#she's locked into interactions for this verse only until further notice! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rosiethorns88 · 4 years

Text

Queen of Nothing Thoughts / Reflection on the Series

Many people are asking me, so I’m pooling them here. I’m not a writer or a reviewer, just a reader. :)

SPOILERS AHEAD:

First, an expectation summary:

- Overall, the book hit all of my high notes and succeeded in its story telling to me, personally. Holly has a pattern with climax building reflected in all three of her books that I really enjoy as a reader. There are shocking moments about two-thirds of the way in each book that feel like climaxes, but after the sudden burst and fall out, it slowly builds up again to another and greater peak. I find the early upsets and expanded conclusions of the final acts to be really satisfying to unfold, page by page. Cardan and Jude are two fascinating characters and the friction their personalities cause with one another make for some satisfying sparks. The whole cast of characters are colorful and the world building is rich, and I enjoyed the escapism the entire series brought to me with each visit.

- I was completely satisfied with the pacing, because it worked for the story at hand. Madoc was making his move and allies from all over Faerie were seeing Cardan’s control over his court wane in his wake. Both Jude and Cardan had to move and move fast to get themselves in a position of defense. In fact, the one act that I feared may have dragged on the longest, Jude’s ‘entrapment’ at the camp, actually moved forward quite quickly and kept my interest once Grimsen and the Ghost entered the mix. To spend time tying up every frayed thread with other non-player characters before the end would have lessened the urgency of story’s impending conflicts. Let’s get Jude and Cardan settled and to their honeymoon first before we chat about Nicasia’s love woes over tea.

- The Jurdan reunion was great, I love how it reflects the previous books with them having to first play act with each other again. Though I was hoping for it to last a bit longer with Cardan stringing Jude along in her disguise. I was really excited for Jude to play switch-a-roo as Taryn, but didn’t expect it to end so suddenly. It would have been a great call back to the circumstance of Cardan’s being tricked at the end of The Wicked King.

- The fact the Cardan was so involved with Jude’s runarounds: the rescue attempt from the palace, the actual rescue from the camp, his tag-alongs with her questing. It made all of their interactions very satisfying as it was expanding beyond the verbal throw-downs they only had before. I’ve seen many people complain there were not enough Jurdan scenes, but y’all. We barely had a breath of their interactions from the 1st and 2nd books compared to QoN. I was thoroughly pleased.

- The fact that Cardan indulges in Jude’s political nature and wears it proudly like a brooch when he’s addressing his court. He’s basically like, “I’m here to be my witty and sarcastic self; she’s here to be her just and vicious self. We complete each other.”

- CARDAN REUNITES WITH HIS DOOR! This was my favorite reunion scene as it was one of the many world building elements I enjoyed from the first book. Cardan’s playful and endearing greeting to his door at Hallow Hall was such a thought provoking element - I could only imagine as he grew up at the hall, he had little things or persons to befriend. And with the revelation of Cardan sneaking out human servants in the night, it makes sense he could get away with it with this unique friendship. I’m so glad this was a payoff.

- Madoc - I love Madoc. SO MUCH. He’s such a rich character, it’s so hard to call him morally grey when his character is so colorfully rich. Every chapter I either put an extra tick on his ‘I hate you so much’ or ‘I love you so much’ tally. He’s so true to his nature as a red cap, yet still so loving and caring for his family. He truly shows his hurt and conflict in his anger towards Jude after he finds she has betrayed or outwitted him. I reflect back to The Cruel Prince, when Jude was reminiscing how she and Madoc would play a board game of strategy (like chess) and have to interrupt it. All day, Jude would think about her possible moves and his possible moves, so when they returned to the game, the entire strategy had changed. This is how they interacted all through out the novel. Every thought and move was predicted, then challenged, then overturned before they could even meet face to face again. It’s amazing how there are no villains or heroes in this story; Jude and Madoc’s conflict were just an ever spinning tornado of their own morals and loyalties and ideals.

- Ghost & Taryn redeemed! I must admit, I was completely shaken by the Ghost’s betrayal in TWK, and did not expect him to be a redeemable character, though I did expect him to be involved somehow. I’m a little less satisfied with how quickly Taryn changed her spots back, especially with the build up from The Lost Sisters novella, and wish that Locke wasn’t killed off-screen. I can believe what she said happened, and that she was unhappy with the situation, but for it all to be delivered in one sitting as a monologue, it didn’t sink in for me for a while. I didn’t expect to have a redeeming arc for either of them, nor expect hints at their possible relationship, but it all fell into place nicely. At the end, I felt that the Ghost deserved to have his freedom, and that Taryn was appropriate to hold him to it.

- The Bomb and The Roach! I was happy for them to find their happily ever after, but Noooooo I didn’t want the Roach to be fridged! The Roach x The Bomb x Jude x Cardan interactions produce the best lines in the entire series and I was super sad to see the Roach exit so early. But from the little we received, it was a delight.

- Nicasia, Valerian (his curse), Locke - to me these three didn’t have the conclusions I was hoping for, but there may be open lore left to explore for Holly. I do understand why others insist that the last book be split into two and expanded upon, but the book was sharply focused on Jude and Cardan’s predicaments. Nicasia, Valerian and Locke all had unfinished stories and conflicts with both of them, but they were past issues that weren’t actively affecting the plot, and so I wasn’t troubled by their absence. But I’m hoping short stories or expanded lore in other Holly-verse novels may touch upon them.

- Vivi / Heather - This side plot got a little more attention than I expected, even though I didn’t appreciate the decisions both Vivi and Heather made (just as Jude didn’t). I was actually expecting Heather to take the route that she did, but just a little bit further than where she ended up. I love that she went completely Hermione on the group, but really wasn’t helpful in the end (which is ok). However, I think the true recourse for Heather’s involvement was intended solely for Vivi. By Heather experiencing Faerie a second time with the expectations of the terrors it offered, she was able to see other facets of the world Vivi has ties too, which is why she gave Vivi the second chance to reintroduce it to her in a better light.

- Oak / Oriana - I find Oriana such a delight as a character, but I don’t know why I always forget she exists until she appears on page. Which is appropriate, as she makes herself seen and be heard when she wants to. I love how helicopter parent she is with Jude even though she’s made it clear that she barely tolerates their familial ties. Still, her ability to parry Jude’s rebellious and un-lady-like behavior with her witty retorts gave us some of my favorite scenes from the previous books, and I enjoyed their brief reunion under the same circumstances at the camp. Oak, on the other hand I felt was underused as a character, and instead, justifiably used as a political object. Oak and Oriana’s relationship made for an interesting divisiveness between Team Madoc and Team Jude, that I think was an important factor, but ultimately Oak didn’t have much to do in decision makings in the QoN like he did in TCP. However, I feel this is because his character arc begins at the end of this novel with the new character ex-Queen Suren. And whether or not that story makes it onto a page, I can accept that his story was left open-ended to begin here.

Regarding Jude:

I think it’s important to highlight Jude’s development with her feelings toward Cardan - specifically with her reaction toward her exile. I wouldn’t say she’s an unreliable narrator, more so, she’s an unreliable romantic. Jude is the ‘DON’T Notice Me Senpai’ main character who throws red flags up for every action Cardan does.

A very popular theory about Cardan’s exile was that Jude would be able to pardon herself since she is part of the crown as queen. When that turned out to be true, I saw a lot of disappointment from readers with the obviousness of it - but that’s because it was obvious to ourselves, and it always has been. Cardan’s wordplay is a defining trait for his character and there have been several scenes where we the reader are completely in the know when he’s doing it and are charmed by it right along with Jude. During the exiling, Jude is not in the know and is blinded at first by her stupor as a newly wed and then later with her doubt in Cardan’s feelings for her as she flat out admits to herself that the crown pardon could be a loop hole.

This is what makes the rose garden scene such a great turning point - because they both realized they fooled each other without knowing it and are both distressed by each other’s reaction. Their trust in each other was becoming more brittle as it grew, until they realized they both could no longer play their old schemes against each other without risking that trust breaking.

All throughout, Jude has been judging and second guessing everything he does while she scrambles across this political chess board. Deny his feelings, manipulating her own feelings, pushing and pulling and advancing further to the top before her desire for power and her desire for Cardan meet at the peak. And here, between the possibility of losing the power she gained or condemning the feelings she found, is when she finally has to make that choice for herself, when she had viable reasons to go either way. With the way she struggled for both, she earned that right to choose.

Favorite moments / quotes:

- Cardan flinching at Jude’s indirect confession while she was disguised as Taryn - and Jude wholly unaware of the implications.

- Cardan relishing in his cleverness about the exile, while Jude is like WTF and they’re completely clueless about each other’s reaction until in the later rose garden scene. - Cardan’s ‘Jude, DON’T!’ - seriously, listen to the audiobook, you can hear the fear in his voice as his murder wife runs off to battle. And because we the readers can hear that fear, while Jude doesn’t, makes it more heart breaking.

- Madoc alluding to Jude (as Taryn) about Cardan’s berserk mode when he tried to prevent Jude’s capture at the palace. And of course, Jude denying it (psh)

- Cardan doing the grunt work in Jude’s camp rescue, and getting socked in the stomach for it - hah! And of course, The Roach preening he warned him.

- Cardan subconsciously protecting Jude from the arrow trap

- Jude scaring off a faerie guard with mortal menstruation.

- “Do not touch her. She is my wife.”

- How LONG have I waited for Cardan to finally witness how much Jude mutilates her body from her fights, and then for him care for her himself in his bed was just an extra mountain of whipped cream with sprinkles on top. (remember, she hid from him her hand stabbing, her self-poisoning, her leg injury from Locke’s attack, the details of Valerian’s attempt to murder her TWICE, the details of her torturous time in the undersea, etc. Let him know your WOES, woman! Y’all need to cash in some empathy points!)

- Jude having no choice but to wear Cardan’s clothes

- SLAP

- “Maybe he’d like to hear me scream.” exchange. And the hair touch!

- MY DOOR!

- The Ghost spider scrambling up the wall towards Cardan, and Taryn whiplashing him. Poor baby!

- Cardan intrigued by Slushies and Gummy Worms

- Cardan privately reprimanding Randalin about Jude and him scurrying out of the room in a panic. WHAT WAS SAID? CARDAN WAS SMILING.

- Freakin Cardan confessing and cutting her off at the door.

- Jude taking the time to panic, to mourn and to plan after the transformation. I felt giving too much haste toward a ‘Disney-true-love-spell-breaking ending’ would have ruined the direness of Cardan’s sacrifice.

- That fingers-digging-into-her-back hug.

- Tight pants, t-shirt and a Lopsided paper crown.

#queen of nothing #spoilers #queen of nothing spoilers #qon spoilers #qon #the queen of nothing #holly black #the folk of the air #cardan #tfota #jurdan

377 notes · View notes

red-butler · 4 years

Text

Kuro Ladies Appreciation Week - An

Our tragic Jack the Ripper has her turn to shine!

This fic could be set in the same verse as my other An/Grelle piece, exploring how they met and came to their agreement. This piece looks at a short interaction they shared about a year after their meeting.

Summery:

One year after the Phantomhive fire and An is musing over how much her life has changed; both for the better and for the worse. Contemplating this she comes to an uncomfortable realisation and makes a decision which has consequences she could never have forseen. Our tragic Jack the Ripper has her turn to shine!

tw: suicide mention/murder mention/thoughts on dissection/Victorian attitudes towards prostitition/execution mention

The setting sun was slanting through the French windows, lazily setting the library aflame with a deep glowing red light. A crackling fire, the quiet tick of a clock and the lazy turning of the occasional page were the only sounds intruding on An’s bliss. She lifted her gaze from watching the last of the sunlight sweep across the dark polished floor and caught the semi amused look of Grelle, still in their damnably decent butler uniform but sprawled across a chair in a positively decadent manner, leafing unhurriedly through a book of Shakespeare’s plays and watching An with languid interest.

“See something that interests you darling?”

An laughed, something that a mere year ago she would have thought was impossible. How much a life could change in a year, from being a happily married expectant mother with a wonderful family, to being alone in the world, to having an nephew who was hurting and broken, but was still there, who she could still love, if only from afar now and having this wonderful aching love filling her for the impossible woman currently smirking at her from across the room. A year ago she had been a doctor, dreaming of curing asthma for her sister and nephew, now she was a vigilante, punishing the worst criminals for their actions and cleansing the streets from their vile deeds.

“Simply thinking Grelle.”

“Oh? And what thought has got my lady so aflutter!” Grelle beamed, dropping the book to the floor and turning to face An more fully. “Can this humble butler assist her beautiful mistress in any capacity?”

“Grelle! You are far from that!”

“What? Humble? Well, when one is as magnificent as myself it can be hard to deny it...”

“No my dear. You are far from a butler. I believe one has to actually be good at their job to be considered that.”

“Rude!”

An laughed again, she couldn’t help it, Grelle just looked so indignant, as though she hadn’t been the one to trip down the stairs while carrying a tray of champagne glasses and managed to soak a very charming and handsome man An had been flirting with...actually on second thoughts that may have been deliberate.

“Well, to be honest I was thinking over how much my life has changed since I met you.”

“For the better I would hope.” Grelle’s sharp teeth flashed in a quick smile as she once again lifted her book, obviously deciding this conversation wasn’t going to lead to an opportunity for any interesting activities.

“Granted it would have been difficult for my life to get worse at that point, but yes, you’ve changed my life for better my love.”

The Reaper smiled again and buried herself back in her book, leaving An once again to her thoughts. The deep red sunlight had faded to night by now, gentle stars beginning to appear outside the window, the autumn air still warm enough for the windows to be left open this late.

Grelle had changed her life for better certainly, but now a new twisting fear was rising up within her. Life could change so swiftly and irrevocably. An would never be able to predict where her life would be in the future, not now knowing how little time it took for things to change to the point of unrecognisability. In another year's time, what would her life be like? Almost unwillingly she found her eyes flicking over towards where a discarded newspaper lay on a low table, the front page news discussing a murdered woman found in the East End. No suspects or clues had been found of course, but it was yet another uncomfortable reminder that her life was so precarious right now.

What would happen when-if she was caught? She was doing the right thing, An told herself firmly, she was doing a good thing and the whores who she killed deserved it for their immoral and cruel behaviour, but the world wouldn’t see it like that. She didn’t want to die. She had things to live for now, her work, Ciel, the joy of parties and the social life of London and most importantly her blood red Reaper. She wanted to live so she could spend the rest of her lifetime with Grelle! Even if Grelle couldn’t spend the rest of her life with An, being an immortal divine being, An didn’t begrudge her that, An would be content to spend a single human lifetime with her.

But if a single human lifetime was too short...what about a lifetime that ended after a few years of joy and love together? Would Grelle forget her quicker? An sighed, looking away from the woman who held her heart in beautifully manicured hands and tried to think of something else. She wanted to spend forever with Grelle, she would be content with spending a whole lifetime with Grelle, but she feared losing Grelle as quickly as she gained her if the police ever caught the Ripper. Not that they would, the police were practically incompetant it seemed!

But Ciel had begun taking an interest in the spate of murders. An was careful to limit her activities, to try and change up the times and locations, and Grelle of course was the best help one could have, able to get through locked doors and remove evidence An would never even have noticed. And yet...sometimes An woke up with the imaginary feel of a rough rope around her neck, with the certain knowledge she was going to die an ignominious painful death and then have her body thrown to the surgeons for dissection. Possibly those same surgeons she worked with. The idea of her own colleagues chopping her open, judging her...death as a criminal was awful.

The nervousness was twisting further through her chest now and An found herself rising to her feet and pacing over to the curtains. She pulled the windows shut, and tugged the curtains across; shutting out the night and the dangers it posed, the temptation to go out onto the streets and hunt, the deep seated terror of being caught and separated from her Grelle forever more, the quiet melancholy of loss countered by the heady excitement of everything she had gained. She shut it all out and looked around her warm, comfortable library, lit with firelight and with her beloved Grelle safe and well beside her.

“What’s wrong An?”

“Nothing, nothing…”

How could she admit her worries to Grelle? She couldn’t tell her that An was scared of dying, not to someone who had already passed on. She couldn’t say she was afraid that Grelle would forget her if they didn’t spend long enough together without insulting Grelle and suggesting that Grelle was flighty or irresponsible.

“It doesn't look like nothing, you’re pacing darling.” Grelle pointed out, not looking up from their book but clearly aware of An moving restlessly around the room, stopping to look in the fire, run her fingers along shelves of books, twitch back a curtain to look at the twilit sky…

“I’m simply…” An bit her lip and shook her head. “The newspaper story…”

“You’re still worrying about that? An love, I’ve told you I’ll keep you safe.”

“I’m not worried about the police, you’re far too brilliant for that-” An suppressed a sudden quick smile as Grelle practically preened at the compliment- “but if Ciel gets involved, he has resources available to him that the police don’t and if I do get caught-”

She cut off her words quickly, the fear back again and stronger than before, a tangled vine choking her, drawn as tight as a noose around her neck. Grelle was looking at her questioningly as An tried to bite back the words before they could spill out and ruin everything.

“I don’t want to be hanged.” She admitted, fixing her eyes on the books in front of her. Now that she’d admitted it the words felt easier, almost rushing out of her. “I don’t, I want to do the work, it’s important and necessary, to cleanse the streets; but I know the world will brand me a criminal if I’m ever caught and I’ll be sentenced to death...I don’t mind the death-” only half a lie that really - ”but I don’t want to be hanged, to be humiliated like that, to die as a common criminal, dispassionately-”

She cut off with a gasp as she felt arms wrap around her, relaxing into the reassuring hold of her lover. Grelle’s scent filled her senses as she turned to bury her face in the Reaper’s shoulder, eternally endlessly grateful that she had her, that Grelle was here and loved her and wasn’t going to leave her…

“I just want to be with you always Grelle.”

“Oh my love…” Grelle’s arms tightened around her and An basked in the attention and love from the glorious woman who had fallen into her life like a blazing comet of beauty and heady dangerous excitement. The two of them stayed like that, wrapped in one another’s arms and comforting the other. It wasn’t until evening had deepend into true night and the sounds of the city outside had faded to almost silence that they moved again. Grelle tilted her head to one side, her long hair brushing against An’s cheek.

“Is it the death you fear? Or the manner of death?”

“The manner of death.” An answered immediately. “The only regret I have about dying would be leaving you and Ciel.” Grelle hummed in response, seeming to think something over. When they next spoke their words were hesitant and quiet, as though they were desperately trying to not cause offense.

“If-if we ever do end up in a situation where it seems we cannot get out-” she started, “then...well if the manner of death is what scares you, I could make sure that you would never go to hang.”

It took An a moment to understand what Grelle was suggesting, that the Reaper would slay An herself rather than allowing her to be taken away as a criminal. Her initial reaction was hurt and rage, how could Grelle even think about killing her, didn’t she love An? How could you murder the person you loved! But that outrage vanished the moment An saw the genuine worry in Grelle’s eyes. This wasn’t the Reaper throwing aside a human accomplice who had failed her, this was Grelle offering An a way out that would give her an element of dignity, would save her the crushing shame of being branded a criminal and hanged in disgrace. So An twisted her fingers tighter into the back of Grelle’s butler uniform and considered the offer as objectively as she could.

Would it be better to die by Grelle’s hand than the noose? She would be dead either way but...the noose was so impersonal and cold. Grelle would kill her out of love, not disgust. She would die side by side with the woman she loved so dearly, without enduring the mockery and scorn of her peers. Put it like that and the answer seemed so obvious.

“Would it hurt?”

“For you? Never. As quick and easy as taking a breath.” Grelle promised, holding An even closer.

“Then yes. Grelle my love, my blood red ruby rose. Don’t you let them take me alive.” An said, a new note of fierceness in her voice. In response Grelle released her from the embrace and dropped to her knees in front of An, holding her hands and gazing up at the human in adoration.

“Yes my lady.”

#my writing #kuroshitsuji #black butler #kuroshitsuji ladies appreciation week #madame red #grelle sutcliff #grell sutcliff

18 notes · View notes

redladydeath · 4 years

Text

Anxiety is asleep, post Lust arc headcanons

Nylpho was the daughter of the leader of a decently sized “tribe” native to Asmodean. Her marriage to Ilotte was part of an effort to create closer ties between ethnic Asmodeans and the Beelzenian nobility.

At the time of their marriage, Nylpho was 18 and Ilotte was 29. Ilotte had chosen to put off marriage until he he became duke.

Nylpho was an incredibly sweet, affectionate person who also happened to be a bit flighty and overemotional. Ilotte was a textbook psychopath, with an external charm but inability to form meaningful relationships with people on an emotional level. Nylpho, due to her personality and eagerness to be a good wife, was the one exception in his life and, as a result, he put her up on a pedestal in his mind as the perfect woman.

Sati’s mom, Avelina, was a friend of Nylpho’s. She was prompted by her father and brother to become close with the Venomania’s as part of their plan to establish themselves among the Asmodean nobility, but her affection for Nylpho was genuine. Ilotte proposing to her relatively soon after Nylpho’s death was quite a shock, but she graciously accepted and enjoyed her time as duchess.

Witnis was married to Annlee and the couple had twins. Life was good for a few months until Irina passed through their village. She set a house on fire for fun and the fire soon spread to encompass the town. Witnis and Annlee got out, but the children were left inside. Annlee sent Witnis back in for them, but he hesitated at a crucial moment and part of the burning roof caved in on him, knocking him unconscious. The twins died in the fire and Annlee couldn’t forgive Witnis for failing to save her children, resulting in them eventually separating.

Ilotte hired Witnis as a guard on a whim while Nylpho was heavily pregnant. He was in a good mood and needed more security as Nylpho got closer to giving birth.

Nylpho went mad with guilt after Cherubim was born and was in somewhat of a daze leading up to her suicide. She visited the nursery to say goodbye and had a brief interaction with Witnis, who had been stationed to guard the room. Nylpho started to break down while she was talking to Cherubim, and Witnis, deciding to try and comfort her, ended up making what at the time seemed like a redundant promise to protect her son for her.

Ilotte flew into a rage after Nylpho’s body was returned to the mansion and it was determined there was nothing to be done. He tore off to the nursery and nearly stabbed Cherubim before he was blocked by Witnis, who, not wanting to watch another baby die, managed to convince him that Nylpho wouldn’t have wanted him to murder their child. The basement was Ilotte’s compromise; punish/utterly remove the child from his life while still not technically killing it (even if he half expected Cherubim to die from exposure regardless).

As a toddler, Cherubim had all the hallmarks of a feral child, and it was only because Witnis realized this and decided to disobey Ilotte’s orders to simply stand guard and not pay him any mind that this outcome was avoided. Cherubim was still delayed and stunted when it came to speech/emotional/etc. development, but he did at least grow to be somewhat functional.

Cherubim hated most things about himself, but as a teenager/young adult he became particularly insecure about his stunted physical development. He was very small and skinny and a result of chronic malnutrition and most people, assuming he was much younger than he actually was, treated him as if he were a child. This resentment was aggravated by the fact that Cherubim did not fully understand concepts like masculinity and sexuality and therefore couldn’t articulate, even to himself, why he felt so insecure about such things to begin with.

It cannot be overstated how dramatically Cherubim’s upbringing affected his personal development. He only had a rudimentary understanding of many basic concepts and never reached a level of emotional maturity higher than that of a child. Even as Duke Venomania, many people were shocked by how little he understood many things, although by that point he had reached a level of confidence where people could write off his ignorance as a personality quirk rather than assuming he was “affected” as had frequently happened in his previous life.

Cherubim was incredibly clingy, both physically and emotionally; a trait that persisted even after the contract. While he was unaccustomed to positive physical contact, he desperately craved it. In the sin swap AU, when given license by Gumina, he basically never let stopped touching her and Sati, always wanting to be close to them and panicking when they had to separate, much to Sati’s discomfort. (basically, if he wasn’t afraid you were going to hit him, personal space didn’t exist for Cherubim)

The Venomania boys were basically the only people Gumina felt safe to let her walls down around. To everyone else she was cold and haughty, but with the brothers she was bright and fun loving. Sati’s betrayal and the eventual realization that Cherubim was Duke Venomania caused her to retreat progressively further into herself until she eventually reached a breaking point.

Although he never fully acknowledged it, Sati was rather traumatized by finding out about Cherubim’s existence. Up until that point he had thought of his father as this perfect, rational force in his life, and discovering that he had the capacity to treat one of his own children so horrifically shook him to his core. From that point onward, there was always a small, private fear in his mind that, if he crossed his father one to many times, he would punish him in just as terrible a way as he punished Cherubim. Of course, this never came to pass, but it did inform Sati’s lack of conviction when it came to helping Cherubim in any substantial way after getting him released from the basement.

Cherubim and Sateriasis did not look as though they were siblings, although if you took the time to look closely, you could notice some striking similarities. Cherubim was small and starved-looking, while Sateriasis was tall and athletically built; Cherubim inherited his mother’s curly hair, which he wore short, while Sati’s was long and pin-straight; Sati’s skin was a few shades lighter than Cheri’s, and Cheri had his mother’s abnormal luminous green eyes while Sati’s were a normal, handsome shade of brown (purple and blue in the main verse). However, they both inherited the same hooked nose and front tooth gap from their father, although Sati eventually got his gap fixed on a visit to Beelzenia (this was rather heartbreaking for Cherubim since it was one of the few traits they actually had in common).

Cherubim would not have been nearly as unnerving upon first glance were it not for the physical abuse he endured. The chronic malnutrition left him bony and hollow-looking; as a child, he had sustained an infection in his eye that left it milky white and blind; the facial deformity was not merely cosmetic and actually grew/worsened, resulting in the surrounding skin becoming purple-ish and veiny; and the various physical injuries he sustained from the other servants, local bullies, etc. left him constantly cut and bruised, with some wounds turning into lasting, jagged scars.

Gumina’s mother died when she was very young. On this level, she could somewhat relate to Cherubim, both having never known their mothers.

Cherubim was very taken with the flowers in the mansion’s garden, although he didn’t often get a chance to work with them.

AU where Cherubim never acquires language. Witnis, Sateriasis, and Gumina construct an informal sign language system with him, but hardly any of the other servants care to learn it. As the majority of them are also illiterate, Cherubim feels even more trapped as he literally cannot get anyone to pay any mind to what he has to say. During the big breakdown day, Sateriasis and Gumina both refused to pay attention to what he was trying to sign at them, and, after the stab, the reason Venomania couldn’t call out to Gumina is that he has once again lost the ability to communicate verbally.

Although he never told him, Witnis really did love Cherubim as a son and was constantly eaten at by guilt both before and after their separation in regards to him not doing more to take care of Cherubim or not being brave enough to take him and flee the mansion.

Ilotte was the first person to die in the Venomania massacre. After the engagement party concluded, Ilotte, having seen Cherubim and Gumina’s confrontation, went off to find Cherubim, who had run off after Gumina’s rejection and hadn’t been seen since. He found him curled up in the corner of a corridor and proceeded to tell him how disgusted he was by his audacity to speak to Gumina in public and his ungratefulness to both he and Sateriasis for their generosity to him, even indicating that he was going to lock him back in the basement as punishment. At that moment, Cherubim pulled a knife that he had taken from the kitchens earlier that day and, in a fit of rage, grief, and desperation, stabbed his father directly in the heart. Cherubim was in such a dissociative state afterwards that the killing might have stopped there had another servant not come in to investigate the noise.

Sateriasis was the last person to die in the massacre. He slept through the majority of it before being awoken by a scream and discovering that dozens of servants had been murdered. He shrieked and ran for help before running into Cherubim, who he did not immediately recognize as the murderer. However, that realization came fast and soon a chase began. Sateriasis made it all the way to the foyer before Cherubim, incensed by the idea of Sateriasis of all people getting away, lunged at him, tackling him down the staircase. On the way down, Sati cracked his head against one of the stairs and died only a few moments after reaching the bottom. Cherubim, seeing his brother rapidly slipping away, seized his knife and stabbed him, although he was just too late. Livid that the opportunity to exact revenge on Sateriasis had been taken from him, Cherubim began stabbing and mutilating the body in an absolute frenzy before gradually coming to his senses, realizing just what exactly he had done.

Avelina was very conflicted in regards to what should be done about Cherubim when she discovered he existed. Thanks to Sati’s insistence that he was, in fact, his brother, coupled with the distinctive green eyes Cherubim had inherited for Nylpho, Avelina very quickly put together that he was Nylpho’s lost son. She was absolutely horrified and demanded that Ilotte free him from his confinement. However, after Sateriasis and Cherubim were sent out of the room, Ilotte managed to convince her that, if Cherubim’s true identity was discovered, it would endanger Sateriasis’ claim to the dukedom and therefore he could not be allowed to go free. Avelina still could not allow Nylpho’s son to be sent back to the dungeons though, so the two of them eventually came to the agreement that Cherubim would work in the mansion as a servant. Sati was incensed by this plan as the whole reason he had revealed his knowledge about Cherubim was in hopes of getting him recognized as his brother, but Ilotte would not relent on the matter, and Cherubim, not fully comprehending the difference between the two options, did not try to fight it. Avelina always endeavored to treat Cherubim with kindness/understanding, but could never quite get past just how unnerving his mere existence was to her.

Cheri had an ingrained habit of staying quiet/silent even when in extreme pain/distress. There was such an emphasis put on staying quiet during his childhood that, even long after he was released from the basement, he would reflectively cover his mouth or bite his tongue when when he was unable to keep from crying out.

Cherubim’s name was derived from an Asmodean fairytale about a vain man who is transformed into a hideous monster by the gods as punishment for his hubris.

Gumina is “finish half a game of chess in one move” smart. Sati knows all the mechanics of chess and is good enough at it, but gets so caught up in the little details that he fails to notice the danger signs. Cherubim doesn’t know what chess is.

Asmodean/Lasaland was either just not being governed in EC 136 or Gumina was running things out of the basement, because Venomania didn’t have a clue or care in the world about how running a duchy actually worked.

Sateriasis is named after a great-grandfather of his from his mother’s side of the family.

The Venomania mansion housed about 50 people pre-massacre.

Sati is tol. Cherubim and Gumina are smol.

*concept* Cherubim: I want a father who‘s proud of me and a mother who looks after me Gilles and Irina: lol gross but okay i guess

#redlady speaks #evillious chronicles #lust arc #wrote these a couple days ago #been waiting to see if any more inspiration would strike me but it seems this is it for the moment

14 notes · View notes

goshiyachi · 5 years

Text

In between the days

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Gen: Dabi & Todoroki Family; Dabi & Natsuo Todoroki Summary: He knew it took some time to fix everything. But honestly, Dabi wished his life hadn’t needed fixing in the first place. Rating: G Warnings: past/referenced trauma, referenced child abuse A/N: Written for @bnhaflashbang A/N: I want to thank jiinko from discord for being the beta to this story and @jiminie--crickets and @mageofspace924 for being two lovely people that chose to make beautiful pieces of art for my story! Word Count: 1,495 Read on ao3

Scarcely, he could recall the intangible bubbling sensation that had dropped when he felt his blood finally, and securely, bind itself with his own tight puffs of breath when he managed to right himself up. The bed, including the sheets and pillows, had been pushed away. His skin was warm, too warm, so he knew the fire he had used yesterday did not bode well for his sleep now. His room had been a testament of it when the cloak he wore had been left on the ground and the curtains had been pulled back. The city smog had won this round as he coughed with a little more gusto than he preferred. The loneliness from his apartment, however, had not been what he wanted. Strange. It had been so long ago when he mingled for cheap conversations that strangers could only give when he couldn’t stand the iciness in his own home, then.

The insight that few could bring had been a rare taste, and Dabi, well, he had lived in a world where he had not liked company that bored him and chained him up.

His family, then forgoing his memories that he could somewhat remember, had not been as kind as he used to make them out. Or rather, he knew the bitterness from his escape had done something to it. To them all. He had poisoned his own past that tied him with them.

The only fault was that he had been just as proud as them—and as understandably and furiously like him. They couldn’t talk without urging the edges to start arguing. They couldn’t say two simple apologizes between them because they were themselves. Nothing more. Nothing less. A tradition in itself as it quickly went about in a roundabout circle. His own time on earth proved that. And it would never end.

He himself had been hurt by his own words, his own actions that never gave him any less room to find a solution. He knew, though. It all could have been avoided if they all—if he had...

Dabi didn’t let his thoughts idle. No. The morning had started without him, luring his limbs to toss and turn as the sun hid the darkness. He had to get up. Had to wake up all his mind when his own body had betrayed him as it urged him to shower and eat a proper breakfast. Last night’s wandering had made his stomach much smaller that it cried for the meals he used to have. From his refrigerator the plastic container had been sitting there. Still would have, if not for his hunger winning him over with practicality over pride.

(He did his best to savor the meal while not thinking about how far his sister had come from when she first started steaming vegetables and seasoning the meat.)

He didn’t go back to those early mornings when he had watched and chopped his own plate while he tutored her. Or when his little brothers and mom would chatter or set up the table before it would all simmer out, as they were separated by duty and other obligations that weren’t as convincing to keep them apart. Nostalgia was terrible like that, grabbing somebody's soul ringing it out of all and any pieces that held such light and happiness until it withered into paler imitations.

He hated it.

But like how it went, Dabi had taken off and locked the apartment when he was full. The coat, always covering his arms, had become a status of him aimlessly finding something to do. Anything that could rein himself and find the freedom he won when he left. But, like other days where the streets were full of people, Dabi found himself even more wistful when he ran across a small family. A mother herding her own children on a local park. The smallest had been intrigued by his own clothing as he never fully looked away from him.

The round eyes, chubby cheeks and the innocent that radiated off of him and his siblings—Dabi wished he had grown up knowing that feeling.

“You know if you keep scowling like that those wrinkles will stay permanent.”

He couldn’t help but scoff at the comment as a reflex. There had been an eye roll in there too. He leaned back further into the bench as much as he had been able to as he stretched out his legs in a childish way, he could commit himself into when another body whose was taller and bulker (and it would always be very unfair, as genetics went that he had to look up to his younger brother now) sat down. His white had had been spiked up, and his eyes, the same shade of their mother’s, had glinted. No matter how much time passed, Dabi knew that he could never stop him from looking and finding him in the city. They never had been separated for long during their childhood.

And now, with adulthood hanging over Dabi and his brother finishing high school, he saw it. The storm coming in larger waves. They knew why he looked for him. Why the stolen glances he received from his family had been getting frantic. His name, or lack of it, had been turning into a forum between the circles his family had been known for. Rumors came. His old acquaintances had texted him. But nothing came out of his own mouth or old social media accounts he used to maintain.

It had been a long time since he wanted to go back into society. His brother knew that. Yet, it still seemed like he needed reminding when he fished out from his duffel bags another row of plastic containers. All filled completely with a variety of new dishes. No doubt a bribe for him to go back. If only he could do that.

“And what? Ruin the brooding aesthetic I’ve got going on?”

Natsuo’s laugh lightened his lungs. “More like it would incite a certain birdy to come fly over.”

Neither missed the way Dabi’s blood ignited his skin as a flush colored any exposed skin, a terrible side effect of his skin and his quirk working against him when his emotions went up and down. Of course, Natsuo would learn to fuss like Fuyumi did when they heard and noticed the unfortunate luck he had when the new hero, Hawks, had barged into his life some time ago when he had been sitting alone at the edge of an old building. The idiot had thought that he wanted to jump, and he couldn’t let him do anything like that during his lunch break because then it would ruin the mood for his revered smoothie Saturdays.

They were all awful like that. Jumping into his life, always finding ways to stay connected into his own verse of adulthood and he tried to find meaning to it all. Natsuo, while being his younger brother, had often been the type to talk and interact with people that took interest in Dabi’s life. Whether from before in the prep and cram schools they attended, and especially now when he dropped college.

“Ha, ha.” Dabi took the containers and shoved some into his pockets (another reason why he liked his coat, deep pockets were awesome and practical). “Come on, what’s with the food fest?”

Fuyumi didn’t usually bombard Natsuo’s food run with millions of containers unless she wanted something. Natsuo didn’t exactly change his body language, not in an extreme way, but it had been enough for Dabi to see what would come out of his lips. “It's almost mom’s birthday.”

Like that, Dabi’s teeth clenched. Naturally, it made sense why she would have Natsuo be the one to ask him politely. They had often been the closest.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Natsuo frowned. “It’s been six months.”

Six long months of not writing or seeing his mom or Shouto. The distance was working in some ways. It had made him see that his resolve needed to strengthen in some fashion.

“And?”

Natsuo’s cheeks reddened in anger. “And she’s your mother! Shouto may not have been as vocal as before, but he still wants to know where his big brother is.”

Dabi couldn’t make himself look at Natsuo. Everything and everyone suddenly went duller. He didn’t remember what he said to him, but the cursing he received had said it all. Dabi was a horrible person.

The hardest part of it all was that he knew he could do better. On the eve of her birthday he couldn’t even knock on her door. He just stood there with one frozen hand outstretched before he left the facility.

One day though, Dabi would find the answers to fix everything. To finally see her again and be around with all his siblings.

Until then, he would keep on searching.

#bnha flash bang #bnha #Dabi #touya todoroki #todoroki family #pre-canon #lee attempts to write #Ibtd: In between the days

10 notes · View notes

ofrosesandash · 5 years

Photo

100+!

Holy crap, I've broken a hundred followers. And this reboot of Margaery has been kind of fantastic for me, so thank you to everyone following me, and everyone who has talked to or written with me. In honor of this milestone, I am giving a nod and a shout out to some great blogs and their writers. Due to my ass being terrible with noticing these details, I'm using the pronouns "They" because I'm not positive who is a she or a he or in between.

To begin with, my first shout-out to those I feel are constantly under appreciated: MultiMuse Blogs. I mean, there can be rare and wonderful Muses in their rosters. Running one of these Bad Boys is a HUGE commitment to multiple characters you believe you'll use frequently. These peeps are the lifeblood of RP Communities.

@astormofagirl

Cori is amazing and we go way back to when I first started writing Margaery, I wanna say in 2015. We've both bounced between in different URLs and Blogs. While I've only written with their Sansa at this time, they have a lovely selection of ladies they write quite well!

@openxstrings

They've got a selection of top notice rare muses, and at least one nifty OC. It's been a bit since I checked out the roster. The ones I've written with are Edward Covenant from "The Order", Herc Hansen from "Pacific Rim", their Pacific Rim original, and Riddick-aka the badass Scifi Anti-Hero portrayed by Vin Diesal. Not only are all of these characters available, they write them damn well. Talking with them has been a true delight; and though there is a time zone difference, it's worth waiting for them to respond. Not to mention, they're honestly just great to talk to about antics planned or occurred.

@fallesto

This lovely person reblogs a roster of their active muses. They've got some of the tougher ones in the fandom-Cleganes, Joffrey, Qyburn, Selmy, and others. The roster also currently includes all of Margaery's husband. You should, honestly, already be following them.

@asoiafundone

A multi Muse by Lady Grey. A fantastic Mun and a dynamite writer. We haven't written quite as much as I'd like yet-but we have spoken a bit. Lovely person, brilliant writer.

@orionknytechildofzeus‌

Don't let the URL fool you, they’ve got more then one muse. They've got a cool selection of OC's and Canon characters, and they're a lot of fun to write with!

@sarcasmasadefense

I haven't written with them yet (my bad), but they seem very nice, and on their roster includes the lost Tyrell brothers, Willas and Garlan!

@mcssagcinabottlc

A lovely person I spoke to and wrote with a little; their roster contains Margaery's sister in law, Leonette Fossoway.

The Squad

These are two who've had the most OOC and partial crack interactions which. These discussions have been pretty much perfect, so, I identify them as Margaery's squad.

@bastardslayer

I mean, look at that URL. There are many talented Sansa's on this site, but that URL definitely stands out to me. We've been plotting and talking out of character almost fairly regularly, and they've got a great grasp of their muse.

@chevalier-de-la-fleurs

Similarly there are a number of great Loras's out there. That said, this particular Loras writer has always been the easiest for me to talk to. I don't know them well, but they're friendly, and a great writer, and I've really enjoyed writing with them.

Precious Ones

These are people I love writing with. Maybe they aren't in Margaery's squad (at least yet), but she definitely enjoys her time with them, and is prepared to fight for them.

@outlawerofbeets

NORA IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SUNSHINE SPOT IN THE FANDOM. We mostly scream head canons about Margaery and her smol King Husband back and forth at each other, but we have threaded. It's always a treat, and it usually tugs at my heart strings. For instance, once upon a time, Margaery found herself romantic with a Tywin. And she started to apologize to Tommen and explain she didn't think it was wise if they married, because she'd fallen in love with another. When she revealed who, Nora's Tommen's response was the most precious, purest things ever. "But he's old!" Also they've got an older Tommen/Arya ship that's to die for.

@agirlofwinterfell

This is the first time Margaery has really connected to an Arya. And, like most of the older people Arya meets, she would kill for this murder inclined child. We've already got one AU for my Olen verse, where both Arya and Margaery are at the wall pretending to be boys.

@a-maimed-man-and-bitter

So far we've got one thread; but ya know, it's been great watching Margaery and Jaime interact. This is furthered by the fact that their grasp of Jaime hurts my heart.

@mombeavty

Margaery is so happy to finally connect to her twice sister by law. And honestly, I've never quite grokked full book or show canon, as I personally favor blended-so I really like what the mun has done with their muse.

The Greatest Ladies GRRM Inspired

I have a mad love for original characters. While writing a pre-established character takes talent, original characters express one's love and passion for a fandom. That fandom has inspired a whole character. Side note, I honestly love original character relations to canon characters. (If you couldn't tell). I don't see role play as needing to follow canon, as long as everyone acts in character. So, the more the merrier.

@thelittlestrcse

Margaery didn't know how much she wanted a real sister until Trysta appeared. I'm a bit slow to respond to my threads with them, but this isn't commentary on my appreciation for mun or muse.

@lilliyxn

A newer lovely muse, one can never have enough Blackwaters. Where GRRM stopped with Bronn, they decided he needed a sister.

@meryllfrey

Honestly this is an original character that's managed to stick around, and that's saying something. Writing an OC can be extremely discouraging, with minimal interaction, almost no chance at shipping. But Lady Grey's Meryll Frey is a testament of creativity and determination.

Shout Outs

These are people I've talked to but for whatever reason haven't written with yet. For some of them, this is strictly on the standard of Margaery wouldn't interact with them, or I haven't cooked up anything yet.

@truetargaryen

This is a super sweet muse running a book based Danaerys Targaryean. While I favor blended canon myself, book canon is nuanced, so pulling it off is an impressive ability. And pull it off, they do.

@exilekniight

I first ran into them on one of my OC blogs, and honestly, I love them. Other then a previous absence of Jorah Mormonts in the fandom, well, let me quote them "Jorah Mormont FUCKS". This highlights their delightful attitude.

@longmayshereignxcersei

For obvious reasons, Margaery and Cersei will never be best buddies. That said, this is still my personal favorite Cersei-and not just because they put up with my originals. They're lovely as a person, and a very talented writer with some brilliant insight about their muse.

@foreignaccent

This is another monument of the fandom. I've been dabbling between different muses since Season 3, and I can usually find that URL around. A fandom treasure, and a nice person

@potterstillstinks

In talks with them, I fleshed out Margaery's wizarding world verse. They also put up with me because we were in the middle of discussion when I found myself in the ER due to a negative medication reaction. Even checked in. So, if you've got an HP verse, I strongly suggest following this Draco Malfoy.

Shameless Self Promo For Other Blogs of Mine You Should Check Out:

Did you know the Hightower's - Margaery's Mother's Family - are actually really interesting? They have a Valyrian blade called Vigilance. Their house is one of the oldest, they man a Lighthouse, and their words are "We Light the Way". OH and more notably, they're rumored to dabble in alchemy, necromancy, and other magic. So Margaery has two side Blogs: One for her mother, and one for one of her Aunts.

@vigilantalerie

Alerie Hightower is probably the mother of your favorite Tyrell. Olenna was born a Redwyne, she doesn't count. That's right-this is Mace Tyrell's wife, mother of Willas, Garlan, Loras, Margaery-and Trysta too!

@madmaidmalora

First of all, consider that that's not just a clever url. That's literally what she's called-the Mad Maid, rumored to dabble in spells, last seen locked away with her father looking for a method to stop the Greyjoy Incursion.

Next up I have a pair of OC Families. The Wildcrows, completely Original Content, and House Ferren-mostly original content.

@thewildcrows

Technically Alyssa and Baelor Wildcrow had different names when I first conceptualized them. But those original concepts were AU's for characters whose face claims already existed in Game of Thrones-and characters I'm actually plugging in original works. As I result, I created these two. Lys and Bael Wildcrow are Sellswords born of a Night's watch Deserter and a Wildling. Their father may have been a Blackfyre, but they have no idea what that means-nor would either of them care. If I'm not bothering with giving them a claim, why bother making them Blackfyres? One: I wanted to give them purple eyes. Two: Fire invulnerability neither of them realizes they have, as they grew up isolated. I find this could make for excellent hijinks.

@ladyferren

See, I love ferrets. Probably my favorite animal. So when a canon house was revealed called Ferren with two silver ferrets on its banner, I was desperate to know more. Except there wasn't much. They existed. Banner House of House Lannister. So I got a little carried away creating a history of a House and occupants to inhabit it. While the primary character is Seiran-the sudden Lady of her house after her father's sudden death-I also have the whole damn house hold available for interactions.

Finally, just a pair of fandomless girls I think you might just like:

@trixboomblast

Beatrix is a favorite creation of mine. She's a fandomless original character with explosive tendencies, behaviors, and habits.

@wikipediawoman

This is a side blog of Beatrix. Deia was inspired by Deadpool-what with the ability to poke the Fourth Wall and know way more then she should about pre-established character. I'm winging her as well somewhere between a Time Agent from Doctor Who and a member of the Temps Commision from Netflix's Umbrella Academy Adapttion.

#Falling Petals || PSA #((HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS))#((THANK YOU!!!))

10 notes · View notes

timediverge · 5 years

Text

Worldline report: Despair Survivalist

This is a resource for anyone who wants to interact with my Despair Survivalist verse. In this post, I will lay out a variety of background/lore information, provide plot hooks for threads, and explain brief histories of every character in STEINS;GATE within this verse. Thank you for taking an interest. If it isn’t obvious, this verse is kind of a passion project and I would be VERY pleased if anyone else appreciates it.

Trigger warning!

Some really terrible stuff happens during the tragedy. If you don’t want to read about a world where society was brought to ruin by a band of murderous terrorists devoted to the concept of spreading despair, read no further. If you don’t want to be spoiled for STEINS;GATE or Danganronpa, read no further.

First, some housekeeping: This verse does not connect with any of my other Danganronpa verses. If you have a Danganronpa muse and you interact with Okabe in this verse, I will assume they haven’t met before. This can change depending upon plotting, but Okabe was not a student at Hope’s Peak Academy. Those verses only lead into his Despair verse for now. Also, all of the character background stuff I write for characters other than Okabe in this post is for my reference and is based on my headcanons. If you don’t like what happens to your muse, then we can plot a new fate for them. A lot of this is really long, so feel free to skip around to what interests you.

BACKGROUND

As for the background of this verse, it is a hybrid of STEINS;GATE and Danganronpa. The Tragedy occurs on August 13th, a Friday. Moments after a bomb threat stopped all the trains to and from Akihabara, terrorist attacks struck throughout all of Tokyo. Soon entire districts were in flames, and riots consumed the streets. The Tragedy had begun all across the world. Within hours, most world governments collapsed. The world entered a war without end. War for the sake of waging war.

Less than an hour after the riots started, masked men entered Okabe’s lab. Despair fanatics, as they would later be called. Whatever happened next is known only to Okabe himself. He sent his final D-mail to himself an hour prior. The message was clear and concise. LOCKDOOR. And a moment later the power went out. The newly locked door deterred the attack, and Okabe and the others survived through the riot.

When the sun rose on Akihabara, the city was transformed into a wasteland of blood and despair. The sun set again before the lab mems went outside to take a look around. For the second time in his life, Okabe saw the streets of Akihabara go empty. Over the following weeks, Okabe and his friends made several excursions into the city, avoiding fanatics and other survivors as much as they could. In the short term, they only wanted enough provisions to ‘wait out’ the Tragedy. Without TV or internet, they had no way of knowing that society had collapsed and that they were almost entirely cut off from the outside world. In the long term, they were trying to build a rudimentary antenna so they could reestablish cell phone service.

CHARACTER REPORTS

In this section, I will rattle off the details of what happened to all of the lab members. Some of this will be vague, as @timedenied and I have only briefly discussed a few of the characters. As I said in the introduction, these are for reference and will not be imposed upon you if you rp any of these characters. Going to also reiterate my spoiler warning, and my trigger warning just to be safe.

Okabe Rintaro - LAB MEM 001

Okabe, as usual, has seen more horrors than the other members of the lab. He remembers the events before his final D-mail, and refuses to speak to anyone about it. During their first trip outside after the riots, Okabe climbed a tall building and looked out to Ikebukuro, where he and Mayuri’s families are. The entire district was in flames. He tries to keep his friends together and to keep them motivated. He feels that it is his responsibility to protect his friends, and he tends to take the lead in most of their operations. He has dubbed their ongoing excursions into the city in search of supplies “Operation Fimbulwinter.”

Shiina Mayuri - LAB MEM 002

Mayuri’s skill at making cosplays has actually been very useful since the fall of society. She can make weather-appropriate clothing for the others, and mend their clothes if they get damaged. The others are shielding her from the truth outside. They rarely bring her into the city with them, and they speak in vague terms about the fanatics when she is around. Unfortunately for them, all this really does is make her anxious and confused.

Hashida Itaru - LAB MEM 003

Daru only sometimes accompanies the others into the city. With no electricity, he spends large amounts of time reading and rereading manga, and working on Future Gadgets, especially the MLRCPA v 2.36 (Mobile long-range cell phone antenna), despite the scarcity of parts for it. He is seemingly immune to cabin fever.

Makise Kurisu - LAB MEM 004

-awaiting notes from @timedenied-

Moeka Kiryuu - LAB MEM 005

After the failed raid on the Future Gadget Laboratory, Moekka and her fellow rounders were swept up in the riots. They were in a better position to survive than the civilians, given that they were armed. However, the tide of Despair was too much. They were quickly picked off by the fanatics until only Moeka remained. When the power went out, she lost all contact with FB. Okabe and the others haven’t seen her since the collapse of society, but she is likely either dead or in despair.

Luka Urushibara - LAB MEM 006

The Despair fanatics acted to attack the nation’s hope. This made temples and shrines prime targets. Luka’s home was targetted directly. The fanatics stormed in and killed everyone inside, led by members of Ultimate Despair directly. She would have been killed, or worse, had she not been training with her sword at the time. In a desperate act, she killed a fanatic in self-defense. Seeing that she was already in despair, the leaders of the operation let her live, on the condition that she burn the shrine to the ground for them. She still lives in the burned-out wreckage of her former home, rarely leaving to look for food. She clings to the “supernatural” sword as if it is part of her body. (Note: By default, it was Kuzuryuu and Pekoyama who lead the raid, but this can be changed based on plotting.)

Akiha Rumiho - LAB MEM 007

Rumiho might’ve seemed safer than most in her penthouse apartment. Despair had other ideas. One of the spectators during one of her RAInet tournaments was a devotee of Ultimate Despair and took a sordid interest in her. In the time leading up to the strategy, he stalked her and found out where she lived. When the riots began, her building was specifically targetted. Practically everyone inside was murdered on the way to the penthouse. When the fanatics breached the door, they offered her father a terrible choice. Would he spare his daughter’s life in exchange for his own? Naturally, he chose Faris and was killed. She was held captive in the apartment for some time before she killed a fanatic in self-defense. In an act of vengeance, the remaining fanatics sabotaged the elevator and destroyed all the stairwells in the building, leaving her to die.

Suzuha Amane - LAB MEM 008

Moments before the tragedy begins, Suzuha notices something disturbing. The divergence meter had changed. It showed divergence beyond 1%. She was in shock long enough to be caught up in the riots. At first, she tried to take cover in the Lab, but the door was locked. She had no choice but to take cover deeper into the city. Luckily, her skills as a survivalist in SERN’s Dystopia kept her alive in the coming weeks. She spent her time alone, single-mindedly seeking her time machine in the Radio building. As bad as the SERN Dystopia was, this was not the future she was fighting for. More disturbing than that, someone had altered the timeline right under her nose. If and when she reaches her time machine, she will realize it is broken and she can’t fix it. Trapping her in this horrible past.

Yugo and Nae Tennouji

Their status is unknown to all but SERN. Okabe reassures the others that a big, strong guy like Mr. Braun could keep his daughter safe, but in reality, he isn’t very confident.

PLOT HOOKS AND STORY CONSIDERATIONS

In this section, I will try to write out a few general plot ideas that can be used for RPs in this verse. This will include a few story considerations that haven’t been fully fleshed out yet. For now, I will only include story hooks for Okabe, for obvious reasons. That being said, I may add more for other characters at some point. These are not the only plots I will do in this verse, they just serve as a baseline for easier plotting.

GENERAL

The following plot hooks are for any muse other than the ones mentioned on this Worldline report. Namely, crossovers, Danganronpa muses, OCs, ect.

Despite the fact that Okabe always scavenges with a partner, something causes him to get separated from his fellow lab member. In his frantic attempt to reunite with his friend, He breaks one of his personal rules and gets spotted by another survivor. (Very basic plot hook with a lot of options.)

When the lab members finish the MLRCPA v 2.36 (Mobile long-range cell phone antenna) an automated phone call from the government. Your muse calls the number back, only to be connected to the phone attached to the Antenna. Okabe calls your muse back shortly afterward.

More coming soon!

STEINS;GATE

These quick template hooks are for if you RP a STEINS;GATE muse and want to use my Character Record as a base for a thread with me.

Link.

-UNDER CONSTRUCTION-

#ᵂᵒʳˡᵈˡᶤᶰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒʳᵈˢ (verses)

2 notes · View notes

pelle-lavellan-a · 5 years

Note

Those "My Inquisitor as a companion" asks: 1, 4, 7 & 9 :3

Pelle As a Companion

1. If not for the Conclave, what would drive your character to join the Inquisition?

Pelle’s motives for joining the Inquisition are fairly similar between both verses, but in a companion verse he comes into the Inquisition with a goal, whereas in his main verse he rediscovers that goal later on.

The goal being: prove to his people that humans can learn to respect the Dalish if they only come to understand them a little better.

In his companion verse, he joins the Inquisition shortly after the Herald and companions help him and some hunters get rid of templars who were antagonizing Clan Lavellan for offering aid to the rebel mages. Seeing that the Inquisition did not discriminate and was very quick to help defeat a common enemy, Pelle decides to join the Inquisition as a means to represent his people and show them that coexistence between humans and elves can be achieved if they work towards it.

4. What would their romance route look like? Would they be romanceable?

I’M GLAD YOU ASKED!!

Yes! Pelle is a romanceable companion for M! Inquisitors.

(this is pasted from THIS POST)

Very high approval required. Pelle Is wary about returned flirts but will eventually warm up to the Inquisitor. Must complete Calling in a Favor to initiate the romance.

It is easier to romance Pelle as a human or qunari Inquisitor. Pelle is very selective and is incredibly cautious about getting too close to the Inquisitor. Bringing him along in the party helps by unlocking banters in which the Inquisitor can occasionally interact with Pelle and another companion.

Once you have unlocked Skyhold, if your approval is high enough Pelle will approach the Inquisitor about the situation of his clan unlocking the Calling a Favor quest which can be completed at the war table. Once that is completed you have a chance to talk to Pelle about the result and console him about his clan’s fate. Flirting in this scene would be ill-advised as he gets a little upset.

Once this quest is completed you may continue to flirt with him in casual conversations. After leaving the area and returning you unlock a cut scene where Pelle confronts the Inquisitor about the flirting. He asks the Inquisitor to stop flirting with him if they don’t mean it, you then have the option to initiate a romance with Pelle or tell him you weren’t serious (which causes Great Disapproval)

The romance carries out from there on out and he will bashfully ask you to dance at the Winter Palace.

His romance quests are unlocked after completing Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts,

if you do not unlock Calling in a Favor before completing Wicked Eyes, Wicked Hearts his romance will be locked and you cannot initiate it.

Romance Quests:

Making Amends ( War Table Mission)

Dust to Dust

Continue reading for Quest Description

Making Amends (Romance)

Quest can only be unlocked after completing either Wicked Eyes, Wicked Hearts,

Location: Skyhold

Quest can be initiated after overhearing Pelle and Maevis bickering in the gardens. If you speak to Pelle after leaving Skyhold and returning he will confide in the Inquisitor that he has been arguing with his apprentice Maevis a lot lately and that she is very upset with him for joining the Inquisition. If you press for questions Pelle will tell you more about Maevis. Pelle generally expresses a deep concern for Maevis and her temper and notes that she is not adjusting well.

Finishing this conversation opens up a war table mission where Maevis and a few other scouts are said to have gone missing during their last mission. Leliana is the only option in learning the whereabouts of Maevis and the scouts. Once they are found you have the option to retrieve Maevis without Pelle or to tell Pelle and take him with you.

Dust to Dust - TWO ROUTES

Location: The Emerald Graves

You gain approval for telling Pelle about Maevis and the scouts. He will then suggest you go together to find all of them and bring them back to Skyhold. There is also an option of this quest where you can neglect to inform Pelle and retrieve Maevis without him.

Once you locate Maevis and the scout’s whereabouts you are met with the body of two dead scouts and three red templars. The further you follow the path into the cavern the more dead bodies you find.

If Pelle is in the party he will at first be worried that Maevis may also be dead, but his concern shifts halfway from Maevis is hurt to Maevis is behind it.

Maevis is found at the end of the cavern, this initiates a cut-scene

If Pelle is in the Party: Maevis will beg for Pelle to stay away from her and claim that she does not want to harm him. When he presses on she becomes furious and demands he stay back a second time. Pelle will insist that he only wants to help her and begins to apologize for their argument in the garden.

If Pelle is not in the Party: Maevis will ask where Pelle is. She will instantly becomes upset at Pelle and start to say that Pelle did not even care to notice she was missing and had as much resolve to find her as he did to help the Dalish.

If Pelle is present he is able to talk Maevis down. She tells him that she has made a deal with a rage demon and that she is very scared. He will try to reassure her that he will do everything he can to help her and will offer to take her back to Skyhold.

If the Inquisitor expresses any form or disgust with Maevis, or calls her an abomination, Pelle will become very angry with the Inquisitor and says they will have a discussion when they return to Skyhold.

If Pelle is not brought along, Maevis’ rage slowly begins to shift until she is revealed to have made a deal with a demon and transforms into an abomination. At this point you are forced to kill Maevis. Upon killing her, her journal is found as a drop item.

When you return to Skyhold:

If Pelle was there and was able to talk Maevis down and everything went well. He will thank the Inquisitor for helping him find Maevis. He will also say he owes the Inquisitor, and that if the Inquisitor ever needs anything they need only ask.

If he was brought along but the Inquisitor expressed any disgust with Maevis or even so much as hints that Maevis is a abomination, Pelle will confront the Inquisitor about it back in Skyhold. He will tell the Inquisitor how insensitive it was to say to Maevis when she was in such a vulnerable state. Based upon how the conversation carries out Pelle will either let it go and give the Inquisitor the benefit of the doubt that they put their foot in their mouth, or if the conversation goes south he will break up with the Inquisitor terminating Pelle’s Romance.

If Pelle was not in the party, you will have to return to Skyhold and return Maevis’ journal to him to complete the quest. If this route is taken, Pelle is furious with the Inquisitor for not only taking such a personal matter into their own hands but also murdering his apprentice in the process. This route results in an immediate termination of Pelle’s Romance.

7. What would be on their tombstone in the fade (what is their greatest fear)?

Irrelevance

9. Where in Skyhold would they be found? (e.g. Cole is in the tavern rafters, Leliana in the top of the tower, Varric in the throne room, etc.)

Skyhold Garden

#Long Post #Pelle as a Companion #headcanons #asks #answers

2 notes · View notes

truthofficial · 5 years

Text

Teaser #4 - The Stranger

Disclaimer: this novel is still in its early stages. That is: first draft. The text below may not be exactly how it will be in the finished product. As a result, some things may feel incomplete or stunted. Comments and constructive feedback are welcomed and encouraged.

The town was-.. weird. Strolling casually through the quiet streets, she couldn’t quite tell if it was boring and empty or just plain intriguing - either way, there was an atmosphere about it that she couldn’t quite explain. As far as American towns went, this one was tiny: closer to a village if not for whatever weird-ass rule this particular state decided applied to towns. Population or land mass or something; Lydia had given up keeping track of what different places called their settlements. Maybe it wasn’t even a town; she didn’t know either way.

Still, it seemed nice enough. There were a few places to shop; groceries and gift stores - mostly the kinds of places you didn’t want to stop at too often in fear of ending up on first-name terms with the owners. There were a few bars and restaurants dotted about town, and a small hospital (maybe that’s what made it a town? Didn’t villages just have clinics and local doctors and shit?). Mostly it was just houses, though. Big houses, little houses, cardboard box houses - Lydia chuckled to herself, but she wasn’t wrong; she caught a glimpse of the tell-tale pile of cardboard a homeless person would use as a bed, tucked away in a quiet alley.

Further towards the middle of town were where the smaller, less impressive houses were - apartments above family run shops and blocks of cheaply made buildings piled together in stark contrast to the large buildings with spacious garden areas that the rest of the town’s residents lived in. There was another bar here, this one seemingly far busier than the rest, and Lydia smiled a little as she found herself wandering inside. There were nicer bars around, of course, but this one was smaller and had a more homely, community feel to its wooden beams and ragged seats with dubious stains. Elyan would hate it there, but Lydia was right in her element, sweeping over to the bar with a grin to the tender. At this time of the afternoon there wasn’t much to look at - just the usual tired eyes and sunken faces of small families trying to keep their lives interesting when they know they have kids to pick up from school soon, and people who come to drink alone and had probably been there for most of the day in some vain attempt to wipe away their loneliness with alcohol. Some game or another was playing on a battered old TV screen and the soft tones of whatever quiet-voiced girl was in the charts right now played quietly from the overhead. There was a gentle stir of chatter about the place, hushed but friendly over the clinking of glasses and the creaking of wooden chairs that had probably been there for longer than the bar itself.

Before she could continue her train of thought, one of the bar’s patrons locked onto her gaze. His eyes were… intense was the only word she could think of to describe them. Bright yellow swimming with curiosity and soft kind of absence as he got to his feet and made his way over, as if taking her narrowed gaze as invitation to talk.

“Didn’t expect to see you in here so soon~” he greeted in a drawl she could easily have heard in some shitty Western, beckoning the barman over with barely a gesture. “What’s your poison?”

“Vodka…” she muttered absently, more interested in the guy himself than anything he was about to buy her. Were those contacts? He couldn’t actually have yellow eyes, right? His interactions with the bartender were so subtle and practiced that she barely even noticed he’d ordered until the drinks were down in front of her and money exchanged hands. Noticing her staring, he flashed a wide, lopsided grin; his lips pulling up to the right as if deliberately revealing the sharp point of his canine. Holy shit. Was he a vampire? That wasn’t possible, right? Like, that wasn’t actually a thing. Supersoldiers and shit, that could be explained by some kind of pseudo-science or whatever, but vampires were straight-up magic-.. Nah. She was jumping to conclusions; seeing fucking magic everywhere just like Ely did. He was probably just one of those weird fucking vampire “lifestylers” she’d heard about.

“Cold confusion dancing in fresh eyes, “One more weary soul searching for sleep, “Yet a stranger dances into light “Searching for the truth that lay beneath…” Lydia blinked. Was he speaking in poetry? Great. Barely a day in this town and she’d bumped into fucking Lestat or something. Lydia was starting to think perhaps staying inside with her brother wasn’t such a bad idea after all. “I saw the old farmhouse was occupied at last, and now you’re here - it wasn’t a far leap to put those pieces together,” he continued as if the verse had never been there, “People don’t usually come to the smallest bar in town on their first day here - not unless they want the company of an odd (but handsome) stranger~” The sentence was punctuated by another crooked grin as he made to take a sip of his drink; dark waves obscuring his unnatural eyes for a moment.

“So what brings you here?” There was that gentle curiosity again, weirdly genuine despite the waves of bullshit she could smell on this guy. “People don’t move here without a story to tell~”

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot of ideas on what people ‘don’t’ do,” she huffed, taking a long mouthful of her drink. “Why d’you care?”

“I like knowing people,” he hummed, and while his tone was sincere Lydia couldn’t help but think there was more to it than that, “especially in a town like this. Everyone has a story. Everyone has a verse waiting to be written for them.”

“Right…”

A cold silence fell - or, at least, it was cold on Lydia’s end. The weird stranger was as warm and open as he had been for the whole conversation, waiting for her to finish drinking again before he continued. “Your accent… that’s Dundee, right? Scotland?”

That piqued her interest. Glancing sharply at him, her frown grew deeper, “How d’you know?”

“Spent some time there a few years back,” he admitted, his smile growing shadowed with distant reminiscence, “I’m good with accents.”

“You travel, then?”

"Not anymore." The shadow on his smile didn't budge. "Had a while when I had to, but-.. it’s nice to settle.”

“Aye, I get that. Barely remember the last time I settled somewhere...” She didn’t miss it. Whatever the bullshit, she was so fucking restless, all the time. The longer they stayed still the worse it got - she couldn’t settle, not anymore. With a shrug, his tired smile quickly solidified again, “I’m Jackson, by the way.”

Liar. The word hit Lydia in the face for perhaps the first time since he’d started speaking, and something distinctly cold touched her chest. There was something about that smile of his that had lies written all over it-- how much more had he been lying about? Had she started spilling secrets to some asshole who’d use it to fuck them over?

...Should have thought of that before talking to him. Fuck. Lydia was beginning to see why Ely was so hypervigilant. “...No it isn’t.”

“Isn’t it?” he hummed, quirking a brow with a hum, “Either way, I came here to not be known. You can forgive me for being a little secretive”

Could she? Lydia almost laughed at that, “I’m good at holding grudges, you know.”

“I’m sure you are~” As quickly as it had left, the sincerity and warmth was back, his gaze scanning hers for a moment before he let out another short laugh, “Questions left unanswered sit burning in your eyes,” he said, downing the last of his drink and calling the tender over for another before continuing. “You want to know if the eyes are real. And the fangs.” When Lydia fell silent, quickly averting her gaze to her drink, he chuckled again. “A truth for a truth, okay? What’s your name? Why are you here?”

“That’s two truths.”

“One is a courtesy,” he disagreed, smirking widely now, “nobody said you had to tell me your real name~”

“…Lydia. My name’s Lydia.” Downing her first drink and starting on the second, she shrugged, “I’m here because I’m looking for somebody.”

“Or running from somebody. It’s okay,” he reassured quickly as her gaze shot up again, “So am I. That’s how I can tell. There’s a shadow that cloaks us all; the caution covered carefully by ill-considered charm, that we might hide ourselves in the guise of another…”

He seemed proud of that comparison. Lydia was fairly sure he just made shit up on the spot to sound fancy while saying a bunch of meaningless bullshit. Huffing, she took a long swig of her drink, “Anyone ever told you you’re weird?”

“Here and there-where’s the fun in normalcy? And to answer your unspoken question…” Polishing off his drink, he flashed another grin as he got to his feet, “They’re real. I’ll leave it up to you what that means. It was a pleasure to meet you, Lydia - no doubt I’ll see you again.”

With little more than a glance around the bar and one last friendly acknowledgement to the bartender, he was gone; muttering a verse of poetry as he left.

“When foxes eat the last gold grape, “And the last white antelope is killed, “I shall stop fighting and escape “Into a little house I’ll build…”

Okay. So the people in this town were weird as hell. Noted.

#original novel #novel teaser #writers on tumblr #feedback wanted #teasers #teaser 4

1 note · View note

kylosrehn · 6 years

Note

oh. oh. so that's how we're doing this? fine then. (I kid I love the excuse to send you LOTS) favorite character to write about this year? any new fics to start next year? events you participated in this year? fics you wanted to write but didn’t? a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read?

spamming me is actually the way to my heart, this is facts

• favorite character to write about this year:

honestly i’m torn between ophelia and leopold (as in, framework fitz.) i loved exploring ophelia, giving her a backstory and developing her character (because ahem, canon failed to do so), putting her in different scenario/aus and just having fun with her in general. i tried to stick to the (brief) canonic characterisation of her in like, the first half of 4x21, before everything went to shit, and obviously the madame hydra characterisation as much as i could, but admittedly a lot of it was my own personal input/shared headcanons and i guess that’s what made it so fun. that’s not to say she’s a blank canvas, but because canon didn’t really expand on her character (she was human for like, what, less than a day?) a lot of it was down to personal interpretation to fill in the blanks. !always human ophelia, for example, would obviously be totally different to the canon enhanced/inhuman/freshly 3d printed version of her and so on. basically it was really fun to try and figure out what she’d be like had canon not done her so dirty.

and, of course, leopold. it’s true that watching/writing/reading about villains is often more fascinating than focusing on the protagonist. i stand by what i’ve said before - he is my favourite aos character. yeah, he was in four episodes, and yeah he’s technically not a separate character at all - but it feels like he is and that’s basically the interpretation i ran with most of the time, treating the framework as an alternate, separate universe as opposed to a virtual reality. hell, even within that virtual reality, he’s just so vastly different, so deliciously depraved that it makes it super fun to explore his character further. there’s just so much more to him than meets the eye and i fondly remember all the days i spent over the summer just coming up with and discussing headcanons about his upbringing, his father and mother, his academy years and rise to power at hydra. that’s the great thing about the framework - the parts it gives you are fantastic, but the parts it doesn’t give you are even better. so a lot of it was exploring his past and his future (babiesssss. !dad leopold might just be my favourite thing, like, ever. the mad, scary doctor caring for a baby. it kills me. him worrying that he’s going to let his child down and become just like his father. the angsssst). he’s so complex and so evidently deeply troubled and absolutely tragic and i love it. he’s not a black and white, “he’s evil and that’s it” kind of character. he’s passionate and determined; he wants to love and be loved, but because of the constant pressure via his father and the absence of his mother, he’s not quite sure how to go about showing it. it’s so fun to explore his voice because he’s canonically savage and just so… like, there’s something so chilling about his stoic demeanor (notice how he only has angry outbursts in private.) i can’t begin to explain how fun it is to poke around his head and explore why he does what he does - he’s convinced he’s saving people, okay, he literally believes that - and how he deals with the complications that arise (inhuman baby, that will be all.)

tl;dr: leopold “the doctor” fitz is fucked up and i absolutely love it.

any new fics to start next year?

not entirely sure if this is a fic rec or a wip question tbh, so i’m basically gonna give a brief run-down of my fic to-do-list: okay, so i have like three fitz/skye fics i still need to write (as in, plot bunnies that will literally keep driving me insane until i finally get my shit together and get them down on virtual paper). the first one is a (late) christmas-based fic where they’re both working at hydra and he’s her scrouge-like boss who, outwardly, hates joy and love and christmas. one day, after a phone call from his mother, he tells skye he’s got a proposal for her (literally and figuratively speaking). cue a fake-dating trope fic with christmas fluff and a scottish backdrop. basically “the proposal” but with less deportation and more christmas.

the second one is the framework fitz/skye post-revolution prison au (totally inspired by your three sentence prompt fill, which i love.) listen, i love torturing him and the entire prison sequence from 5x05 stole my heart, depression prison beard and all. so, it’s more of that, plus a lot of healing in a motel room.

and the third one, which is less of a solid idea and more of a vague outline in my head: a lowkey star wars au. well. a part of it. soulbond i guess? whatever you want to call it. basically i can’t stop thinking about the two of them being psychically linked and appearing to each other at the most inconvenient of times and falling in love like idiots despite the fact that he’s the literal actual head of hydra and she’s a newly-turned-inhuman and, you know, a devoted resistance member. basically, she’s his redemption arc.

also i’m gonna try and finally fill the prompts in my inbox, because i’m always yelling for more and then they just sit there and i end up hoarding.

events you participated in this year?

i really started writing proper aos fic in the second half of the year, so i didn’t get a chance to join all that many, but hopefully i’ll join more of these in 2018.

• fitzsimmonsnetwork secret santa 2017• aospositivitynet secret santa 2017• skyeward big bang(because i like to mix it up a little. also because like no aos fic writing event accounts for my fav aos ship, rip)

fics you wanted to write but didn’t?

SO. MANY. too many arguably. like, i’m so bad. i’ll probably update this post if/when i upload an actual unfinished fic dump 2017 part II, because tbh i’ve been toying with the idea for a while.

okay, so there’s:

1. the literal very first aos fic i started writing, a direct result of all my pent-up anger and frustration at that lame-ass finale. i decided a fix-it fic was in order, where it basically diverges from canon around halfway through 4x21 (before that scene) and ophelia’s pardoned and allowed to stay, albeit under close surveillance and basically locked up in the containment module and the team has to learn to deal with it and accept her while fitz helps her come to terms with what it really means to be human. also, feelings don’t just get thrown away instead of being properly addressed because that’s lazy writing and you can love more than one person at a time, god fucking damn it). while this is still unfinished, it admittedly later evolved into a broader collab verse known as “team au.”

2. fitz/ophelia ‘we kind of broke up because you chose jemma and now we’re meeting again years later in new york and i never realised how much i missed you until you started chasing me down the street’ au.

3. this one canon-divergence (though canon can’t prove me wrong, so technically…) au where the framework is still the framework and everything is pretty much the same except ophelia’s pregnant (look, in 4x16 when he’s getting all worked up about “i have to protect you, i have to…” and she grabs his hand i literally thought for a moment that she was going to place it against her stomach and they’d do an oh-my-god-baby reveal, but they’re not ballsy enough to go there, so it’s mostly just wishful thinking BUT STILL) so when daisy quakes her out the window, well. in other words: ANGST.

4. this one fic where fitz and ophelia went to high school together but never really interacted until one party during the summer of their freshman year of college, realise they have feelings for each other and sleep together literally under the stars before he moves across the country because of college and a prestigious internship. shortly after term starts, ophelia realises she’s pregnant. cue long-distance internet pining, several failed attempts to confess/meet up in person, and and lots of hurt/comfort as ophelia slowly learns to accept her situation and make the best of it. plus some father-daughter bonding. it sounds really lame now i guess, but it’s really an idea that’s been with me for a long time and i’ve plotted and planned it and thought about it a lot so i would really love to push myself to just sit down and word vomit it out at some point. i promised myself i’d do in december/over christmas, but of course that didn’t happen, so hopefully sometime in january. it’s kind of a pet project of mine so i’ll be really disappointed in myself if i just let it go, even though the fitz/ophelia ship is as good as dead by now and i’d probably just be writing it for myself more so than for any real kind of audience. (yeah, i still have a soft spot for this ship, mostly because of the chest-tightening nostalgia i get whenever i think about it and the literal hours i’d spent being so completely invested in it over the summer. will i ever get over it? probably not.)

there’s a bunch of other stuff i always wanted to explore (leopold backstory, framework-canon hydra uprising, framework post-canon revolution, etc.) but never really got far enough in any other stuff to go into detail about them here (i really have to properly sift through my docs at some point, it’s literally a fic dump of headcanons/ideas from like, three months of hardcore obsessing all summer) but i guess one simple conclusion can be drawn from all this: i have a thing for angst, redemption arcs and pregnancy/baby fic, not necessarily in that order.

a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read?

this is such a hard question because 1. i’ve read a lot of stuff from like, a weird mix of different fandoms, 2. with my ‘unfortunate/problematic’ choice of ships/favourite characters it’s hard to pick something everyone would enjoy. however:

for this empire, after night - i know the kylo ren/rey pairing isn’t for everyone (see above), but in my defense this isn’t really a shippy fic at all. it may, however, be one of the damn most beautiful things i’ve read in a long, long time. the descriptions, the imagery. it’s breathtaking (and really puts my own miserable scribbling into perspective)

#replies #ilosttrackofthings #as per usual this got away from me #it's basically a meta or something welp #writing #fic tag #long post

1 note · View note

angelwithoutleave-moving-blog · 7 years

Text

Castiel Novak Has Been Saved | Castiel & Sam

Posting this completed thread with thexboyxking on the new blog for the sake of verse continuity.

Adrian Duncan was a faithful man. He went to church on Sunday’s, at night he prayed to God. In his everyday life he did what he could to make things easier on those around him and had for a long while. Through college he spent time volunteering, dedicating what free time he had to helping his community and now, halfway through law school, he was looking to intern at some of the most well known firms in California eager to begin a long career helping those less fortunate than himself.

All in all he was a perfect picture of modern day faith and above all he had caught the eye of an angel in need.

Samuel liked Duncan for a variety of reasons, the first being that he reminded him of himself for reasons he wasn’t willing to discuss with anyone asking. Samuel had always enjoyed law too, not Heaven’s law exactly but human law. It was fascinating to him to watch cases play out, to see the people who handled other human’s fates. When he wasn’t busy, which wasn’t very often, he could be found watching that particular facet of human nature.

When the orders had come down from above that he would be needed on Earth and that he was to take a vessel Samuel’s thoughts had gone to Duncan straight away and much to his happiness Duncan had happily said yes.

Looking back now Samuel wondered if Duncan would choose differently, if his faith would have held out if he’d known so many battles were ahead of them. It wasn’t a thought worth dwelling on for long though, not when the sheer exhaustion and heat of Hell gripped at him trying to pull him under even as he took flight with the soul of the righteous man tucked safely away.

Being top side was a breath of fresh air, a cooling relief against the stagnant putrid hot air of Hell. Samuel took a deep breath (much unneeded for himself) clearing his vessels lungs of the taste of sulfur before directing his attention to the subtly marked grave of the righteous man.

It was sad, in a way, that this was all the world had given him. Castiel had given so much for so long and it went without notice or proper credit. If left up to Samuel he’d have changed that—no. He mentally chastised himself for almost instilling too much pride in the soul he’d lifted from Hell. The very fact that Castiel’s grave and passing had gone unnoticed but to those close to him was what made him righteous and good. It was a thought Dean would have chastised him for as well, one he wouldn’t be sharing with anyone save for himself.

Crouching down low Samuel settled his hand over the dirt covering the wooden coffin that lay under it. A gentle push of his grace had Castiel’s soul sliding back in to place, safe and sound in the body resting there.

Another push of grace and Samuel moved himself away, his wings pushing him back to Heaven to round up their troops and take note of any injuries or fatalities the battle in to Hell had brought on his Garrison.

With any luck he would be back at Castiel’s side before the human could come to.

It was hours in Heaven before he was able to make his return to the grave site, worry flooding through him with the realization Castiel had already come to. There wasn’t anything pretty about having to dig out of a grave and Samuel mentally chastised himself for not making a harder effort to be back for the man who meant so much to Heaven.

Reaching out he located him just down the road inside what felt like some human made structure. He had his orders not to be seen, not to interact beyond being a voice from above—why he’d never understand. Castiel would hear him though and he would know not to be afraid.

Castiel Novak—do not be afraid. I’m an angel of the Lord.

The first change that Castiel could process was the heat slowly ebbing out of his skin. Sulfur seemed permanently soaked into his sinuses, the screams still throbbed in his ears, ash was dry and putrid in his throat, and bright pain still blossomed on the backs of his eyelids. But it was cooler in the wooden box, several feet under a layer of barren soil and another of dry sand. Slowly, as though the nightmare clung to him with all its might, the coffin settled into his perception. It smelled like salt and dirt, and he got a whiff of an anointing oil. There was no sound but his breathing, starting to quicken and muffled by the tight space. His tongue still tasted like ash, though, but more like he hadn’t had anything to drink in years – not so much like literal ash. Finally, he opened his eyes, but there was nothing but darkness to see.

It should’ve been terrifying. Waking up to find yourself buried underground. Trapped with no means of escape, just a few pieces of board separating you from immediate suffocation – and guaranteeing less immediate suffocation should you wait long enough. In the silence and the blackness with no indication at all that someone was waiting on the other side, searching, offering a hand. But if he wasn’t so emotionally drained, Castiel would have wept with relief. This was a reprieve. And he would appreciate it.

How quickly the empty seconds ate away his humble gratitude. As much as he would have liked to just let a death come to him quietly this time, he couldn’t shut out the nagging thought that perhaps this wasn’t a hallucination. That’s what Alistair WANTS me to think, he told himself. But the truth did nothing to keep panic from rising in his chest. Ana could be here. Not here, but waiting. She could be lost and alone, searching for some way to bring him back – she could have succeeded. And how broken would she be to discover that she had, only for him to lie there and accept a second death?

So he lifted his arms, expecting them to be weak and skeletal from what must be months or maybe years of decomposition. He was surprised to find them strong, and the knot in his gut twisted. What exactly had Ana done to restore him? His fingers searched for cracks or holes in the planks, finding one over a pile of accumulated dirt on his chest. After all the pain he’d endured for – so many years – he could hardly feel the cuts and scrapes on his fingers as he pried the wood open further, the bruises forming on his elbows and knees as he hit the planks at awkward angles. The air was getting hotter, and the heat was crawling down his throat, and the terror was rising to meet it –

And then there was a crack, and he had the sense to take in what air was left before the board came down on his face. Tears stung his eyes even as he squeezed them tightly shut, throbbing with the pain of impact on his nose. With raw fear coursing in his veins, he managed to shift the board in the mercifully dry and loose soil, off of his face, so he could shovel more of the earth under him, away from him, pulling himself to the surface. He almost exhaled with relief when his hand first broke free, but couldn’t stop fighting to rise from the greedy clutches of the grave. His lungs were burning like such familiar fire, and he could feel his mind getting fuzzy, and a final, desperate burst of energy brought his head above ground. Who knew one could feel like they were drowning in Arizona?

Castiel remained half-buried as he gulped in large lungfuls of the oxygen, though there was no relief in its temperature. The sun was beating down hard, and he was reminded of the ache in the back of his throat by the time he could even his breathing and finish hauling himself to the surface. He was still surprised by his strength, and that reminder – that Ana had traded something for a miracle – had him on his feet and searching his surroundings as quickly as he could find balance. It was on his second lap around his makeshift grave marker – a simple cross with his Bible at its base – that he realized that he had not been laid to rest under such an unbroken sky: the trees all around the site were flattened to the ground. His chest tightened with anxiety, and he instinctively rasped her name. “Ana…!”

She wasn’t here. Wasn’t waiting. There was a pang in his chest – pain, fear, longing – that he tried to quickly dismiss. She had probably had to travel to get this spell done. No way she could find what she was looking for in a patch of no-longer-trees in the desert. So all there was for him to do was find her. He swooped down to grab his old Bible and didn’t even brush himself off before he went to work finding a direction.

Thankfully, the station wagon’s tire tracks were easy to find. At least he had just been wearing jeans, a t-shirt, boots, and his leather jacket when he had died – Ana hadn’t wanted him to be buried in a suit. A blazer might have actually killed him in the heat, during the mile walk to the road or the several more to the nearest structure.

While the sight of the convenience store alone had been enough to hasten his step, as he grew closer, he saw that its windows were dark and garbage bags were barely clinging to the gas pumps. His stride slowed with hesitation as he neared, reluctant to break into the place – but too desperate for a drink not to. He tried the outdoor bathroom first, but the door was steel, and it was locked. It would be easier to break the glass windows into the store proper.

The station had been cleared out of anything that could have been resold somewhere else, but thankfully, jugs of water sat abandoned on the bottom shelf of the second aisle. Castiel had enough restraint not to literally drown himself, but he did splash some of it down his front as he swallowed until he couldn’t breathe. He held the hug in one hand while he panted, scanning the shelves next for some non-perishables.

The screeching was so sudden, breaking the silence so shrilly, that he dropped the plastic container and felt water drench his shoes as he clapped his hands over his ears. His eyes raced around the store as glass broke and outlets popped, and a scream squeezed his throat before it could escape. It was over. The illusion was breaking. Alistair was done torturing him with hope and perdition would be crashing around him any second –

But something remarkably calm reached for him, seemed to brush his heart and ease the suffocating fear. Wind was rushing through his hair and clothes, and everything around him was still crumbling, but Castiel felt compelled to relinquish his panic and focus on that sublime force that was calling for him. “H-hello?” he called.

His eyes narrowed illogically as he tried to concentrate on the words, barely discernible in the strange charge of his surroundings. When he finally understood, his eyes opened wide and searched for the promising visual to come. “An Angel?” he repeated. When no form appeared, he asked, “Where are you?”

The feeling of Castiel brought a wave of relief to Samuel. The human soul was safe and not much worse off than when he had left him reforming life inside of his coffin.That Castiel had had to free himself was not ideal but he seemed to be doing alright now that he had and Samuel was going to allow himself to write off the small mishap as nothing more than poor timing, instead choosing to focus on communicating with the man.

The angel flinched when his first words came out shrill and painful to Castiel, the sound shattering the glass and fraying the electrical lines. It was painful to the human he’d been tasked with taking care of and transitioning back into life after being in Hell, the very thought that he had hurt him was an ache in Samael’s chest. When the silence around them settled and Castiel gave the first indication he had understood what had been said Samael allowed himself to relax a fraction.

I am here, with you.

His ordersnot to be seen were an annoyance prickling at the back of his mind, Dean’swarning of sticking to their carefully laid plans sounded loudly over the urgeto step forward and greet Castiel. It was, in fact, the only thing keeping himfrom doing so.

I am the one who saved you fromHell, I mean you no harm here Castiel.

The angelwas aware it didn’t feel that way.When a voice from above spoke to you claiming to have brought you back to lifeafter shattering the windows and making you crawl from your grave—yeah Samuelwas positive he felt like a simple harmless force right about now.

Closing his eyes he tried to focus on the warning, on Dean’s voice telling him what he needed to do. If he just listened—just this once. Samael forced himself to relax, forced himself not to walk into that service station and speak directly to the righteous man face to face. It was an honor to be the one to save him,to be picked to help walk him along the path needed to save Heaven and Earth. Samuel reminded himself of these facts, letting them keep him in his place, his grace the only thing reaching out to ensure that the human was alright, his voice the only guide he would allow himself to give for now.

God has work for you Castiel, it iswhy you were brought back.

Earth still needed their savior, Heaven still needed their champion. Castiel was not destined for Hell, only great things here on Earth and in Heaven—the excitement of it hummed through Samuel's vessel barely contained behind fragile skin.

There was a time in Castiel’s life when he would have prayed for this, would have accepted it without question and received his orders with humility and honor. His Aunt Naomi would have surely wept to be visited by such a divine entity – though she probably would’ve deeply resented him if she even believed his story. He wasn’t exactly sure when that time had ended, or if he should mourn his own naivete, which surely would have made him happier than his suspicion did.

He had been hunting far too long to feel comforted by a disembodied voice, despite the warm and inviting allure of the being’s presence. Especially since Hell’s finest had taken a special interest in Ana, had started using them against each other and trying to drive a wedge between them. While a part of him wanted to be elated, to at least be curious – he would have so many questions for an actual Angel – he had no choice but to be wary.

And maybe it was for the better that way. Because if Angels did exist – and they had seen no evidence that they did, Ana would remind him if she were here – he may have as many accusations as he had questions.

And if Samuel wasn’t an Angel… then Ana had called on the help of something undeniably powerful to being him back. And he wasn’t sure that would be preferable either. The idea made his stomach clench.

“Why can’t I see you?” he asked in no particular direction. His voice sounded harsh, and he immediately felt guilty about that. If Samuel really was an Angel, he shouldn’t be so demanding. He licked his lips and tried to soften his tone. “Isn’t there an easier way we can talk?”

An easier way to talk would be to show himself, to use his vessel and go to Castiel. Those weren't his direct orders however and Samuel found himself hesitating for a moment not wishing to make any moves that would cause conflict with his higher ups. He had been told to ensure Castiel had come back safely, to ensure that he knew he had work and a mission to do. It was easy to reason that appearing to him in vessel form would be an extension of carrying out those orders.

Heaving a deep unneeded sigh Samuel pushed his grace to Earth, his vessel landed with a soft flutter of wings just beyond the door to the convenience store Castiel was currently in.

It was less than ideal, the location, but Castiel’s doubt and inability to hear his enochian words had him worried. This mission was not going to be a failure, Samuel had never failed his superiors and he didn’t intend to start failing orders now.

His grace reached for the door easily tugging it opened to allow himself entry into the desolate store that had most certainly seen better days.

“Castiel.”

A little incline of his head followed the greeting.

“I know my presence, my words, theycan be a lot to take in. I hope this is easier.”

He gestured to the vessel he was in and offered a small smile.

The charge in the air changed a few moments after his request. The strange noise that somehow combined those low, vibrating subtones and a nearly inaudibly high screech stopped throbbing against his ear drums, and he heaved a sigh of relief. But then it was quiet, and not knowing what to expect froze him anxiously to the spot, in a puddle of water from the dropped plastic jug.

And then the bell at the door jingled, and Castiel jumped as he half-spun to watch the man’s entrance. He was tall, and broad, but he still had this gentle sensitivity about him that invited empathy. He immediately assumed that this was Samuel, but he had a wild thought that maybe some random straggler just like him had just happened to walk into an abandoned corner store in the middle of his conversation with a messenger of God.

When the Angel said his name, though, he was almost relieved before he realized he still didn’t know if talking to an Angel was safe or even real. It was peculiar to him, though, that a divine being would make such an accommodation for his comfort, that he would even offer a smile for Castiel’s sake.

He tried to smile back, but it was nervous and a little forced. “Yes, that’s… much better. I mean, easier, for conversation.” His mind raced with questions, but he quickly narrowed it down to the most important one first. Licking his lips a bit anxiously, he raised his eyes to meet Samuel’s. “Where is Ana?”

It was good to see the human he was in charge of protecting in alright condition. Of course he seemed a little worse for the ware due in part to digging himself free from his resting place but that would heal and in no time he would be fine. Mostly Samuel was just glad that nothing worse had happened while he had been away. He wasn't sure his higher ups would forgive him losing the man to death again so quickly.

“Ana is safe, alive…that is all I know.”

His mission had not been to keep tabs on the sister but he had checked in from time to time to ensure she was alive. They could find her now, now that Castiel was back on earth. Samuel would make it his mission now to help Castiel in whatever it was he needed, provided those needs didn’t clash with his orders from Heaven.

“Your hands, do they require healing?”

It was the least he could offer since Castiel had been forced to dig himself to freedom because Samuel himself had messed up his timing.

Castiel felt like he couldn’t breathe until Samuel answered his question. But when he did, some of the weight lifted from his shoulders, and he exhaled his relief. He still needed to find Ana, but there was a peace in knowing he would. His smile was easier and appreciative.

“At least she found a smarter way than I did.” He scrambled to gather his thoughts, trying to formulate a way to contact his sister. Frowning, he asked, “How long was I… gone?”

He looked down at his hands when Samuel mentioned them. They were sore and red with blood, but he’d still somehow forgotten about them. Quickly, he shook his head, wincing as he wiped them on his wet T-shirt.

“No, no, they’re– fine.” He really was in a terrible condition to meet an angel, covered in dirt and water and even blood. The idea of what he must smell like made his stomach roll. He tried to maintain eye contact with Samuel, but nerves and now embarrassment compelled him to avert his gaze.

He was hesitant to ask, but he cleared his throat anyway. “What now?” He cringed a bit at the way the words sounded expectant or something, not the way you should talk to an angel. “I mean, what do I have to do now?” He didn’t want to ask, just yet, why he’d been brought back. First, he wanted to know what step to take next.

There were easy and hard parts to what Castiel was asking him and Samuel frowned as he tried to gather his thoughts. The time frame on how long Castiel had been gone was by far the easiest to answer and therefor became the first on the list of his answers.

“Four months, give or take a few weeks.”

That was his fault, more or less. The angels sent in to save Castiel had been under his leadership but Hell had been hard to navigate and it had taken a while longer than it should have for him to retrieve Castiel and bring him to safety. The higher ups didn’t seem mad but Samuel saw it was his own personal failure though he knew he judged himself harder than anyone else did.

“As for what comes next—I’ll be in touch. For now your job is to rest, get back on track. There is war coming Castiel, we must be prepared to fight.”

Castiel had a mission, work to do from God. He would have to be prepared to fight when the time came that they needed his help working against the demons of Hell to stop the seals from breaking. And that was all Samuel knew, all he’d been allowed to know though he was aware there was much more to it than that. This was all he could tell Castiel for now.

“Four months?” he asked, trying not to sound demanding. He frowned anyway, shaking his head as he tried to wrap his head around that. “But it felt like…”

It had felt like decades, and he’d accounted for the possibility that torture had made it seem much longer than it really was, but not even a year? Before he could catch up with that knowledge, though, Samuel was calling his attention again – and he sounded like he was leaving already.

“Wait!” Castiel stepped forward to intercede, but he stopped himself. Instead, he just met the angel’s gaze with desperation and confusion in his eyes. “I-I have so many questions! What do you mean war? How am I supposed to prepare?” He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down, asking his big question slowly.

“Why was I brought back?”

Samuel looked at Castiel, watching him for a moment and debating how much more he should tell him and if there was any sort of advice he could offer to him. In the end he decided that there wasn’t any more he could do for him. Dean always told him waiting for orders was the best course of action to take in most situations.

“Find your sister Castiel, stay alert. I’ll be in touch.”

Something close to a smile passed over his lips before he spread out his wings behind him and pushed out his grace to send himself home. He would see Dean and get his new orders and when it was time he would seek out Castiel once again.

All in good time.

~ Complete ~

#v: parallel prophecies #p: castiel novak has been saved #thexboyxking #completed thread

1 note · View note

killiancygnus · 7 years

Photo

Serendipitous Melody 9/?

Summary: Everyone has dreams. You might dream of becoming an astronaut or teacher, or you might want to become a doctor and save as many lives you can. Emma Swan’s childhood dream was being a singer. But with life getting in the way and never finding the courage to overcome her fears, she never had a chance to follow it. That is until a little push from her friends lead her to cash on an opportunity; and, who knows, she might even get more than what she’d wished for.

Rated: T

Word count: ~2.7k

A/N: It’s show time on Serendipitous Melody this week, are you excited? If you are, I hope you like this chapter and if you don’t...well, I hope you’ll like it anyway :). Huge thanks to @londonsbridge and @the-reason-to-sail-home, my woderful friends and betas, for helping me with the editing and to all the CS Writers’ Hub ladies.

Tagging some friends: @villains-happy-ending, @stardusted-nymph, @allisonchameron, @kmomof4, @hencethebravery, @katie-dub, @captainwiley, @irishswanff, @thejollypirate, @mahstatins, @dassala, @imhookedonaswan, @ofshipsandswans, @legendofthephoenixcs and @csreviews

If you want to be tagged too let me know :)

(Songs in this chapter are: “Animals” by Maroon 5 and “Paradise” by Coldplay.)

Links: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 / AO3

Killian was going to see Emma for the first time after that amazing kiss that morning, but he wasn’t nervous. Nope, not at all. Or that was what he had been telling himself. Yes because, he’d actually been tense from the time he got to work, legs going all jittery from time to time, and eyes looking down at the watch on his wrist every few minutes.

His hopes to have some kind of interaction with her right after Peter’s rehearsal got crushed when the chief sound technician asked to have a word with him about some adjustments they had to make for the following day. It took him so long, that he barely had the time to sit cross legged on the stage’s floor as the beats of Coldplay’s “Paradise” were resounding already from the speakers.

When he chose to pair her up against Peter he was sure she could beat him easily, however, considering his determination and the progress he’d made in the last couple of weeks, Killian wasn’t so sure anymore. And from the look on Emma’s face, things were starting to take a bad turn for her. She seemed weirdly distant, more out of sorts than what he had expected. He had figured there’d have been a bit of awkwardness, but not this. She made mistakes she had never made before: she missed her cue, forgot the lyrics a couple of times, and even repeated the refrain when she wasn’t supposed to. And then, as soon as the time was up, she flew away barely saying goodbye.

Saying he was worried was an understatement. But the problem was that no matter how badly he wanted to take her afflictions away, he didn’t know from where he could possibly start.

When Emma got back home, she let her body fall on the couch, her eyes roaming the ceiling. How she managed not to crash her car on the way home was a mystery to her, shaken as she still was by Peter’s words.

How could he know?

In a matter of days two people, who shouldn’t have known anything about her and her past, deliberately mentioned it. It couldn’t be just a coincidence. After all, Killian didn’t look surprised when she told him about her childhood. Perhaps Peter could read her as easily as Killian could?

No, that couldn’t be it. Peter must have found it out somehow. Killian and she had a connection that was something rare, she couldn’t deny it.

Putting her face in her hands she let out a long sigh. She could think about how Peter could have possibly gotten that information for as long as she wished, but it was unlikely she’d find an answer. She could stress herself out to exhaustion and risk letting him win, or she could put all those feelings in a box to be stored in a corner of her mind and fight, give everything she had on that stage the following day.

The second option was by far the best she had.

Emma played nervously with her nails as she watched Peter start to sing from one of the stage doors. The music was loud there, making her heart beat so fast she could feel it trying to escape from her chest.

He was good, really good. Which might be a problem for her, but as soon as he reached the refrain, that became the last of her problems. Yes, because that's when he subtly started directing glances at her general direction whenever he sung a specific verse.

Maybe you think that you can hide

I can smell your scent from miles…

A shiver run down her spine. Was he implying that he had been following her? And if he did, why would he do that? They talked once! He didn't know her.

She didn't have much time to think about what he could possibly want from her that it was the time for her to go on stage. As Peter walked backstage from one of the opposite doors, Emma took a deep breath, passed her hands on her gorgeous red chiffon dress to brush away some barely existing wrinkles and tucked a rebellious lock of hair inside the messy side braid resting on her shoulder.

Slowly, she followed a path of small white lights to the dimly lit stage, which in the meantime had been covered with smoke. A single microphone on its stand was waiting for her, emerging from the white puffs of air that hid her heels from everybody's eyes. It was like she was walking on a cloud, a big, puffy white one, the kind of clouds you would see floating in the sky on a sunny day of spring.

As she approached the centre of the stage, her gaze lowered to Killian’s cerulean eyes, which color was enhanced by the contrast between the darkness surrounding the room and the rays of bright white light coming from the spotlights. She had been so lost in the blues of his eyes, that she barely noticed the reassuring nod he gave her as a soft encouraging smile spread on his face. As the corners of her mouth curved up in a small smile in return, Emma closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, trying to clear her mind and concentrate.

When the first notes of “Paradise” resounded in her in-ear monitors, Emma kept her eyes closed, patiently waiting for her cue. She thought of her childhood; the memories of a time when the only person she could count on was herself. When no one was there to give her an hug after a long stressful day, no one who loved her. No one who would be there after she made a mistake, no one who would help her fight her battles, no one willing to protect a child from the bullies, no one who cared. She forgot about everything that had been bothering her before, and she started to sing.

When she was just a girl she expected the world

But it flew away from her reach and the bullets catch in her teeth

Life goes on, it gets so heavy

The wheel breaks the butterfly every tear a waterfall

In the night the stormy night she'll close her eyes

In the night the stormy night away she'd fly

She let herself go, all the heartache, the loneliness, the pain from those days pouring out from her lips, permeating the words she was singing. She didn’t care about the audience, the cameras or the coaches. Nor did she realise the effect her interpretation was having on the people around her. Her soft, silvery voice tugged everyone’s heartstrings, lulling their souls with a beautiful melancholy.

It was only when her last vocalisation echoed in the room that she opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Killian, grinning proudly at her and eyes misty, then her eyes focused on Ariel, who was brushing away the tears that had fallen on her cheeks. The cheering of the public was deafening and, as she brought the mic to her lips to mutter a “thank you,” she couldn't help her cheeks from turning bright pink.

As the audience quieted down, Emma caught a glimpse of Belle walking up to her from backstage, followed by a sour-faced Peter.

“Well,” Belle started, stopping next to Emma at the center of the stage. “That was a great start! Congratulation to you both. Now that there are only sixteen of you left, going further into the competition is getting harder for you, but you’re not the only ones under pressure. In fact, tonight, the burden of choosing who will win a ticket for the Semifinals of Enchanted and who will have to leave the show, rests on the shoulders off all four coaches.”

The theater became oddly quiet as Belle gave her speech. The cloud of tension that fell on the studio grew thicker when, seconds later, the screen covering the wall at the back of the stage lit up, showing both Peter and Emma’s names written over two big zeros. At the sight of it on a hidden monitor placed over the judges chairs, Emma’s stomach tied in a knot for the nerves.

“Let’s start from one of the ladies. Tink. What did you think of Peter and Emma’s performances and to whom your vote goes to.”

Tink sit up on her chair, and after thinking for a couple of seconds about what to say, she started, “I loved both your performances, even though they were completely different. Peter, I appreciated the energy you put into your performance; it was clear that you are in your natural element when onstage. As for you Emma, you were absolutely amazing. In my opinion, what distinguishes a real artist from everyone else is their ability to externalise their emotions through their music, building a deep emotional connection with the audience. That’s what you did tonight Emma, and for this reason my vote goes to you.”

There was an eruption of cheers and a few boos, as a silver one papered on the screen under Emma’s name with a pling. Emma bit her lip in embarrassment, trying - in vain - to hold back a grin from spreading on her lips. Then, holding the microphone up with slightly shaky hands, she muttered a barely audible “thank you” right before Belle handed it over to Robin.

“Even though I loved Emma’s performance, my vote goes to Peter.”

As soon as the words left his lips a roar of boos came from from the majority of the audience. Robin put a finger on his mouth asking them to quiet down.

“Both their performances were flawless, but I think that a singer also needs to be a bit of a showman. You know, dancing around, interacting with the people around them. You still have to work on that Emma, but you don't Peter. That's the reason behind my decision.”

While the score changed again on the screen in the background, a few whistles of disappointment could be heard among the fake cheers.

“I guess it’s my turn now,” Ariel observed once the hoots died down, and then spoke directly at Emma, “I think you noticed the tears on my face earlier. Your interpretation was so unique and beautiful, and that’s because you poured your soul in those lyrics. So my vote goes to you, Emma.”

“Wonderful! That’s two votes for Emma and one for Peter,” Belle announced as another round of applause rose from the audience, “Anything can still happen though, as Killian’s vote will count double, since he’s been the one to guide both Peter and Emma on this journey. Killian, it’s up to you now.”

“Seems like it is, yeah,” Killian acknowledged, for then falling quiet as he looked for the right words to say, “This is extremely hard because you both deserve to get to the semifinals. Alas, only one of you can. You would think that being their coach, I already know how good their performance will be. And most of the times you’d be right, but not always. There are always exceptions, you see; and among these exceptions the ones which leave me positively surprised are always the rarest. Tonight one of those exceptions, who surprised me not only once, but thrice, is standing right in front of me. And it’s for this reason that my vote goes to Emma Swan.”

Emma couldn’t believe his words. She was so stunned that she barely registered Belle complimenting her and the loud whoops of the audience. She did it. Again. She never thought she would come so far in this competitions, but here she was, the first semifinalist of Enchanted. And Killian, he looked so proud, somehow.

Noticing a crew member gesturing her to get backstage, Emma came out for her stupor. She thanked both the judges and the audience, and the headed towards the door, not after giving an apologetic smile to Peter for the cameras.

The shootings had just ended, when Emma walked in front of the coaches changing rooms on her way to the exit.

It wasn’t that it had taken her more time than usual to change back into her clothes, on the contrary, she had been quite happy to get off those ridiculously high heels and put back on her boots. It was just that, after she saw Peter leaving the studios rather quickly, she had decided to stay and watch Elsa’s performance, which of course was the last one of the day. It was going to be a nice distraction from everything that had happened to her lately. Were she alone at home, her mind would have probably wondered in places that were less than welcome at the moment. Like Peter words, Felix’ case, Killian and that amazing kiss from a couple of nights before. However, right after she’d shared a celebratory hug with Elsa, who also won against Leroy, exhaustion started to settle in her bones. Cutting the conversation with a more than excited Elsa short, Emma grabbed her purse and left waving her friend goodbye.

As soon as Emma took a turn at the end of the corridor, her body collided against something solid, but at the same time soft, covered with black cotton.

“Sorry, lass.”

At the sound of Killian’s voice her head snapped up in surprise.

God, this is going to be so awkward.

“Oh, ehm, hi,” she breathed out as their eyes met, and then continued, tucking her head down in embarrassment, “It’s okay. I’m sorry too, I wasn’t really looking were I was going.”

“Swan? Are you alright?” Killian said, looking at her as if he were trying to read the answer in her eyes.

“I am,” she replied, brushing him off, and eyed the door at behind him, ready to run, “I’m just tired.”

Killian rose his left eyebrow skeptically, and then he reached down for her hand to stop her for going away.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I know something is off. You can tell me, if you want.”

“I…” Emma hesitated, biting her lip as she thought of what to do. She was almost ready to free herself from his hold and leave, when the words came out from her mouth as if they had a life of their own, “I talked with Peter yesterday before my rehearsal...We had never met before and somehow he knew I’m an orphan. And then as he sung earlier, he kept glancing at me during the refrain as if I were the prey to hunt down. He called me Lost Girl like Felix did at the pub, Killian. I just don’t know what to think.”

Killian’s eyes widened a touch at the revelation. He looked like he’d just got revealed the key answer to solve a complicated puzzle, and in some way he had.

Suddenly, he tugged at her hand and pulled her body to his, embracing her in a hug.

Shocked by the gesture, Emma let him hold her. She rested her head on his solid chest and breathed him in. As he started drawing small circles on her waist, he rested his chin on top of her head and whispered softly her name and “everything will be alright”s.

They stayed in each other’s arms for what seemed like hours, until the sound of a door slamming open and the ticking of someone’s heels on the floor, made them jump apart.

“Jones.”

Killian moved a touch on the right making her see the woman who had just spoke. She definitely looked like a businesswoman with that black sheath and serious attire.

“Regina, what are you doing here?” Killian asked the woman, moving a little closer to Emma as if to protect her.

“I had a meeting with the production,” she explained matter-of-factly, and then continued, giving Emma a disdainful look, “I was coming to get you so we could talk on the way home, but I see you’re otherwise occupied. Come to my office at ten sharp on monday morning, Killian. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Swan.”

And with that she left.

#captain swan #cs ff au #cs ff #cs mafia #cs au #my fic #fran against words #serendipitous melody #you don't even know how excited i am for the next two chapters #they are on my top three so far #but considering i still have to write chapter 12 that might not be much ooops #you might be in for some fluff and angst...#wait what am i doing #shhh fran!#spoilers!

15 notes · View notes