medical knowledge, I cannot allow you to remain under the rain when it is this cold." A voice spoke up, and you turned around surprised by his bold yet polite manner.

He sounded sarcastic, to say the least.

You were met with shark brooding eyes and a beige-colored suit. His blond peppered hair stood out from his bold physique, and his stance was precise and confident. There was something more to it though, but you couldn't put a finger on it.

"Oh." You snapped out of your daze.

His head tilted to the side.

"You seem a bit...somber. Is there anything wrong?"

"No..." You replied, mimicking his head tilt.

He smiled and nodded.

"Well, then, in that case." He extended the umbrella to you. "You can go home with this."

You stared at him blankly.

"Am I..?" You pointed to the umbrella with a raised brow. "Suppose to take it?"

He gave an amused chuckle. "What else would you do?" He asks.

"Oh, I don't know..." You trailed. "Impale you with it?"

"Wise choice." He hummed and you nodded.

"Enough talk, I will be expecting you to return this to me tomorrow." He grabbed your hand and wrapped it around the handle, and before you could protest, he took out a card from his pocket and handed it to you.

"My address is there, you must know that I am also a psychiatrist." He informed, and you unrolled your fist, staring at the card.

 "Perhaps, I could help you with whatever crisis you are currently dealing with." He continues, taking off his jacket, and draping it across your shoulder. "And I expect you to be well, in order for our session to work."

"This is happening so fast." You spoke dumbly. "Why are you so inclined to help me?"

He paused in his tracks and beneath the soaked hair, his glassy eyes met yours with a tinge of somberness to it. His accentuated lips curved into a smile. 

"Isn't helping people what psychiatrists do?"

You shrug nonchalantly, and inside he took a bit of offense from it. 

"I don't know, all I do is teach people how to beat other people up."

He opened his mouth to comment on your choice of words, but decided against it, only nodding in reply.

"I shall be leaving now." He stated, and immediately the aura around him grew intimidating. "See you tomorrow, I suppose."

As he left, you were a bit annoyed by his sudden appearance.

"Strange man." You muttered. "You can't just appear out of nowhere and expect me not to be offended."

Shaking your head, you examined the umbrella and sighed. 

"Guess I'll have to return this tomorrow, besides I need to go to the BAU early anyway." [ masterlist ] [ CH 2 ]

#hannibal x reader #will graham x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #will x reader #x reader

[moviemunchies]

If you wanted a movie that’s like a lower-budget John Wick about ladies taking down hordes of bad guys, then Gunpowder Milkshake is going to be your jam.

Gunpowder Milkshake is a movie about Sam. Sam is an assassin working for The Firm, an organization that apparently runs everything (or something; we don’t get that many details about The Firm and its dealings). Her mother was an assassin working for The Firm as well that left her when she was young to keep her safe. Sam has a chip on her shoulder about this.

Well things go horribly wrong on a routine mission and Sam finds herself taking care of a little girl. And then it turns out that on her last assignment, Sam killed someone she definitely shouldn’t have, so The Firm is no longer protecting her, and so now she’s the target of a very angry crime lord and finds she must get the help of her estranged mother and a trio of gun-toting librarians.

Alright, I’m going to come out and say it: this is not a deep movie. You probably guessed that, but I want to make it abundantly clear that this is not a complex film that grapples with difficult themes and well-developed character motivations. For instance, Sam says at least twice to her mother that “You always have a plan!” except it seems that she’s almost always winging it. She never seems to have a plan at all. Which maybe we can handwave with ‘Sam is mistaken about how her mother operates’ but that is a bit weird.

I’ve seen this movie criticized as having much more style than it has substance. And I think that is a fairly accurate description of the film. But OH, WHAT STYLE. Look, most action movies wish they had as much style as Gunpowder Milkshake. It is exactly the sort of movie you’d expect from something titled Gunpowder Milkshake. It is colorful, it is loud, once it gets rolling it’s got action scenes out the wazoo.

What I’m saying is: you’re not going to be writing a dissertation about this movie. But you will have a blast watching it. There are guns! There are knives! There are explosions! It’s a female-led action movie in which all of the heroes are women. It’s not like there’s a male supporting character that ever steals the thunder of our heroines, if that’s something you’re worried about. It’s all these badass ladies fighting off the baddies.

And like the original John Wick this movie takes place in a world that we only dip our toes into. That’s not bad--we don’t need to know every detail about how the world works for the movie to be enjoyable. We get snippets, like the library (which doubles as a black market arms dealer) and the diner (which is neutral ground and allows no firearms inside). We don’t know exactly how The Firm works, but we know that they’re the people who run things behind the scenes; that’s enough to understand exactly what Sam is up against when she’s been removed from their protection.

Also this movie has a great cast? Karen Gillan is Sam, Lena Headey is her mother, the librarians are Angela Basset, Michelle Yeoh, and Carla Gugino, and Paul Giamatti is Nathan, Sam’s handler with The Firm. I suspect that the movie’s casting director just called up a bunch of favorites and asked if they wanted to shoot people in a movie. Which, to be fair, would be a great way to recruit me for a movie.

Something that did slightly bother me--while there is shooting fairly early on, the first actual fight scene isn’t until about half an hour into the movie. There are plenty of great fight scenes from there on out, but if you’re expecting fantastic action scenes right from the get-go, you have a bit of a wait, and that can be a little frustrating.

Still, I think if you like loud action movies, or are craving a female-led shoot-‘em-up flick, you will probably like this movie. It could have been better, for sure--if it had an action scene earlier on, if it was more consistent with characterization. But as it is, it’s a fun way to spend a couple of hours. 

#Gunpowder Milkshake #Movie Munchies #Karen Gillan #Lena Headey #movie review

[aliynavenus]

‘A Little Adjustment’                                          a damirae fanfic 

Prologue

next chapter is out click here to read

“Aw man how much longer till lunch I’m starving.” Jon groaned impatiently, leaning against his chair, acting as if the hunger was going to end him right then and there. 

“Relax. We only have half an hour.” Damian didn’t even lift his head away from the textbook he was reading, the study of hidden techniques of the katana, Of course, the academy would never actually have this in their library so he had to take a part in bringing his own interests from home. Even though he knows every little thing there is to know about his sword, it was the only thing that interested him while passing time during his study hall. 

“Hey look, that transfer is in our class.” Jon leaned in across the table nudging his head to where a young girl sat on the couch displayed across from them, “I heard her name is Rachel. Some people have been talking about her already. They say she gives off like a bad vibe or a scary one, something like that. I mean she does look rather anti-social” he paused, thinking. “Just like you! You should talk to her.” 

Damian didn’t even bother to look up, “You know I have no desire for women.” It was like a reflex when he said it though it was true. Never in his life did he care for women like that, even after all those damn setups his brothers have put him through, yet he always left the girl either crying or shut the door right in their face when they arrived at the manor. 

“You’re no fun. Tons of girls swoon if you even speak to them.” Jon glared at him trying to get Damian to understand yet he got nothing but his eyes wandering at the damn book, “You’re hopeless, I can’t wait to meet the girl who actually makes you feel emotions,” pause, “I’ll be back I have to use the bathroom.” 

Tsk. It felt like everyone around him was wondering if he had any sensibility. His brothers, Jon, even his own father, were all meddling into his life wanting him to be more “sociable.” Like that would ever happen. He wasn't trained to have empathy, he was trained to assassinate anyone that meant necessary feeling no guilt out of it. He was supposed to be the next heir to the league. Yet that all went away when he turned 14 and came here. Even though it’s been 2 years since then he really hasn’t made that much improvement in the realm of “socializing” as his father would say. 

What was the point of it anyway? Everyone at the damn academy were all prids who cared only about their wealth and status having no sense of what actually goes on behind their boring life. They were all the same. Not once has he ever felt like anyone could compare to him. No one could understand the insufferable anguish of destiny to become merely just a weapon to then having to adjust to living ‘normally’, to know that the person he once admired was a demon himself. It all vanished, so what was even the point to get to know someone if they didn't understand. 

Damian lifted his head finally releasing his sight from the textbook. He groaned, craning his neck to stretch it. His version began drifting to the scenery of the library until something caught his eye or someone, someone who he’s never seen before. 

A girl with dark raven hair with pale skin seated on the cushion brown sofa, alone. Oh, this must’ve been the girl Jon was talking about. Her face was stuck to a book. ‘The Truth of the Realm of the Underworld’

He felt taken aback at that, no average girl around here would ever touch a book like that. It almost intrigued him. He tilted his head slightly trying not to be noticeable that he was looking for the features of her face. Finally she lowered the book.

And that’s when he saw her. 

She looked so fascinating and mysterious all at once. Her features were delicate and soft, it was if he could see hidden secrets behind her face, behind those violet eyes if anything. Those eyes, those damn perfect eyes. They were something he’s never seen before. Even at a distance he could see her iris were full of infinite specks like gems. This was the girl people said they feel bad energy from, how in the hell can that even be. She didn’t look scary or anything, she looked pure. 

His chest tightened as he stared at her. What has gotten into him? It was as if he could hear his heartbeat quicken pounding against his ears. A lock then fell out of her hair framing her face, simply tucking it behind her ear, he felt his jaw tighten. Fuck she looks cute. Damian never noticed the uniform on the girls in the academy but the way they fit on her, it was mesmerizing. 

It hugged her perfectly. The clean white button up blouse with a neat red tie around her neck. The short plaid skirt--extremely short, laid perfectly at her thighs. Her skin even looked velvety like a smooth canvas with no imprints. She was so beautiful. 

He then felt his throat being choked by the damn tie. Like that helped his body relax. He never felt more desirous to talk to someone, to know every little thing about them, to touch them. She was something that looked restricted, too good to even lay a finger on, especially with his guilty hands. He needed to know more about her, to understand her, so much that it made him eagered.  

“Everyone! Please evacuate to the main room! I just got word that the city is under attack!” The librarian spoke loudly, alarming everyone to quickly rush towards the exit in panic. 

Rumbling was heard from outside the room, making the floor vibrate within their feet. Sirens of ambulances were blaring outside echoing through the glass windows. Damian needed to get away from these people so he could change. Damn it why did there have to be so many snobs in this damn study. Pushing past everyone to leave the crowd to run to the empty hall to find his locker for his uniform. “Damian! Here!” Jon shouted who was already disguised, throwing Damian’s duffle bag that he kept his uniform in, “Hurry. Bane is throwing grenades everywhere outside the school and having his minions raid the bank.” 

“Thanks Jon. Everyone should be in the main room, make sure they're safe. Don’t let anyone leave the building! Contact Wally and Donna while you’re at it” Damian hollered rushing towards an empty classroom to change. 

“You got it, boss!” 

Changing quickly Damian launched the grappling hook gun to extend out the nearest window to swiftly take him outside to see Bane’s minions robbing the bank across the street from the academy, like that was such a coincidence. Landing perfectly on the ground annihilating himself to his enemies as if they were no more than punching bags. “Your combat could use an increase in reaction.” flipping another minion onto an agonizing pile of them. 

“Robin! Someone is stuck under rubble on the corner, they need help!” Wonder girl yelled in the air with a woman in her arms retrieving her to safety

Damian nodded, running towards the place Donna was referring to. There was someone, someone from the academy. It was Rachel.

What the hell was she doing out of the academy it was a lockdown. He didn’t expect their first meeting to be introduced to her as Robin but hell with it, he needed to get her to safety. 

Rachel’s ankle was stuck under a piece of construction, from one of the grenades that wrecked the concrete. Placing his hand at the small of her back for comfort, “We’ll get you out, stay calm”  and she was. He found it rather strange at first normally people would panic and cling to him wanting to get out in harm's way but she was perfectly fine when he rushed to her. Does she normally get trapped under rumble?

“Robin, watch out!” looking above to see enormous pieces of construction falling right to their direction, instantly taking a hold of her head bringing it close to the crook of his neck, shielding her body with his, waiting for the rumble to crash into them. But it didn’t. When he opened his eyes Raven’s hand were up in the air, dark magic appearing out of it connecting to a force field surrounding them in a bubble protecting them. 

His eyes widen, holy shit. No wonder, she didn’t just seem different to him before, it was because she was. She was a sorcerer.Sure he’s seen tons of shocking things in his life that never appealed to him but this one, it was a whole different story. It was unreal.

Rachel sighed hopeless when she used her powers to lift up the construction under her to release her ankle. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag.” she chuckled dryly against his shoulder, at her charade was now over. 

Damian pulled her head gently away from his shoulder, “Is your ankle injur-Argh!” A sudden hit from a baton was swung against the side of his head. One of those damn criminals managed to get a hit on him by surprise. Damian gritted his teeth ignoring the blood rushing down his head turning to the enemy to torture him. Although that didn’t even need to happen when he saw the masked man being lifted from the ground and flung to the other side of the street. 

“Are you okay?” her worried voice came behind him leaning her body up towards him to touch the damage of his head. It was the first time he’s ever heard her speak, her voice was soft yet filed with emotion when she saw his wound. He felt the touch of her fingers gently being dozed in his blood against his skin. Even though he had farther worse injuries than this it felt like her touch burned him, yearning for her. 

He felt his throat dry up, “Yea, it doesn’t hurt.” she looked at him with worry “I’ll be fine.” he assured her. “Isn’t your ankle hurting.” 

“I didn’t want people to see I had powers, it didn’t hurt me. But I can heal you. Let me heal you please it won’t take long.” concern was filled in her expression. He felt his stomach twist with her touches on his arm and head. It was almost like he surrendered in her grasp. 

“Okay. Do it fast.” 

She nodded rolling up her sleeves, placing both her palms on the side of his head. Amethyst. That was the color of her eyes up close. They were big and gazing and full of mystery that he wanted to seek. Seeing her face up close, she was naturally beautiful. He felt his chest tighten once again but this time he felt like his whole body felt tense having her in his reach. Shortly he felt the slow stings takeover the wound, yet it wasn’t painful. It felt bitter but a pleasurable sensation overriding his damaged flesh. It was warm and contagious feeling her powers run through his veins. Sensing his bloody wound reattaching onto clean skin, admittedly it felt enjoyable knowing this came from Rachel. He let out a soft breath from his lips as he felt the tenderness disappear, damn it felt good. 

Then something unexpected happened, writing in a form he never recognized appeared on her arm in glowing red ink. What the hell? Is that normal? Something told him it wasn’t seeing her face expression change. It didn’t look like she knew that was going to happen either. He watched as it soon faded away leaving not a mark on her skin. 

“What was tha--” 

“Robin! We need your help here!” Donna and Wally called out to him who were tangled up in forcing Bane to the ground but having trouble in doing so. 

“Right” he nodded, lifting her to her feet “Get back to the academy, it's safer there.” Running towards his teammates he could hear Rachel whisper something, it was distant. 

“This can’t be good.” 

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

After a successful mission of taking Bane back to the Asylum and returning the money he had stolen, Damian headed straight to the batcave, still in his Robin uniform, seating himself in front of the main frame. 

“What are you looking for?” His father’s voice came from behind him.

To be fair he wasn’t even sure. Right after the mission he came here to do some research on the writing that appeared on Rachel’s arm and her background. He knew his father had to have some relative information about her considering he has information on everyone who are of the abnormal, even his acquaintances. “Just doing some research. Must you monitor everything I do.” 

“No but it is my job to keep you on track to fully live your life and your life as Robin separate.” 

There his father went on again always speaking of terms of wanting him to socialize more. ‘To fully live it’ whatever that meant. “I am living.” 

“Not both. You're living more as Robin than Damian. You haven’t made any new friends except Jon. You only speak to Donna and Wally when you have missions. When are you going to start acting like a teenager your age.” his father’s words were like a blade to his skin. He hated when he acted like this it was an unavoidable irritation. 

“I wasn’t trained to make friends, Father. I was trained for the good of humanity.” Damian bit back defensively, turning himself to his eye father to come to full view of him dressed in his business attire. 

“You aren’t even a part of it.” Bruce sighed walking towards the main screen tapping keys in “I have a new mission for you, Damian. Think of it as an experiment and experience for you” 

“What’s the mission?” 

“You’re nemesis, Slade was spotted in Tokyo. Something tells me he’s going to stay there for awhile. There have been also, new leads in a new chemical serum that could be developed into making metas stronger. It’s a drug for them, yet I can’t calculate where the origin is. Which is why I’m sending you.” 

Damian felt like something was off about his mission, he knew there was another purpose to this, “What’s the catch Father? Why can’t you simply do it?” 

“I chose this for you. I want to send you there to deal with understanding people your age and socializing with them. You’ll be finishing your junior year there and come back before your senior year starts. Everything is already purchased. So we both get what we want. You get to track down Slade as well as any incoming missions sent to you and also, you get to take part in a society meeting people who aren’t abnormal.” 

Damian had to say it was a request he couldn’t resist, if it involved Slade. It was like a cat and mouse game that he enjoyed ever since leaving his deceased grandfather’s side. It sounded well but something left him reluctant. He was going to be gone for a year, sure that meant leaving Jon too, it also meant Jon was going to lead Wally and Donna in crisis. Yet the only images that struck his head were her. Rachel. If he left that meant he could no longer seek wanting to see what more she was. Here he was getting the opportunity he’s always wanted, hunting Slade and leaving the meddling voices of his Father and brothers behind yet he felt hesitant. He almost felt pathetic. 

“I accept, Father.” Damian leveled his eyes to meet him out of respect. Bruce nodded, “You’re flight leaves tomorrow night. I’ll leave you to it.” he said, walking to the exit of the cave leaving Damian to spin back to the screen dialing as information about Rachel. If he had 22 hours before he left, he might as well gather information on Rachel about her origins so he could inform Jon that a new sorcerer was walking around the academy.

Typing in her name instantly took him to another page that blared at him. Of course he was right, his father did have at least some relative information about her. One of the few benefits about him. 

‘Rachel Roth also known as Raven’  so Raven was her real name, it was fitting. He continued on reading everything there was to know, ‘Daughter of Trigon. Left her home Azarath and was spotted a month ago in the city.’  It was quite surprising, he didn’t know Trigon had a daughter.

At least they had something in common, both being raised by demons only to be brought into another way of living. He’d never expect to feel so familiar to someone just by reading pieces of information about her. It felt almost pleasant yet unusual feeling that way. Unfortunately not much was gathered about her considering it’s all new and untraced. 

He stretched against the leather chair acknowledging that this research shall be put on pause for the night. Entering the changing room in the cave to peel his uniform off to change into joggers, leaving himself shirtless. He paused to think about her. Should a woman be this much on his mind?. He almost felt disappointed that he wasn’t going to admire her for a year. It pained him. It was like his mind was being ambushed by images of her, her eyes, her touch. It was all too damn good. That he craved it.

 A sharp tingly started to form against his foreman. It was writing the same writing that appeared on Raven after she healed him. Why did it appear now? Why did it appear on him? Was this like a mark that was supposed to be left on the body after being healed by her. It was strange but no distress came from him, just comfort. The same kind of comfort that he felt when he was in her grasp. Within a second it vanished, leaving no trace of it left. His body felt no different, it didn’t feel like a threat. Maybe it was just a form of writing after being healed. Like a brandment. For some reason he kind of likes the idea of being marked by her. It made him feel connected to her, he liked it. 

But he couldn’t. He was going away for a whole school year. He was going to forget her, these feelings whatever they were, had to be gone  And he knew for sure they were, he was Damian fuckin Wayne Al Gual. He could do anything, anything but gain feelings for a girl. 

And oh was he so wrong. 

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

So if you made it to here. This is a multi chapter fanfic and the summary is basically these. 

After attending a full year at an off the coast boarding school as well as being involved in an undercover mission, Damian is back to the city for his senior year, after completing his missions. Going back to his subtle ways of living with his father. Attending night patrol around the city. Things of course wouldn’t be any different. Until his best friend, Jon all of a sudden has a new familiar looking step sister -- Raven aka Rachel Roth Kent. The one girl who caught his eye back in the Academy before his departure. Although now having Raven part of the Kent family who also unknowingly knows that her new adoptive family are a bunch of heroes living under her nose. Right nothing much has changed. Just adjustments for the demonbirds  

there will be lots of fluff. lots of angst. and smut lol. 

#damirae #demonbirds #damian x raven #raven x damian #damian and raven #raven and damian #damian wayne #rachel roth #rachel roth kent #dc fanfiction #justice league dark: apokolips war #teen titans #its finally hereeeee #i did a thing #ahhhhhh another 3 am thing #my babiessss #a little adjustment fanfic

[shadoedseptmbr]

30 Questions

Tagged by @aricazorel  Thank you! :D

Rules: Answer 30 questions and tag 5 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better.

Name/Nickname: Sept

Gender: Female

Star sign:  Cancer

Height: 5′5″

Birthday: July

Time: noonish

Favorite bands: *whine*  Currently listening to: Stevie Ray Vaughn and Double Trouble, The Raconteurs, Mother Mother, I Don’t Know How But They Found Me, Lord Huron, The Civil Wars, Flogging Molly, Alison Kraus and Union Station, of Monsters and Men

Favorite solo artist: *whines more* Hozier, Suzanne Vega, Lana del Rey, the Weeknd, Fleurie are who are showing up in my playlist recently

Song stuck in my head: “Fire for You” Cannons

Last Movie: One Night in Miami  SO GOOD GO WATCH

Last show: rewatching Buffy with the kiddos, Graduation Day Pt. 2

When did I create this blog: 20....06 I *think*...*shrug*

What do I post: Originally done for Dragon Age, my fondness for archers and assassins and then just devolved into whatever I think is pretty or fun and my writing and my chums’ writing and art

Last thing I googled: lyrics to Scars by Boy Epic

Other blogs: I do a gardening tumblr, too on occasion @higgledypiggeldygarden

Why I chose my url: It’s a combo of an old nickname and my old Bronze board alias 

Following: 295

Followers: 525

Average hours of sleep: pfft no sleep we burn out like birthday candles Uh, I aim for 6-7 and very rarely manage it.

Lucky number: 13

Instrument: Clarinet. A sad attempt at guitar now and again and I can pick out songs on a keyboard.  I sing pretty well, tho.

What am I wearing: black yoga pants, black oversized tshirt, grey shawl because it’s chilly 

Dream job: I really enjoyed being a librarian at the technical onsite library and wouldn’t mind going back to it.

Dream trip: Greece and then Ireland. 

Nationality: American

Favorite Song: Nope.  I don’t do favorites.  I like to sing Patsy Cline in the shower.  

Last book read: Harrow the Ninth

Top three fictional universes I’d like to live in:

1. The one I make up in my head where I made different choices

2. Star Trek (but skipped into the future, please not the 21st century)

3. eh....Mass Effect, I guess?  Again, skipped into the future a bit, yeah?

Tagging anyone who hasn’t and would like to?

#sept memes

[mckenzie1314]

Ok so, This is my first time posting a work of mine on here !! I hope everyone enjoys! Please give credit if you’re going to share on other sites!! Thanks for the read!

-

Restless Nights

•aotc! Anakin one shot

•Anakin Skywalker X Female Reader

•Warnings: Mature content!! Read at your own risk! Just pure Smut.

• Overview: You lover Anakin Skywalker is on an important protection mission for Senator Amidala. You miss him a lot and also,, need him 👀 You surprise him on his mission and enjoy a night of pure pleasure with the Padawan

•Here’s the inspiration for this one shot!!😏

You noticed lately Anakin has been super on edge, more than usual.

Sure, being a Padawan had its stressors, but recently Anakin and his Master Obi Wan Kenobi have been given orders to protect a certain Senator, Padmé Amidala from assassins.

And Anakin was such a liar. You would ask him how the mission was going or if he was worried and he would always say back, “Sweetheart I’m fine. Everything is totally fine. Don’t worry your pretty little head about me”

He always knew how to put on the charm. But you knew he was lying. Obi Wan would call you to check in with the Jedi Temple about the mission to protect senator Amidala, and after everyone left he would inform that Anakin in deed, was a little stressed. “He’s not as focused as he usually is. He might just be nervous with this being a protection mission and possibily wanting to prove himself to the Jedi Council.” He would say.

You knew he needed a little break.

Heck, even you needed a break. Working at the Jedi Temple Library all of the time was stressful.

Since Anakin has been gone a lot, you have begun to notice your longing for him. You missed seeing him, laughing and talking with him. You missed twirling his padawan braid and caressing his perfect cheek bones.

His kisses, those you definitely missed (in more places than one you might add). You missed feeling his strong arms wrap tightly around your body, his lips near you ear whispering naughty things, his calloused hands making their way in between your- ok you really needed to see him.

Being apart of the Jedi and in a secret relationship was hard enough as is. Especially when you were working in the Jedi Temple Library and a certain Padawan would take his daily walks to see his favorite librarian.

That is how you two met anyway, at the library.

~~~~Flashback~~~~

Anakin Skywalker, the rumored Chosen One, made his way to the Library with Obi Wan Kenobi, a well known and respected Jedi, at his side. The two cloaked men made their way over to you at the wide desk. You already knew your fellow Jedi friend Obi Wan, so you two exchanged a warm hello.

“Hello Y/N, how are you on this day?” You smiled and put down your book you were reading. You briefly looked at the boy next to him and for a slight second, the two of you held eye contact. It was electric.

You stifled a laugh. “ Hello Obi Wan! I am very well. You?”

“Just fine.” He smiled back. You and Obi Wan went way back. You two have known each since he was was appointed Jedi Master. He always preferred his time free time in the library. You were a young Temple Librarian in training under Jocasta Nu, Chief Librarian and head of the Jedi Archives. Years later and you are now Chief Librarian.

“That is always good to hear. What can I help you two with?” You asked now looking at the young Padawan. He was, beautiful to say the least. You have never seen such beauty in one person before. He had to of been 19, about 5 years younger than you. He had dirty blond hair, styled in the usual Padawan cut with his braid at his shoulder. His eyes were ocean blue and were mesmerizing to look at. And his lips ? Pink and pouty as ever. They were very kissable even.

No! You thought to yourself. A Jedi could never show feelings to another as long as they were in the order. It was code. And it had to stay that way.

He looked at you, up and down and a small smirk formed on his plump lips. Boy did he know how to charm.

“Well, Y/N, Padawan Skywalker here is going to be studying up on some Jedi meditation techniques, any book recommendations?” You laughed and gave them a nod. “Right this way.” You said, Obi Wan smiled and nudged the Padawan forward. “If he cuases any trouble, don’t call me.” Obi Wan had yelled to you before turning to leave.

And what exactly do you remember from that day? Every part of Anakin Skywalker. The two of you did more than studying meditation techniques. He was hot stuff and he knew it. You remember his hot breath on your neck and in your ear as you were showing him different books, whispering explicit things a Padawan shouldn’t know, but he did. You never felt so excited, and bad at the same time before. You remember his beautiful plump lips gracing your neck and jaw, eventually the two of you giving into the sin. The two of you giggled as you stumbled into a book shelf, having to duck and hide from other people around the library. He was everything you’ve ever wanted. You knew it was wrong, but he made it feel right, made it feel worth risking it all.

~~~End of Flashback~~~

It had been a year now since that glorious day the two of you got hot and heavy in the Temple Library. You occasionally think back to it and smile, then of course blush at the memories. And boy have there been many other times like that.

But back to you feeling lonely and missing him.

You needed to see him. And you could tell that he needed a break. A distraction.

~~~~

You com-linked Anakin. He picked up your call after 2 rings. His small hologram self popped up. “Well aren’t you a beautiful sight for sore eyes.” His raspy voice said. You felt your cheeks redden.

“Hi Ani. I’ve missed you so much.” You said finally looking back up at him. You felt silly, being shy in front of a hologram version of him but, here you were. He still managers to make you feel giddy.

He lightly chuckled at you. “Oh y/n I miss you so much. I wish I was there with you now, admiring your beauty in person.” Sheesh he had his charm turned up high today.

“Anakinnnn. Stop it.” You said covering your face, your cheeks turning a darker shade of red. He really had you whipped, but he was also head over heels for you.

He laughed, his smile wide, flashing his perfect teeth. He suddenly looked around, to the left and to the right. Puzzled, you asked, “Ani? What’s wrong?” You asked quietly as he seemed to be walking somewhere.

“Shhh wait a second y/n... alright I’m in the clear. We’re alone now. I forgot Obi Wan was in the other room with senator Amidala. Didn’t want them to hear us.”

“Hear us do what, exactly Anakin?” You asked, your voice suddenly sultry. He caught on to your game as looked at you, a smirk playing on his plump lips. “Well to my surprise. Does Chief Librarian y/f/n y/l/n want to commit some sinful acts over the com-link?” He whispered, gently biting his bottom lip. He knew that drove you crazy.

You started to heat up, your breath hitching. The effect he had on you was unbelievable. You still get weak in the knees for him while he is half way across the galaxy.

You looked around too, seeing if anyone was listening. Thankfully, you were in the clear. “ oh I don’t know... has Padawan Skywalker been a good guard for the senator?” Anakin let out a deep chuckle. “Yes of course. The senator is under good care. Now, what are we going to do?” He asked, getting that familiar look in his eyes. Lust. Even through a hologram you could tell. But, you wanted to play hard to get. This would really get on his nerves but you loved it.

“Well, obviously she’s not if you’re here talking to me. I guess you aren’t doing your job well enough Ani.” You said in a serious tone. Anakin’s face fell. “Wha-“

“I’m only joking Ani! Relax.” You cut him off with a laugh. Anakin shook his head and bit his lip again.

“ You are such a tease y/n. You know I don’t like that.”

“Oh I know you don’t. Where are you staying exactly?” He then told you where he was staying, some extra quarters the Senator had in her apartment. He also told you that him and Obi Wan would take shifts on watching over the Senator while she slept.

If you were going to go over, you had to do it while he was on his sleeping schedule. You figured Anakin knew what you were up to, his tone in voice got more and more velvety the more you two talked.

It was going to be risky but, so was the whole relationship.

~~~~

You arrived to the Senator’s Apartment. Anakin told you of a secret entry way he found to get in without having to go through all the trouble and hassle of the security system.

You didn’t exactly tell him when you would get there, but he knew you would be there sometime that night.

You wanted to surprise him, have him come in and see you, and then take you right there.

You made it into his room, you could tell it was his because you could see his change of dark Jedi cloaks hung on the wall. The thing about Jedi is that, well, you never had much down time and changing clothes didn’t happen as often as you wanted.

You heard voices close to his door. It sounded like the Senator, Anakin and Obi Wan. You stayed quiet to try and listen. “Well today was a successful day in the senate! I am now very tired and will retire to my room. Thank you Obi Wan and Anakin.” She said.

“Of course Padmé. Sleep well.” Obi Wan stated.

You could faintly hear her heels walk off.

“I will take the first shift Anakin. You have 2 hours remember. Don’t make me have to keep waking you up.” Obi Wan instructed. “Yes of course master. I will not let you down like last night.” Anakin stated. You giggled quietly. Anakin loves his sleep, even though he barley got enough of it.

You suddenly felt a little guilty. You were going to be taking away from his sleep. You knew he would have terrible nightmares as is. You shook your thoughts away as you heard his door slide open.

You sat straight up in the chair on the other side of the room.

The door closed slowly and you could tell Anakin knew you were in the room. It was dark, but you could see his figure. You waited for him to say something, but he never did.

Maybe his force senses were off?

That couldn’t be. Anakin has the highest midi chlorian count ever recorded. He definitely knew you were in there.

“ Ah stars I am tired.” Anakin said outloud with a slight groan. This drove you a little crazy. You then suddenly had an idea.

Anakin proceeded to undress, slowly you might add, making you more and more eager to feel his touch, to have him undress you.

But you had to wait just a little longer. His toned body was always a turn on for you. His strong arms and broad shoulders, his chiseled pecs and abs. He was truly a work of art.

Anakin wore nothing but long black pants. He walked over to the window and opened the blinds, the lights from the outside city shone his beautiful side profile. His jaw line stood out, his pouty lips extra plump. You couldn’t wait to kiss them, bite them, feel them on your hot skin.

Anakin chuckled slightly but then pretended like he had to cough. You forgot sometimes that he could read your thoughts. Your want and desire for him was going off like an alarm and he knew it. He finally made his way over to the bed, getting under the covers and adjusting him self, and finally pretending to be asleep.

You waited a few minutes. You wanted to watch Anakin sleep. Not in a creepy way but, you just loved seeing him calm, and vulnerable.

He even looked beautiful while he slept. The city lights made it look like there was a halo around his head. The chosen one, Anakin Skywalker was your lover. You loved him. The both of you haven’t really gotten to that level yet but, you have been thinking about it a lot. You definitely loved him and would do anything for him. Hopefully soon, you could get the courage to tell him that.

You were getting antsy and remembered your little game you had in mind. It was filthy, but it was hot and Anakin would absolutely love it.

You stood up and slowly made your way over to where Anakin slept. You didn’t exactly know how to start. You wanted to ‘surprise him’.

You smirked. You had another brilliant idea. You sat on his bed, ever so gently caressing his beautiful face. You bent down and kissed his lips, lingering for a moment. “Anakin, Anakin.” You whispered in a dreamy type tone. His eyes twitched, then he scrunched his nose. Wow he was such an actor. You kept caressing his face, slowly moving his blankets off of his body. “ Annnnaaakinnnn. What issss it that you trulyyyy dessirreee?” You say again in the whisper voice. His face was showing many emotions.

His hips bucked up in the air, his breathing becoming heavier. “Y/n. D-desire y/n” He mumbled in his “sleep”. You couldn’t help but blush. You carefully moved yourself to be on top of him. You gently against his crotch, quickly feeling a reaction. “ mmm- ah-ah, fuck.” He lightly moaned, pretending this was all a dream. Your lips pressed to his ear, licking the lobes of his ears and whispering his name over and over.

You left light kisses on his face, then moved to his neck, sucking lightly making sure not to leave bruises. He began to hiss and suck in his breath. His hips rocked a little harder against you. You moved your hands down his beautiful chest, carefully moving off his crotch and putting your face near his crotch, his erection very visible through the pants. His face contorted as you slowly pulled down his pants, chanting, “ The Chosen One” over and over. You knew this was one of his many kinks.

His breahting and moans were becoming more erratic.

Once his pants and boxers were pulled down, his hard dick sprung up. You had to hold back a giggle. You took him into your mouth, earning a low moan from Anakin. His breath hitched and made a hiss noise.

You moved your head up and down his shaft, hallowing your cheeks to really take more of him in. Anakin was groaning quietly now. His naked hips were bucking against your face at a slow Rhythm.

As you continued, you heard Anakin saying things. He was moaning your name. The thought of having the chosen one moaning your name and being vulnerable was making you want him inside you more and more.

“Mmm y/n. Yes, yes. Ah ah. Mmm fuck.” He moaned quietly. You figured this was enough, and you stoped sucking him immediately. As soon as you did Anakin sat right up. His lust blown eyes stared down at you.

“Y/n why did you stop? You tease.” He said with a deep breath and a wide grin.

“Oh so you did know I was here then huh?” You said as you sat up laughing along. “Come here.” He whispered and pulled you into him, his plump pink lips molding into yours. You moaned into the kiss. You have been needing this for so long. He moved down to your neck, biting and sucking. “Of course I knew you were here. Just didn’t expect you to start out with giving me head And pretending to be a ghost” He said while he attacked your neck. You let out a breathy laugh.

“Had to start somewhere Skywalker.” You said moving your hands into his short hair, gripping at what you could. He laughed against your neck as he began to take your top off. You noticed he suddenly slow down, admiring your chest. “Ani?” You asked slightly concerned. He grinned. “ Just admiring your body. It truly is art work y/n.” You blushed for the 50th time and kissed him sweetly. He suddenly grabbed you and flipped positions, you now being on the bottom.

“Now, let me indulge in my favorite art work shall we?” His rough hands gripped your thighs and made their way up your sides. he kissed you passionately. You moaned into the kiss once he unclipped your lacy bra without any struggle. He gently bit your bottom lip, driving you up the wall. He broke away from the kiss, sitting back up to admire you again, this time topless.

“ Y/n, you are the most beautiful creature in all the galaxy.” You felt cocky for a second. “ even more attractive than a certain Senator?” You asked in a sultry tone, sitting up on your elbows. Anakin’s face held a look of pure bewilderment. “ Why would you even ask that? Y/n you are an angel, like I told you the first day I met you” He said as he moved off the bed and got on his knees. You stared at him quizzically. “And how can I know that you haven’t said that to Senator Amidala as well Anakin?” You said, cocking an eyebrow. You were messing with him and really wanted to see where this would go.

Anakin hooked his arms around the underside of your thighs and quickly pulled you close to him, causing you to giggle. You knew exactly what he was about to do. “Now now Chief Librarian Y/L/N. I would never ever go back on my word. I’ve only met one angel, and that angel just happens, to be you.” He said in between soft kisses on the inside of your thighs. He got so close to where you needed him most, but he continued to tease you.

“But, maybe I am mistaken. Would a so Called angel, NOT where underwear? Look at you. Already a wet mess for me.” He exclaimed.It added to the excitement of the night- going commando you thought.

You began to squirm. You needed him to take you now, fill you up with all of him, fuck you senselessly into tomorrow.

As if he read your thoughts, He slowly began to push himself into you. Your hand flew up to your mouth to cover your loud moans. The last thing you needed was Obi-Wan coming in and the secret love affair is ruined.

“Thats is babygirl, gotta be quiet.” He breathed out and his movements continued. You needed him now. “F-faster Ani.” You moaned quietly. His hips picked up more speed, rough hands gripping onto your love handles and squeezing them. You threw your head back as you suddenly felt an invisible force play with your clit. You absolutely loved it when Anakin fucked you with the force. Even as a Padawan he knew how to unlock more sides of its power.

“fuck Ani- ugh f-faster!” You whimpered, biting your lip so hard it began to sting. Anakin grunted, sweat building up over his beautiful body. He leaned closer into you, to create more friction like he knew you loved. His Padawan Braid kept smacking you in the face but you loved it. He knew how to make you feel good in all the right places.

His moans were your favorite sound. You loved just watching his reactions as he made loved to you- the pure ecstasy written over his flawless face. He picked up the pace even more, a very familiar feeling quickly building up in the pit of your stomach. The force rubbing on your clit intensified, finally sending you over the edge. “Ani! I- I’m- ahhhh fuck!” You whisper shouted as you rode out your high. “Oh fuck baby. I’m almost there.” He groaned. You smirked. “ Come on Chosen One. Cum inside this angel. Let it go.” You said in his ear. That was it. A string of moans and profanity were said as Anakin came inside you.

He slowly pulled out and quickly got to work licking your cunt and cleaning you up. You let out more strings of moans and content hums. He swirled his tongue in each direction, licking you clean. This was always his favorite part. He sits on his knees and smirks down at you in your relaxed state. He wipes his chin and brings his long fingers to his lips, licking some. “ Mmm delicious. Angel, would you like to try?” He said bending over on top of you and holding his fingers up to your mouth. You took his fingers into your mouth and sucked on them, tasting the juices.

Anakin grabs his com link and checks the time. “ An hour left. Wanna cuddle till then baby?” He asks as he grabs the blanket covers and covers both your naked bodies.

“ Of course Padawan Skywalker.” You say as you cup his face and gently kiss him. Anakin smiled and deepened the kiss. “ In all seriousness though, thank you for coming over here tonight. I very much enjoyed and appreciated that.” He said tracing your back with this rough hands. “No problem Ani. We both needed a break. Here’s to many more nights like these. “ you say with a giggle. Anakin chuckled and smiled down at you. “ Yes, especially when I’m away on missions.” He said as you both quietly laughed, finally snuggling into each others warm bodies and enjoying the time you both had together before reality would soon strike again.

#anakin skywalker #star wars #smut #attack of the clones #IM REAL NERVOUS

[kireiryuusei]

Of course right as I finished Nyssa, this lady came a banging to be made. And now finally done. The template comes from @genshin-impact-ocs quick profile. Kudos again. 

• Name, Age, Birthdate and Birthplace

Vasilissa, 20-22, December 7th, Snezhnaya

• Constellation

Grus Vespira (Evening star Crane)

• Elemental Magic

Pyro

• Weapon

Sword - most commonly straight one-handed swords

• Occupation (Merchant, Adventurer, Knight of Favonius, Librarian, Member of the Fatui, etc)

Vasilissa is a mercenary by trade. She is not affiliated with the Treasure Hoarders but does frequent similar haunts such as ruins. This is due to her being a reliable person for scholars to hire for the heavy lifting they cannot do. She gets bored looking at old ruins though and likes running into ruin guards, elementals and Treasure Hoarders.

• Description of physical appearance

Vasilissa stands tall for a young woman and her presence makes her seem larger. She has olive skin with a myriad of scars from her mercenary status. She has a metal prosthetic arm that is normally concealed by her sleeves gloves. The arm itself can be described as ‘sharp’ with its extensions. She has peach colored hair with very loose ringlets she wears down. Her eyes are a bright red.

• Backstory

Vasilissa was born to a Snezhnayan mother and Natlan father. They were a strange compliment to each other that Vasilissa adored. She grew up around the children of her parents’ coworkers and neighbors. One in particular was rather large family compared to hers and she often was with the child closest to her age, Ajax. 

Their relation was that of competitiveness. From who could get to the house first to who could catch the most fish to, worryingly, who could take the cold the longest. Their favorite things to do were racing the top of a small ‘mountain’ near their homes and enacting sword fights with each other. They even had a tally for their win-loss record.  They were a rambunctious pair into their adolescence. 

This changed when Ajax when missing. When he returned, any could tell that something happened. Vasilissa was never able to learn what this was other than ‘it’s been more than this.’ She knew there was an dangerous edge to him when their sword fights became one-sided. However Vasilissa was stubborn. This was her rival! They were supposed to be on even ground! She couldn’t see three days of ‘camping’ making such a difference. 

Continuing with her stubbornness, she went with Ajax on his increasing dangerous endeavors. This led to a Mitachurl catching her off-guard and it nearly cleaving her. It instead gouged her arm. The damage and the cold left no choice but for her left arm to be amputated.

In recovery, Ajax had come to essentially tell her he would not take her with him any further. He would not take someone that would become a liability, he told her. Those words dug deep to Vasilissa and she was left to her throughs. What would it be like to no longer stand on par with her friend? How could she move forward? Could she accept things as they were? These questions stormed her head. 

One morning, her parents awoke to find a letter informing of her intention to seek her own treatment to not burden them and the promise she would return a stronger woman. Ajax awoke to an old play sword at the foot of his bed and a simple message:

Race you to the top. 

Her search was to get strong first and worry about her arm second. It wasn’t easy to have anyone teach her however her tenacity and ferocity made up for any doubt. She was making progress when she came to Sumeru, where scholars found the challenge of a replacement interesting. Especially to channel a Vision through. This led to the arm Vasilissa has now and she spent months if not a couple years to train herself for delicate usage. 

To pay for this, Vasilissa serves as ‘hired muscle’ or ‘a pair of legs’ for Sumeru Academia. It seemed like she was always running somewhere and she ignored any heckling of her rather laborious job. But because of her constant activity, she quickly repaid her debts and left. She went traveling and it gained her a reputation as the Blazing Claw or the Scarlet Wraith. The former for the channeling of her Vision in her arm. And the other being her ability to suddenly lose presence and strike like an assassin and disappear. While she was confident in her strength, she isn’t sure she’s caught up. Thus she hasn’t returned to Snezhnaya. 

• Their most precious possessions

Vasilissa doesn’t have anything physical she considers precious. Although she acknowledges that her arm is quite useful and it might be a pain without it. Her real treasure is a secret that she has regarding that day that ‘opened her eyes.’

• Role in the Traveler’s adventure

She is a guide to the Traveler when they travel to Sumeru, being quite familiar with the area and happening to need to reach Sumeru Academia too. 

• Side Quests associated with them

Vasilissa comes up in a side quest involving beating Treasure Hoarders to an expedition site. However the employer just wanted a quick clear of the ruins with no intention to pay either side. The disruption while inside causes the activation of Ruin Guards, which the Treasure Hoarders flee and the employer is injured. Vasilissa lets the Traveler keep the spoils since ‘this sorry sack sure doesn’t need it’ and supposedly drags them off for discipline at Sumeru Academia (but there is implication she didn’t do this).

• How they earned their Vision (if applicable)

It was Vasilissa’s decision to leave. And this decision wasn’t easy as she was weakened from her injury and she was not accustomed to her shift in balance. But she was driven. All she could think through hunger and fever was how she wanted to be the first to the top. To be one of the greats. To triumph over anyone or anything that’s in her way. And it was this drive that brought her her Vision, a blessing from the Pyro Archon. 

• Favorite member of the party

Probably Beidou, they seem a lot alike.

• Least favorite member of the party

It looks like Childe, just based on how they seem to be close to a fight all the time. But, honestly, they’re both just Like That. In reality, it’s probably DIluc or Jean. Too uppity for her (although for Jean might be some ‘she’s cute and I don’t know what to do’) 

• Their thoughts on Teyvat

Teyvat is quite beautiful. It is rife with its own conflicts and troubles. Yet it is from these troubles she can see the efforts to endure and see beyond what is there. She is ambivalent about the Archons that control the lands as she feels she has no real stake with them. She does want to challenge one for kicks eventually. But overall, she feels the winds of change and is willing to go along with it as change is always more exciting...not always for the best...but exciting nevertheless. 

• Voice Actors

Not very good with this section...but I guess

English - Avalon Penrose

Japanese - Youka Wao

Chinese - ???

Korean - ???

#genshin impact #genshin impact oc

[blackaquokat]

The Song You Might Have Been (Chapter 4)

Link to Chapter 1 and Chapter 3 here!

A/N: TW for another attempted murder. Plus a fistfight. Because our leading characters are emotionally constipated morons.

---

Funnily enough, the next attempt for your life has nothing to do with your framed case. Which is both a good and bad thing.

Good because a paid assassin is more difficult to sniff out and is financially motivated to really ensure the job is done. Not to mention is more talented at getting away with murder.

Bad because at the moment you’re staring at Newman and three other lackies behind him. They have cornered you in the empty laundry room. Newman is brandishing a shiv sharpened from a toothbrush. You recognize two of his companions as criminals you prosecuted: one for murder and another for drug dealing.

“No one here to protect you now, huh, Eagle?” Newman sneers. “Which means we can cut you up however you want and no one will be any the wiser.”

You swing your arms back and forth casually before putting them behind your back. While you try to slyly get a grip on the large measuring cup of bleach on the table behind you, you speak up. “You’re really tempting fate here, aren’t you? Or are you telling me that Yancy gave you the all-clear to kill me after assigning me a bodyguard rotation?”

The Murderous inmate--Jerry Carson, you remember--pales three shades and turns on Newman. “Wait, hold on, this drip is still under Yancy’s protection? What the hell are you playing at, Newman? I don’t wanna be on Yancy’s shit list!”

Inmate-You-Don’t-Recognize nods frantically in agreement. “I only agreed to this because I was promised more cigarettes, but going against Yancy is suicide!”

(How are these guys so clueless? It’s not like it’s a secret that the gang has been joined to your hip for this long. Or is the rest of the prison under the impression that you’re just an unfortunate tag-along trying to kiss your way up the ladder?)

“Cowards, the lot of you!” Newman snaps. He turns back to you. “Not that I need help killing you. You’re just an attorney. What are you gonna do, throw the book at me?”

You let a sinister smile crawl across your face. “Maybe not the book.”

Newman’s eyes narrow into slits and he lunges for you--only to reel back screaming when you throw the bleach in his eyes.

You drop the cup and charge around him while he flails and furiously wipes at his face. To your surprise, none of the lackeys try to grab you as you escape.

On your way out of the room, you run smack into someone and start flailing when arms hold you in place.

“Whoa, whoa there, Eagle!” Once you hear Jimmy’s voice, you calm down and he releases you. “What’s your hurry?”

“They were about to be a pincushion.”

Jimmy turns to address, much to your surprise, the Drug Dealing inmate who had been suspiciously silent during the whole exchange. Declan Millard, you finally remember. 

“You the guy who let Bam-Bam know this was going down?”

Declan nods and winks at you. “Not that I have any fuzzy feelings for you, Eagle, but my lawyer informed me that you were pretty generous about my sentencing.”

“Considering I learned you discouraged dealing to the younger kids in the neighborhood you were in,” you respond automatically, more than a little stunned at this turn of events, “and that you gave up other dealers during the trial, it seemed like the fair thing to do.”

“Not many lawyers are fair, Eagle,” Declan reminds you. “I’d hate to deprive the world of the only one I know.”

“I see I missed the fun.” The three of you turn again and there’s Yancy, once again appearing out of nowhere. His arms are crossed, leaving his forearm tattoo in full view. He looks more lethal than you’ve ever seen him. 

“Not quite, boss.” Declan jerks a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the laundry room where they can all still hear Newman screaming and swearing. “The other two didn’t quite know what they were getting into, but Newman did.”

Yancy nods and cracks his knuckles. He puts a hand on your shoulder. “Why don’t youse go relax in your bunk for a bit? Jimmy and I can take care of this ourselves.”

“Just Newman,” you say, suddenly. “He’s the only one who tried to hurt me.”

“And he was paid for his efforts with a face full of bleach,” Declan reports in a gleeful tone. “It was an impressive sight.” He looks you up and down impressively. “You keep surprising me, Eagle.”

“Yes, yes, they’re very surprising,” Yancy repeats dismissively. “Clear out, Declan. Eagle, back to your cell, that’s an order.”

The look you give him at that statement is enough to have him offer only a somewhat apologetic grimace before entering the laundry room with Jimmy.

You’re halfway down the hall before you hear a loud scream that cuts off into a gurgle only moments later.

---

You go back to your cell, simply because you don’t have anything better to do besides work on another letter to send to the legislature, but when you get there, you almost think you’ve gotten horribly mixed up.

“Um…”

Your cell is completely redecorated. There’s a small white wire tea table with matching chairs and a vase with lovely yellow flowers. Your second set of prison clothes are hanging on various clotheslines. There’s a tiny nightstand with a lamp by your bed, which has new sheets, a comforter, and two more fluffy pillows. Toiletries, of all things, sit in a neat section on the back of and next to the toilet. There’s even an adorable little potted tree with white leaves (that one is probably fake). Someone even put a goddamn fur rug next to the bunk with a pair of slippers. Slippers, for God’s sake.

You’re still gaping at all of this contraband, which makes the cell seem almost decadent in its furnishings, when you hear a low laugh behind you and whirl around to see Heap-Ass deliver you a casual salute before leaving.

“Why the tree?” you blurt out first, because apparently that is the strangest thing in this room and not the goddamn fur rug and furry pillow.

“The boss loves trees,” Heap-Ass yells back.

“Thanks!” you hurry to say before he gets out of earshot. Reverently, you sit at the wire table, where your writing supplies and paper and even a brand new leather bound notebook awaits you, and get started on another letter.

What alternate dimension have I fallen into?

When Yancy returns, his hands suspiciously cleaner than they normally are, you ask him if the refurbishings were his doing. You’ve moved from the table to your bed, curled under the blankets, the lamp switched on, and have now moved onto writing notes in your notebook. It’ll be easier to keep lists of requests in this rather than whatever scraps of paper you can get your hands on.

He shrugs at your questioning look. “Consider it a sign of gratitude for the new books. And the poetry readings youse been doing every night.”

You shut the notebook. “And you go this far for just anyone who does you favors?”

“Only I didn’t ask youse for the books, did I, Eagle?” Yancy challenges. “Did that on your own. Because youse got more fight and more brains than any other goon in this place.”

“Yancy--”

“Listen here, Eagle, I ain’t takin’ any refusal for the gift, alright? Besides, I benefit from these furnishings too.”

“You love trees, yeah, I heard.” 

You want to trust that that’s all this is, you really do. You appreciate the little things that have gone a long way to make you more comfortable, but that’s the problem. You don’t want to get comfortable. If you get comfortable, then it will be that much harder to leave.

Something tells you that that might be exactly what Yancy was hoping for. Though God knows why he’s so desperate for you to stick around.

“And this has nothing to do with the fact that my last update with Damien involved breaking down more of Merrill Byron’s operation?”

Yancy flinches and avoids your question by hopping into the top bunk. Moments later, “What makes you think I care what your soon-to-be Mayor friend has to say?”

“Because if they manage to pin any of that operation to Byron, then my name gets cleared and I can leave.” 

You can’t see his face, but Yancy’s silences can be just as telling as the nonsense he spouts off. 

“Hey, Eagle!” shouts Bam-Bam from down the hall. “You gonna read tonight or what?”

You sigh and reach for the book compilation of Edna St. Vincent Millay poetry you borrowed for the evening. “Alright, keep your shirts on, guys. I’ll only be reading three tonight, don’t get comfortable.”

You’re looking forward to a night of sleep that won’t involve shivering. Turns out the mattress was replaced too, and you are equally looking forward to not feeling springs stab into your back and sides.

---

You never give up, really. 

But by the time Week Nine in Happy Trails Penitentiary begins, you start to feel discouraged.

Not that anyone else really gets why. You’ve been perfectly happy organizing the new books and teaching the first few inmate volunteers the Dewey Decimal System so that they can locate and sort the books easier. All those years of trying to pay your way through University as the local librarian are really paying off now. Not that it didn’t pay off before. 

“Is it really so bad here?” Jimmy asks you in the yard one day. He’s smuggled bread rolls for the entire gang (which does include you now, you guess). “I mean, I know the hooch wine doesn’t do much for you, but we can always sneak the whiskey out of the warden’s office! Or Heap-Ass can get you some bourbon from the outside.”

“I appreciate the offer, Jimmy.” You swallow a bite of your roll before continuing. “But honestly, I...I can’t stay.”

“Why not?” Tiny insists. She’s clutching the copy of the Velveteen Rabbit to her chest. “Who’s going to run the library if you leave?”

“I can train you guys before I leave, or I can come back after I get out and help you set the rest up.” You scootch closer to Tiny. You would like to put your arm around her, but the last time you attempted physical comfort with her, she held a fork-shiv to your throat. “Look, I’m not going to just forget about you guys, okay? I’ve never had this many friends in my life. I plan on setting up a volunteer system here so I can come by whenever the hell I want.”

Tiny’s tentative smile fades into wide-eyed concern, suddenly, when she looks over your shoulder.

“Oh, sure youse will.” 

You spin around in surprise and, sure enough, there’s Yancy. Seriously, you might need to put a bell around his neck. 

“You think youse the first person to come in, get released, and never come back?” Yancy challenges. He saunters up to you not unlike a predatory cat. “Why don’t youse just admit that we’re not good enough for you?”

“What, just because I don’t want to sit in here while what little reputation I have with the public gets dragged through the mud?!” You toss your roll behind you as you approach Yancy and listen to some of the gang hurry to catch and call dibs on it. “While a killer goes free and strikes again to clean up loose ends? While my mom sits home alone, worried about me? She already went through losing my dad and my brother, do you think--”

“I told youse on Day One, Eagle,” Yancy snaps, “the past ain’t to be trifled with. If youse’s mum supposedly ‘cares’ about you so much, why’s she not visited? Some loving ma you’ve got there--”

“Because I told her not to, you idiot!”

Yancy freezes mid-accusatory finger point. “Youse--what?”

You look around and get close enough for no one else but Yancy to hear you. The two of you are already drawing eyes to your positions. “Do you think I want my mom to see me like this? She knows I could die in here, I know I could still die in here, and I don’t want her last memory of me to be one where I’m covered in blood and bruises and cuts, she already had to see me like that when I was in high school.”

“Every story I hear about youse’s life on the outside depresses the hell out of me, but that’s besides the point.” The anger in his voice is barely contained. “How about we talk about the fact that youse plan to leave the family here behind? What, youse didn’t like the cell renovations we made after your Nightly Poetry Reading?”

“Yes, I love the comfortable mattress and fur rug and the lamp and the non-itchy, non-bloodstained blankets that keep me warm at night, but Yancy, I can’t stay. Even if we catch the guy who put a hit out on me, who’s to say I won’t get a shiv in the back by someone who doesn’t want their parole? You think I don’t hear you telling other inmates about that little tactic? You’re not quiet at all about it!”

“I was hoping you’d get the hint, Eagle! We don’t want you to go! Do youse really think I’d let anyone kill you?”

“I don’t know what to think of you, Yancy!” you finally shout back. 

As soon as the words leave your lips you realize just how true they are. This man has both rescued you and killed for you and called you ridiculous names and comforted you and plotted the deaths of inmates and guards in front of you and it honestly has turned you in circles because despite all of that, despite your moral compass, you really like this complicated mess of a man. 

But this is not the time to unpack this increasingly weird relationship you have with him. “Yancy, can you really look me in the eye and promise that I won’t get killed in here?”

Yancy’s mouth opens and closes several times before eventually he shoves you away from him, as if that’ll distract you from the hurt in his eyes. “I shoulda guessed that the Legal Eagle would get too high and mighty for us jailbirds!”

“Yancy--”

“Youse just like my dad! Standing there and judging me like youse think you know better, like youse so much better than me just because youse’s hands are clean?!” He puts his fists up. “Why don’t you get them dirty for once?”

Oh, this bastard. He’s going to make you do it, isn’t he? He’s really going to make you fight him. You put your arms on your hips. “Yancy, stop, you’re being ridiculous--”

He aims a punch at your face and you block it on instinct. You repeat his name but he just tries to hit you again, so that time you block his fist and manage to land a blow to his abdomen.

Fine. Let’s do this.

Yancy may be a rather talented inmate scrapper with a great right hook (you learn a moment later as your eye pulses in pain) but you’ve also boxed three times a week for half your life (because you needed some kind of extracurricular outlet to deal with the frustration of being a non-white academic overachiever) and have learned how to defend yourself pretty damn well.

By the time the fight gets anywhere, your eye is blackening and blood is running from your nose, while Yancy’s sporting several cuts on his face and a split lip. You manage to land several hits in a row before knocking Yancy back in a daze.

“Stand. Down,” you order in a growling tone. 

It’s the first and only time you have given anyone here a real command, and you are certainly in no mood for anyone to test the raging anger and frustration lashing underneath your skin just because this idiot that you can’t get out of your head doesn’t know how to talk about his issues like a healthy human being.

(The more rational part of your mind is willing to acknowledge that judging by the rumors about his childhood, there are reasons behind his inability to deal with people in a different capacity, but the rational part of your mind is currently tied up and locked in a trunk until further notice.)

Yancy stares back at you, blood dripping from his lip and staining his shirt. The fury is still brimming in his eyes, but you think you can catch a glimmer of reluctant respect and something else. Something...sad.

But you’re no longer in any mood to read into Yancy’s odd, conflicting behavior. It’s a miracle that none of the guards came to break the two of you apart. You have no intention of pushing your luck.

You push through the crowd that had gathered to watch this unprecedented event and leave the yard, praying that people think the tears running down your face are from your injuries.

---

Link to Chapter 5 here!

Thank you for reading! Please relbog/comment! If you want to be tagged/untagged for the rest of this series or this pairing, please leave a message in my inbox!

@starcrossedforever87 , @dontworryaboutanything , @beereblogsstuff , @falseroar , @intemperantiae , @memetoyoko , @soul-wolf , @marki-dumb , @withjust-a-bite , @raimeyl , @scribbeetle , @its-dari , @neverisadork , @silver-owl413 , @sassy-in-glasses , @chelseareferenced , @sketchy-scribs-n-doods , @axolittle-boi , @wildfandom , @shrinkthisviolet , @purple-anxiety-blog , @conceitedink , @skidspace

#kat writes #ahwm yancy #ahwm #y/n district attorney #wkm #a heist with markiplier #who killed markiplier #emotionally charged fistfights are a weakness of mine #also because it's me #next chapter makes everything fifty times worse

[missdaviswrites]

Fic Writer Intro--MissDavis

I just got back from @ficwritersretreat2019, where we talked about ways to support and promote other fic writers. One idea was to write introductory posts for ourselves, then reblog each others’ posts to spread the word to all our followers. Below I have tagged the other writers who went to this year’s retreat, but even if you’ve never been, feel free to introduce yourself and your own writing. If you tag me, I'll reblog your post, too! 

I’m MissDavis and I've been writing BBC Sherlock fic since shortly after s3. Most of my work is Johnlock with some occasional Johnlockary thrown in for good measure. Here’s the link to all of my writing. If you’re looking for something specific, here’s a breakdown by ship and length, along with summaries from AO3:

Johnlock:

Long fics (50-100+K):

Breakable rated E After John is seriously injured, Sherlock struggles to figure out how to help him, keep himself sane, and maybe, just maybe, get their life back to the way it’s supposed to be. Part 1 of the Breakable Not Broken series.

Full Court Press  rated E College basketball AU: Sherlock is the team’s best shooter. John is the team’s best ball-handler.

Side Effects rated E WIP, currently 10/17 chapters now complete! Sequel to Breakable. Life is a lot better for Sherlock and John than it was a year ago. Yes, John still can't walk and Sherlock is still on antidepressants, but they're married now, and almost everything else is back to their version of normal. They have a dog. Sherlock's solving cases again. But when Moriarty learns of their marriage, he escapes from prison and takes it upon himself to make their lives miserable. Is Sherlock really up to the challenge of catching a criminal whose only goal is to make sure that he and John don't live happily ever after?

Mid-length fics (10-35K):

Chaperones  rated T "You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie’s class and you won’t have to share a room with a stranger?“

Christmas With You rated T Watch Sherlock, John and Rosie over the years as they celebrate the season as only they can.

Welcome Christmas  rated T Join John and Sherlock at Baker Street as they celebrate Rosie's first Christmas and beyond. From Rosie crawling around the flat as they tiptoe around each other en route to their first kiss, to a happy retirement with a young grandson who wants to be just like Grandad and Papa, this fic shows how Sherlock and John celebrate Christmas together through the years.

Breaking Christmas rated M Join me in some established relationship Johnlock as I attempt to make Sherlock and John participate in some Seasonal Fucking Cheer. Ficlets that are part of the Breakable Not Broken series.

So This Is Christmas rated T Sherlock, John and Rosie celebrate the Christmas season with the rest of their family. It's not always perfect, but they all do their best. Most of the time. AKA the Christmas ficlets that include Eurus.

Clutter-Free rated E 5 times John made Sherlock clean up the flat and one time he didn’t have to.

Short fics (2K-9K):

The Librarians of Baker Street  rated E Sherlock is a cataloguer who's forced to work the reference desk once a week. Which he hates. Or at least, he used to hate it, until the library hired a new reference librarian. Guess who?

Just a Touch rated E John has trouble falling asleep these days. There’s one thing he can do that always seems to help, but he’s stuck in this hotel room with Sherlock and doesn’t think he’ll get the chance. How will he ever find relief and a good night’s sleep?

If You Lead Me rated M Enough time has passed since Mary’s death that John is finally ready to start a new relationship. With Sherlock, he hopes. But given Sherlock’s stated aversion to romantic entanglements, John is a bit worried about being rejected, and doesn’t know how to proceed. Fortunately, there’s someone who can help him along.

Sherlock Is Actually a Cat Person rated E John brings home a kitten. Sherlock is not okay with it.

The Last Time Alone rated E But it wasn’t enough, not for John. He needed more. He needed someone to hold besides a child, and someone to kiss on the lips and not just the top of the head. He needed sly looks across the dinner table and to know if he put Rosie to bed early he might emerge from her room to find a candle lit and dessert served just for two.

The One Where No One Proposes rated G Sherlock inherits his parents’ wedding rings. It’s ridiculous that they mean something to him. He doesn’t plan to do anything with them. Sentiment.

Equal Footing  rated E Sherlock had certainly never shown any interest in women’s footwear, or in seeing John appear as anything but fully male. But five extra inches—that opened up all sorts of interesting possibilities.

Very short fics (under 2K):

Dirty Laundry rated E If they got far enough along, John knew he would stop noticing the steady clanking thump of the washer, but so far he’d been unable to keep himself from being distracted.

A Boyfriend in Need rated G John's in medical school now, but it's Sherlock who's taking care of him today. A sequel to Full Court Press.

Rosie and the Rainbows rated M Sherlock isn’t exactly opposed to Rosie joining the Girl Guides, but he doesn’t really see the appeal, either. It ends up being much worse than he imagined.

To a Better Year than Last rated G After the life-altering events of the last twelve months, John is more than ready for the new year to begin. Short sequel to Breakable, from John's POV.

Training  rated G Sherlock had terrible running form; they would have to work on that later. For now, John just ran, happy that for once Sherlock was the one chasing after him.

Honey Bee rated G Rosie gets stung by a bee. It’s not a big deal, except that it is.

He Sees You When You're Sleeping rated T Sherlock and John return to the Holmes’ family home for Christmas to find that Mummy has redecorated.

Wrong Disc rated G Two years later and DVDs that Mary made before she died are still showing up every now and then. Thankfully.

The Cute One  rated G "This post says that whenever there are three people, there must be one who's the clever one, one who's the cool one, and one who's the cute one.” Rosie looked from John to Sherlock and back again. “So which of us is which?”

Better  rated G Sometimes the world just calls for a bit of comfort. A 221B ficlet.

Let's Go on a Family Holiday (& Then Not Leave the Room) rated T Sherlock looked up, noting that John’s bare chest lacked the glossy sheen of suncream that he had been anticipating. A 221B ficlet

Johnlockary

Could Be Fun 36K words, rated E This is the first fic I started writing when I got into the Sherlock fandom. John, Sherlock and Mary embark on a new stage of their relationship. Nine chapters of smut and snark, canon-compliant through series 3.

The Life We Choose 16K words, rated M Based on the "30 Days of Sherlock Challenge,” a series of ficlets from the points of view of Sherlock, John, Mary, and, of course, Alice Watson: I have three parents. Some of my friends have three, too, or even four, but none of them has three who all live together, which makes me the luckiest out of all my friends.

Imagine the Christmas Dinners 15K words, rated M A series of Christmas-themed ficlets, featuring Sherlock, John and Mary over the years, with appearances by Baby Watson, Mummy Holmes, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade.

Better Off Together 9K words, WIP, now complete at 16K! Rated M What if everyone lived happily ever after? Yes, I’m still writing this, maybe 1 or 2 chapters left to go!

An Afternoon Interruption 7K words, rated E Still the only John/Sherlock/Mary/Sally fic on AO3!

The Clothes You Once Wore  4K words, rated E Mary took a deep breath and conceded to herself that maybe she did want to put on the assassin outfit and tie him to the bed and have her way with him. Maybe Sherlock had just known it before she did. Possibly my favorite short fic I’ve written.

Got You Pegged 2K words, rated E Sherlock could think of six different ways they could make it fit using common household items he had in the flat, but he didn’t think he could wait that long.

The Space Between 2K words, rated E This one is really more Johnlock than Johnlockary. Written as part of the Come At Once 24-hour porn challenge.

Safe Not Sound   2K words, rated E "Oh, come on. I'm willing to put up with all this 'gun safety' nonsense you and John are insisting on, the least you could do is give me what I want in return."

Brand New Day 1500 words, rated T Breakfast, babies, and three people trying to do their best.

While You Were Sleeping  1K words, rated E “We—” Mary started and Sherlock pressed his fingers a bit harder against her leg. She inhaled. “He’ll wake up.”

Storage Space  695 words, rated M Sherlock has his own space at John and Mary’s house now. The first fic I ever posted!

Bed rated T It’s a bit tight, but they all fit. A 221B ficlet.

Other Ships or Ship-free

All We Have  5K words, rated T, Gen. My angsty, pre-series 4 interpretation of what might have happened to a third Holmes brother.

One Night, Twenty Weeks 4K words, rated E, Mary/Molly. Mary has a problem. Molly helps her out.

Actually, the Baby Sits on You 3K words, rated G, Gen. Sherlock watches the Watsons’ baby for the first time.

Tea for Three 2K words, rated E, Mrs. Hudson/Mrs. Holmes/Mr. Holmes. Mrs. Hudson had been with many men over the years—older, younger, single, divorced, married and seeing her on the side either secretly or openly—but this was the first time she had ever been with a man while his wife lay right beside them.

Tiny Little Pieces 1594 words, rated G, John/Mary. They watched to the end of the DVD; Sherlock smiled and winked at them and John flicked off the screen again. “So. That’s Sherlock.” He gave her a smile that was even more forced than the one Sherlock had just displayed. “It’s funny. I’d almost forgotten what he sounded like.”

Not in the Job Description 1,505 words, rated E, Sherlock/Sally. The case has Sherlock stumped, and John’s not around to help him focus. Someone has to step up and help him clear his mind.

Once He Is Gone 1K words, rated T, Gen. John is fine at Sherlock’s funeral. Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s been to funerals for so many of his friends. Why would Sherlock’s be any different?

When Mary Met Sally 766 words, rated G, Gen. Sally stops by Baker Street with a case but finds out that Sherlock isn’t home.

Kick  Gen, rated G. Mary is pregnant, John’s not speaking to her, and Sherlock’s still in hospital. A 221B ficlet.

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

Tagging: @hubblegleeflower @pipmer @pippn-frodo @totallysilvergirl @daringlydomestic @prettyrealisticjohnlockfanart @cumberqueer @addictedstilltheaddict @disaronnus @weneedtotalkaboutsherlock @quantum-sparrow @blogstandbygo @amindamazed @fearlessdiva930 @onwallsiwrite

and tagging *anyone* else who wants to share--really, feel free to promote your fic!

#fic writer intro #sherlock fic #johnlock #johnlockary #my fic

[littlehollyleaf]

(I had a really long, detailed version of this....... but Tumblr ate it D’: so this is... heavily abridged, sorry!)

Tagged by the ever lovely @castiel-saved-me-from-myself​ <3

pick 10 ships without reading the questions

Interesting... ok!

1. Dean/Cas (obviously)

2. Aziraphale/Crowley

3. Nygmobblepot

4. Foxma

5. Babitha

6. Amy/Rory

7. Nomi/Amanita

8. Eve/Flynn

9. Catradora

10. Cosima/Delphine

1. Do you remember the episode/scene/chapter that you first started shipping 6?

I think I started shipping Amy/Rory during the Venice fish monster ep - cos that was when I felt Amy really did love him back and they had a future together. Before I suspected that her running away with the Doctor was a sign she and Rory weren’t right for each other.

2. Have you ever read a FanFiction about 2?

Only read a handful of Ineffable fic. Overall I’m perfectly happy with the canon alone.

3. Has a picture of 4 ever been your screen saver/profile picture/tumblr?

Yes I’ve had Foxma themed phone backgrounds and a tumblr header :)

4. If 7 were to suddenly break-up today, what would your reaction be?

Disbelief and disapproval. Nomi and Amanita were one of the great constants of Sense8 for me. I think a break up would be out of character for them tbh. Plus it would be denying the black and trans characters a rare example of a happy ending, which would suck.

5. Why is 1 so important?

I wrote such a detailed thing about how DeanCas is not only important to me personally but also how I feel it’s been important for TV/media in general... ugh, tumblr!

In a nutshell - this ship helped me better myself in various ways. It introduced me to fandom,  which boosted my confidence and independence via increased socialisation; it encouraged me to write more, which improved my writing skills; meta discussions educated me on lots of issues, inc. but not limited to abuse, sexuality, gender identit, autism and racism.

I also genuinely believe that the loud and open fandom support of the ship has been a significant help in the ongoing battle for more and better queer rep in media.

6. Is 9 a funny ship or a serious ship?

Serious! Catra and Adora’s relationship is a core part of the whole show, relating to lots of the wider themes of abuse, toxic behaviour, growth and forgiveness. Plus the significance of a same sex romance involving the lead character in a CHILDREN’S CARTOON really cannot be overstated.

(but it is also cute and funny sometimes :p)

7. Out of all of the ships listed, which ship has the most chemistry?

I’ve spoken before about having issues with the concept of ‘chemistry.’ If I ship characters it’s usually because I find the combination of their characterisation and story arcs interesting/compelling. I often don’t notice (or I guess care about?) chemistry.

So I think I’m not qualified to answer this one.

8. Out of all of your ships listed, which ship has the strongest bond?

Agreeing with @castiel-saved-me-from-myself​ here - you can’t really beat the Ineffables millenia long romance :)

9. How many times have you read/watched 8’s fandom?

I’ve rewatched The Librarians 2 or 3 times now. It’s DAFT. But it’s fun. And Eve and Flynn make me feel warm and fuzzy.

10. Which ship has lasted the longest?

Again, as @castiel-saved-me-from-myself​ said - it’s gotta be the Ineffables, both within AND outside of the story, since Good Omens was originally published over 30 years ago and the Zira/Crowley shippers have been going strong all that time. Otherwise it’s DeanCas.

(though idk if Catradora was a ship back when the original She Ra cartoon was airing, or when the original cartoon was made, so it’s possible that is also a contender!)

11. How many times, if ever, has 2 broken up?

Lol at @castiel-saved-me-from-myself​ for getting Nygmob for this one, as their relationship is, like, 90% break up :P

For the Ineffables though it’s basically just the once - when Zira chooses Heaven over Crowley. Not made such a Big Deal in the book IIRC, but in the show it’s the infamous Bandstand Break Up scene.

All other separations are only minor, temporary squabbles imo. Which is what makes the Bandstand scene so PAINFULLY, BEAUTIFULLY, ANGSTY AND EMOTIONAL and why I love it so! 

12. If the world was suddenly thrust into a zombie apocalypse, which ship would make it out alive, 2 or 8?

I figure angels and demons probably can’t be killed by zombies, so the Ineffables are the most likely.

But Eve and Flynn did actually face off against zombie-ghost things in an alt universe during a whole Loom of Fate plot and survived, so I think they’d probably also make it.

13. Did 5 ever have to hide their relationship for any reason?

No, Babs and Tabs were always open about being together, even when Tabs was also in a relationship with Butch.

I might argue they hid the depth of their feelings for each other though, even from themselves, and instead made out what they had together was just a casual ‘friends with benefits’ type thing.

Though Tabs did hide things a little when she sent assassins after Jim cos she blamed him for putting Babs in a coma. She clearly knew her brother would disappprove, which is why she didn’t tell him what she was doing. I guess that kinda counts as hiding her relationship with Babs? She was trying to conceal how much Babs mattered to her?

14. Is 4 still together?

Lol, Foxma were never together (ALAS!). But the show did end with their lingering fondness for each other intact I think.

15. Is 3 canon?

Is Nygmobblepot canon? Rather a touchy question for the fandom tbh.

If we are talking EXPLICIT canon - then no. 

They never got a kiss or a MUTUAL love declaration (and they had a controversial ‘we’re brothers’ exchange in the penultimate episode) - ergo there is not enough, imo, to say they ended the show officially romantically involved.

However, Ozzie DID EXPLICITLY DECLARE HIS ROMANTIC LOVE for Ed, and that was never rescinded. There is also LOTS OF SUBTEXT floating around Ed to imply he reciprocates. Plus they did end the show together as clear Partners in Crime.

So is Nygmob subtextual canon?

I would say yes.

But explicit, CANON canon?

A frustrating no that fandom remains, understandably, critical about.

16. If all 10 ships were put into a couple’s Hunger Games, which couple would win?

I think a toss up between Nygmob and Babitha - because everyone else has too many morals that would hold them back from killing :p

(and since Ed and Oz have both bested Babs and Tabs in the past I lean towards them... but it would depend on when in Gotham canon the games were happening!)

17. Has anybody ever tried to sabotage 10’s ship?

Breaking up Cosima and Delphine was a LITERAL PLOT POINT of Orphan Black at one point, so very much yes! I forget the details (the show got very twisty, with lots of different organisations working on different agendas in the shadows), but I’m pretty sure Delphine was shot because she was protecting Cosima. I remember it BROKE MY HEART and I thought it was a casebook example of Bury Your Gays. But, spoiler: it wasn’t ;)

18. Which ship would you defend to the death and beyond?

Going with DeanCas, because I think that, historically, it’s the one that’s been in most need of defending.

19. Do you spend hours a day going through 1’s tumblr page?

Not anymore I’m afraid. Though 3 or so years ago I used to spend most of my free time on DeanCas and spn meta. Ah, nostalgia.

20. If an evil witch descended from the sky and told you that you had to pick one of the ten ships to break up forever or else she´d break them all forever, which ship would you sink?

Foxma. Because while I adore the idea of a messy, confused ~something between them, in my heart I know that Foxy deserves better :P

I was too tired to bother with tagging the first time I completed this - DEF not gonna bother now!

Play if you want - it’s fun :D

#a true but boring story #about me

[ramblinganthropologist]

Writober 2020  7 - Tower

Summary: It’s moving day for the Inquisition’s head librarian. Luckily, she has help getting the books out. It’s a big thing, moving to the tower… and not just because of the distance. Trevy’s not sure if she’s ready, but what are friends for anyway but to help you move?

(Takes place six months after the last one, definitely post Haven boom.)

—

She was going to miss this room.

“Trevy, you ready?”

Jackel’s voice called from behind the door. Trevy turned, a box in her arms weighed down with her possessions. There was one more like it, a small one, waiting on the bare bed at the heart of the room. That one would be light enough hopefully.

Moving day was always so stressful, especially when her new room was … well, suggested would be putting it mildly.

“Yeah, I just need to get my flower!”

The tiny window above her bed that always let in cold air was the perfect place for the room’s other sole occupant, a tiny potted flower that was starting to bloom. She had found it the day after tranquility had broken – it was the first thing that had made her stop crying long enough to dry her eyes. So it was coming with her, no matter what. It had been a comfort, here in the space she had found herself in.

If she was being nice, it was cozy. Honest… well, somehow they had gotten a too-small bed and a tiny chest into what was pretty much an old closet. Trevy hadn’t minded it – it had helped her feel more secure in the first couple weeks after Haven. If they had left here there permanently, it wouldn’t have bothered her at all.

Problem was, it bothered Jackel. And Jackel had a way of getting what she wanted.

“Is this all you have?” The elf was careful to open her door and peer around. “Damn, I brought too much muscle.”

Trevy cocked her eyebrow as she looked her friend over. “What do you-”

A pair of gray hands with black painted nails soon took the box from her arms, then removed the one by the floor. They belonged to Jackel’s cousin Akri, who definitely could not fit inside the small space if he straightened up. His horns were practically brushing the top bent over. The poor man practically had to crawl out.

Just looking at him made her back ache, and that was saying something.

“You got everything, Trevy?” Akri had no problem with the boxes. “Don’t want to be coming back in here, you’d fucking smack your head on the door and die.”

Trevy responded by picking up the flower on her small windowsill and held it close to her body like it was a stuffed bear. Once that was gone, the room was empty of everything she had put into it. Now it was just a sad closet someone had shoved a bed into.

Hopefully whoever was next in there was smaller than 6 feet tall…

“I have everything.” She paused, feeling her emotions start to want to leak. They were getting easier to control, but she still felt them. Tears budded at the corners of her eyes, but she willed them back. “Thank you for helping me.”

Jackel was on her shoulders as they entered the library proper. Here, the smell of books and the sound of flipping pages filled the air. Something about it always made her heart beat a little slower, as if she was sinking into a hot bath. Libraries always had calmed her down, even before the brand.

“You needed to move anyway, it’s bullshit they shoved the head librarian into a closet.”

Trevy felt her cheeks heat up as she hugged her flower friend. “That’s a new title, though…”

The ink probably wasn’t even dry yet on the promotion sitting in Josephine’s office. It was part of her moving, but apparently it had been in the works for some time. Nobody knew the library better than her, and that was without her Tranquil memory. When it came down to it, she liked books and liked them in their place.

Besides… the last one shelved them wrong. She hated that.

“Still yours. It looks pretty shitty if Kaas has his head librarian in a fucking closet.” Akri adjusted the boxes. “Where we heading anyway, one of the ramparts?”

Jackel’s voice sounded from above Trevy’s head as they walked. “Nope, in the tower. They just cleared out a nice room luckily enough.”

Somewhere among the veiled insinuation of what her friend had done to help her move, Trevy felt her heart stop. Her mind went numb, then the words sank in. The tower; the tower where the Inquisition’s mages lived and worked. Akri had a room there, as did her cousin Ian. She had seen Dorian coming from there too when he wasn’t hanging out with his boyfriend.

She was going there?

“Makes sense, guess they’re used to keeping all the mages together.” Akri cast a glance over his shoulder towards her – his eyes were hard to read. “Hey, you’re slowing down there. You didn’t hurt yourself shelving books did you, Trevy?”

The former Tranquil felt the tears bead at her eyes, but there was no way to stop them. So she employed her second method – wiping them on her sleeve. More followed, and then she felt her chest heave. It wanted to make her sob. That was kind of embarrassing in the middle of the walkway, though. At least she could control that.

It was a work in progress, clearly.

“I-I’m fine!” she managed to choke out in case anyone was worried. “J-just… you know. Reacting is all.”

They had told her she would always feel things stronger than others and be more likely to cry as a result of the brand being both applied and removed. The tattoo on her shoulder helped somewhat, but there was always going to be the chance she’d just start sobbing. It was just part of her now, like the burn on her forehead she hid away behind the headband.

It was still kind of humiliating, though. Her brain still worked well enough to tell her that.

“Hey, you’re doing it less though.” Jackel’s ass on her shoulder did wonders for a grounding method, as did her voice. “Now, we going or what? You never know who they’re going to try to move in. They’re like hermit crabs or something…”

Trevy giggled as she finished mopping off her eyes. Her sleeve was pretty soaked, but it would dry. It always did eventually. Now that she thought of it, it was staying dryer more these days than ever before. Perhaps that was a sign of progress.

Once the crying had passed, they were back en route. Before long, they were entering the tower and beginning the climb up the stairs. Her brain kicked into overdrive as it began to memorize the route. One floor became two, and then a third. They eventually stopped at the fourth door, one she knew very well.

A grinning skull opened the door for her. “Welcome home, Aery.”

Ian was looking pretty good. He had put weight back on, enough that he didn’t actually look like a skeleton with skin slapped on. Now it was just the paint that carried the effect for him. He had his sleeves rolled up, probably to help with the move. Seeing his eyes glitter like that brought a smile to her face as she nodded and walked through.

She could smell the herbs from someone’s study, and someone was scratching away at parchment towards the opposite side. They passed her cousin’s door, wide open and showing the mess inside. Had he just rolled out of bed?

“Nice, Trevelyan.”

“Shut up, Adaar. At least my smalls aren’t on the floor.”

“That was one time-”

Ian and Akri were ribbing each other gently as they walked. Something about it made her heart feel warm. Much to her surprise, however, they stopped at the door next to his. Here, the plate slid into place held a name she knew well: Aeronwen Trevelyan, Head Librarian.

“Here we are.” Jackel jumped from her shoulder to the floor with all her assassin’s grace. “Who has the key, or do I have to pick this damn thing open?”

Her cousin answered by pulling a key from his pocket. “Got it right here. Practically had to murder the last guy for it, but oh well. They’ll do better in the field anyway.”

Trevy briefly felt a pang of guilt as the key changed hands, but she knew there was nothing she could about it at this point. Jackel was sliding the key into the lock, then clicking it into place. With a shove, the door opened and she was staring into her new room.

Well… it was definitely not a closet.

Trevy walked in first, heading straight to the opposite side of the room. The window here was larger, and despite facing snow-covered mountains she didn’t feel the chill. Her little flower would be happy here – perhaps with a few friends. The windowsill was definitely large enough for at least one more pot if she was judging it right.

The rest of the room was bright. There was a magelight set into the wall above the desk that no doubt would provide safe light at night when she was reading. A similar one hung above her bed, smaller. She remembered ones like it from the Ostwick Circle – but that was a lifetime ago. Something about it made her heart ache, but at least she didn’t start crying. Instead, she sat down on her new bed to look around.

Yep, this was a bed that could fit her. No more sore knees. And she had a desk too, with a chair large enough that she wouldn’t feel cramped. She even had a proper dresser, with a mirror hanging above it and a small washbasin below. No more using the communal one in the library for her.

“Way better for the head librarian.” Jacks settled in next to her as Akri put both boxes on the floor. “So, do you like it? Because if not we can bully Ian for his.”

The mage in question scoffed dramatically. “As if you would need to bully me to help my favorite cousin!”

“She’s the only cousin you talk to, genius.” Akri rolled his eyes. “But yeah, we’ll totally kick his ass out if you want to swap. You’ve seen his room before, right?”

As Ian and Akri playfully argued about the merits of throwing his bony ass out on the stones, Trevy let it all sink in. Everything was changing so fast that it was hard to keep up those days. Her head was honestly spinning from it all. Overwhelming was putting it mildly – it was a miracle she was able to focus at all.

But the plant on her window helped. In a few days, it would bloom. Then she would have something pretty to look at. Thinking about that calmed her heart as she stretched and let herself fall back against the wall. It wasn’t the best move – her back cracked in such a way that all three of her guests turned to look at her.

Well… it had been a very small room in her defense, and she was a very tall woman…

“You uh… didn’t break anything, did you?” Ian’s eyes darted nervously to the door. “We got a healer-”

A giggle bloomed at Trevy’s lips as she closed her eyes. “I’m fine. And you don’t need to kick Ian out, Akri. This room is perfect for me.”

And it wasn’t just because she fit. They fit too. The space held the chance of having her friends over, of long nights bothering her cousin over various ideas. She was no doubt going to spend long hours at that desk. With her luck, she’d burn the magelight out at least twice.

It all sounded wonderful to her. No matter how frustrating or upsetting it got, at least she had this space to return to, and the plant on the window. That would be enough to get her through some of the rougher patches.

Though… actually unpacking and arranging it was another story. Would it be rude to ask for help in that matter?

Only one way to find out…

“Hey, guys? Can I ask for one more favor before you go?”

Judging by the looks on their faces when she opened her eyes, maybe it wasn’t so rude after all. Excellent… because she really didn’t want to put her books away alone. Without someone to help her, she’d be there all night.

What… she was a librarian. She was allowed to be particular.

#ramblinganthropologist's writing #Aeronwen Trevelyan #Ian Trevelyan #Akri Adaar #Jackel Lavellan #Kaas wanted to help but he had to be inquisitor