#SERAPHINA [SOMETHING MORE THAN ALL SHE EVER WAS] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tanoraqui · 8 months

Note

hey!! i love your blog so much your takes are *chefs kiss*

i saw an Amazing post a few months ago where someone laid out a really cool plan for a silmarillion tv show and i cant find it again. it haunts my every waking moment. i think i saw it on your blog so i figured id ask if you knew it.

Either way, have a great day!

(note: I got this ask several thousand years ago, and am answering it now because I asked my roommates if I should write something serious tonight, or something ridiculous, or read a book; and they said ridiculous.) (note 2: I wrote the above several days ago. I'm posting at 6.5k words) (note 3: I'm going to pretend this is a deliberately timed gift to @thelordofgifs for their latest fic updates, which were bullet points of heartfelt and sober compelling canon divergence. this...is bullet points of [heartfelt? compelling?] lunacy. I hope you might enjoy it.)

Are you thinking of this, the "Supernatural but make it Silmarillion lore, and also women" show of my dreams? (Me, approaching the Tolkien estate with an offer for the rights to the Silmarillion: I swear, I will ONLY show the First Age in limited flashbacks. Everything else will be the characters as they are at least 10,000 years later, maybe even with an active framing device to identify them as modern interpretations of the characters...")

Oh huh, I forgot I thought a bunch more about that "teeechnically-not-AU" and never added it to that post. Regardless of whether it's the show you were thinking of, dear Anon:

one of the protagonists is definitely the reincarnation of Fëanor. Her name is Seraphina, which translates to something like "fiery divine being", bc her mom had a good sense of these things. They don't know this at first

her slightly older twin sister is Martha, named after their grandmother but it does mean the feminine of "master", because I spent at least an hour trying to translate any name Turin ever had into something reasonably modern and this is the best I could do (they also don't know about this reincarnation at first, ofc)

their father was killed by some sort of monster when they were babies so their mother took up monster-hunting ranging, etc. etc.

(the underground community of modern monster-hunters are called Rangers, in reference to the roaming heroes of old)

Seraphina, the Wild One(TM), ran away to go to college, where she double-majored in astrophysics and mechanical engineering and double-minored in linguistics and metallurgical engineering, and wrote an art history thesis. Martha, the Dutiful One(TM), stayed with their mother and kept ranging. They reunite when Martha shows up on Phina's doorstep because "Mom went on a hunting trip and hasn't been home in a few days", etc. etc.

the Bobby-style substitute parent should really, to (kind of) round this out, be a dwarf or hobbit. The full "Team Free Will" should represent all peoples of Arda... But I'm not making up OCs right now (yet)

a unifying legend of the Ranger community is that their unofficial network has been supported and guided for millennia by their cousins, the peredhel, Elrohir and Elladan, who quite simply never Chose and have been wandering the earth, saving people and hunting things, ever since their sister died. They don't NEED to Choose until they die, technically!

This is, in fact, true - or, it was. Until about 25 years ago, when [flips a coin] Elrohir married our heroes' mother, settled down into peaceful domesticity, and a few years later died dramatically to buy [throws a dart at a wheel of names] Laura and their children time to escape the whatever.

Laura knew about his profession and that he was older than he looked, but not his whole deal. She found that out later while vengefully hunting monsters...and never told her daughters.

The plot of Season 1 involves unravelling this mystery, including at some point meeting their elusive uncle Elladan (who has maybe gone a little mad with the sudden death of his twin? That'd be a fun season antagonist/arc/theme...dealing with grief...very topical!)

By the end of s1, all of the above have probably had a nice closure-giving(-ish) confrontation/conversation with Elrohir's ghost - who's been waiting in Mandos for his wife and/or brother despite Mandos's INCREASINGLY strident blandishments to stop acting like a cat in a doorway and choose - and Laura and Elladan are both dead in suitably dramatic circumstances.

...or, Elladan is. Apparently John Winchester didn't die until s2e1! So, what happens is:

- (earlier in the s1 finale episode, Laura, noticed something once or twice which her daughters didn't - saw a curl of smoke, seemed to be examining a McGuffin extra closely...)

- Laura has been mildly injured, and someone needs to guard a McGuffin or maybe a random innocent civilian caught up in this, so she stays behind while Phina and Martha go off to deal with whatever the actual big bad of the season is. Maybe a cult trying to sacrifice half-elves for some reason? Directed, though not personally managed, by whatever killed Elrohir in the first place, which is...I gotta figure an OC balrog? Like, not one of the big ones from canon. We'll just call her (Laura's) Bane henceforth.

- not long later, while Phina and Martha are fistbumping in the remains of the cult's hideout Seraphina maybe have used chemical explosives), or maybe discretely looting Elladan's body for useful weapons laying their uncle to rest, the scene cuts back to Laura

- she's pacing, patrolling. Ready for a fight. She senses something and goes even tenser, drawing her ancient sword. It glows softly blue - but this is no orc. Heavy footsteps, flickering shadows and firelight, maybe the sound of wings. We do not see the enemy, just a middle-aged woman in improvised combat gear with a pistol in one hand and a Gondolin-made sword in the other, and a look of iron determination and defiance. She pulls off the bandage on her arm, revealing that she'd faked her injury so the girls would leave her behind.

- "I knew it was you," she greets her old enemy, unflinching, as a faint reprise rings unnoticed in the Great Music. She moves to attack, met by a whip-crack and a flash of fire, and cut to black.

Season 2 starts where s1 ended, for Martha and Seraphina. They're almost back at their car (the beloved 1967 Chevy Shadowfax). Note: few times in s1, Phina has had strange visions or nightmares, never anything prophetic but once a good clue to defeating the MotW...

She reels with the force and horror of this one. Darkness, utter and choking, pierced eventually by a single desperate torch. A dark and empty hall where there should be life and light. Flickering firelight reveals blood on the floor...

She gasps, "Mom," and demands that Martha drive, drive, fucking drive faster already -

They're too late, of course. Laura is long-since dead.

...so, back to Monster of the Week, with additional focus on tracking down the Bane!

Seraphina's strange dreams and visions get more frequent, more memorable. Sometimes they're peaceful, full of beautiful Light. More often they're dark, or at least, dim - climbing strange, starlit mountains (finding a cousin of aconite which turns out to also be useful for defeating werewolves). Choking grief as her hand brushes the air just above a vibrant tapestry, too afraid to ruin it with touch. Fire in her throat as she shouts world-shaking words in a language she doesn't remember (she repeats them a moment later, fending off a corrupted wind-spirit, and it flinches even before Phina feels a burst of vicious, raging, burning strength.)

Seraphina is curious as hell and keeps pushing herself to learn more, see more. Do more. It's not just visions, eventually - she starts to read minds, here and there. She's always been a fidgeter, happiest with some petty creative task of wire and beads or yarn in her hands, but now she can swear that sometimes her craft supplies sing at times, directly surpassing her ears, and she can make things with quality, with power. A new-knitted scarf is sturdy as a gorget. Glass beads glow. The more Phina does, the more she's frustrated rather than satisfied - she knows she's missing something, and she HATES being ignorant. Being wrong.

Martha, always the responsible one, especially feeling the need to be so now that their mom has died, wishes she would stop. Wishes she wouldn't put herself, put both of them, in danger like this. Martha is literally game to fight an orc with her fists one on one, any day of the week; she's no stranger to a quick temper and impulsive action. But she grew up! Why can't her sister!

(Martha: [venting the above to a stranger in a bar or something. Meanwhile, Seraphina has found an medieval Songbook and is trying to, like, apply principals of Elvencraft to chemical engineering. more arguing ensues.])

Toward the end of the season, there's, idk, several murders at the site of a geothermal drilling experiment in the North Sea, and oh shit, Bane is trying to get something that came out of that drill shaft! Violent interrogation of some evil minions reveals that it's no less precious thing than a Silmaril! Our heroes read about those recently in some ancient tome! (Phina got a headache so bad, and a sense of being aflame, that she passed out.)

In the third-to-last episode of the season, they hunt the Silmaril to the unlucky random research facility to which it's been taken. Mundane authorities and/or scientists are already coveting it as a potential energy source, adding extra mooks...who mostly just die when Laura's Bane arrives. But our girls get to it just slightly faster. The jewel is in a jead-lined box. Phina has been increasingly consumed by single-minded focus on getting this thing; even as the Ban storms in all fire and darkness, she's furiously picking the lock. She flings back the lid; we see a shining gold-white jewel - and the Light consumes the screen.

The second-to-last episode starts with pure Light - then it fades to simple Mingling, as the Noldor hold a funeral for Miriel. They had rites for the fallen in their starlit home of old, when they knew no return. They are having a modified version now, knowing that in her weariness she will, at least, take a very long time; in the hope that it will help those who loved her move through their grief.

- young Fëanor (age 5ish), tears running down his cheeks, whispers to his father that he is sorry, so sorry he killed her. Finwë denies it fiercely, lovingly, and holds him tight. Indis approaches, seeking to offer comfort; Finwë sees her over Fëanor's head and, gratefully, shakes his head. She retreats.

- but in the next memory, it is Fëanor (age 10ish) who watches Finwë and Indis, as they move joyously in unison around their wedding dance floor. Someone says something to him, he responds bitterly.

- (I'm not sure exactly what narrative of Fëanor's life I want to construct here, but assume subsequent memories/short scenes include: dislike of half-siblings (ft. fear of loss/abandonment masked as superiority complex), finding genuine joy and contentment in craft, exploration, and Nerdanel & their children; Melkor & rising tensions with Fingolfin, the Silmarils, the sword Incident, banishment (ft. savage dislike of Valar), Finwë's death (the same memory that struck when Laura died!), the Oath, Alqualondë, the theft and burning of the ships...and Amrod...and shortly thereafter, Fëanor himself, in a rush that only wasn't suicide because he really thought he could bust in and kill a Vala right up until he realized he absolutely could not do that.)

- (very fast final montage of key events post death, only snapshots, maybe styled as tapestry seen from Vairë's Halls? Fingolfin, crowned, raising Maedhros from a bow and embracing him; the glorious hosts and castles of the Noldor, Dagor Bragollach, Fingolfin's death, Doriath & Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin's deaths, Sirion & Amras's death (both with the Silmaril evading them in the background), Morgoth's defeat by Host of the West with Eärendil shining far overhead, the final attack/theft, Maedhros's death, Maglor flinging the third into the sea and collapsing)

- camera close on Seraphina's face as she opens her eyes. They are shining with Light. She says, "Fuck."

FINAL EPISODE OF S2 STARTS WITH:

- a few second earlier: Martha sees from across the room as Phina opens the box and a joyous Light shines forth, and her sister collapses. The Silmaril falls and rolls.

- Martha doesn't have time to see where it rolls, because she has to fight the monster that killed both her parents. We've seen Laura's Bane in the shape of a woman with cavern-black hair and fiery eyes a few times before, and when it killed Laura and Elrohir, we glimpsed much more. But 2 episodes ago was the first time we saw it in all its terrible, burning darkness. The building is falling apart around it. There were a couple security guards and a scientist here; they're dead within moments.

- like her mother, Martha started out with a gun and a sword. She quickly gives up on the gun - it IS a special magic gun, but she's just better with a sword. She's snarking at the monster as she fights, because this is a gritty urban fantasy show so she's going to die, but by Eru she's going to die with sarcasm on her lips.

- the Bane's whip finally catches her around the wrist. It's not clear if it's the pain of the break or the burn that makes her drop her sword. The Balrog steps over it and grabs her by the throat. Darkness enwraps her, the searing, choking claws and the all-encompassing wings and the swallowing of her vision -

- Light pierces it like a blade. The Balrog falls back, dropping Martha to the floor.

- there stands her sister, Silmaril raised, almost glowing herself with its Light. Her eyes blaze with the particularly fiery Light that was always Fëanor's.

- Power in her voice, in English she says, "I am Seraphina Elrohiel [cool epithet she's picked up as a hunter]"; in the most traditional lisping Quenya she adds, "and I am Fëanáro Finwë-Curufinwë." English again: "I wrought this jewel five ages of the world ago…and to be honest, I don't really know what I can do with it now."

- - (the soundtrack crescendos, the Music crescendos; unseen, all around Arda and beyond, beings tuned into the Great Song of Ëa know that Fëanor once again holds a Silmaril, and go oh, shit, fuck!!)

- she smiles, fey and burning. "Do you think it's a good idea to stay and find out?"

- Laura's Bane flees with a snarl.

- Martha gets to her knees, and no further. She's panting, still catching her breath, bleeding and bruised and burned, and staring up at her incandescent sister(?).

- Seraphina (who is, has always been, Fëanáro Curufinwë) stays standing and glaring for a moment more, making sure the enemy has truly gone. Then -

- - [note: it came up, in their hasty recent recent research into the Silmarils while chasing them, that they are blessed such that evil hands can't touch them. they'd hoped this would be protection against the Bane, if they got there too late to stop it]

- - [note: in the very very brief memory-views of Maedhros and Maglor's last moments, it was clear that their grips on the Silmarils were agony]

- Phina falls to her knees, Silmaril dropping from her hand without protest. Once again it rolls offscreen, glow faded but still bright. All force of presence gone, she cradles her burned hand and sobs in agony and irreparable loss, not to mention the sheer overwhelming experience of everything.

- older sister instincts (again: despite the fact that they're twins) gets Martha moving when nothing else did. Still not actually sure what just happened, she crawls forward and hugs her sister.

...then they get out of there. Martha picks the Silmaril up carefully with a piece of cloth and puts it back in the lead-lined box, and Phina carries the box. For the rest of the episode, they hunt down Laura's Bane before it can escape them utterly - unless it tries to come back and get the Silmaril while they're still off-balance, which is entirely possible! Either way, they kill it so dead!

Season ends with the two of them sitting in a dingy motel room, or maybe back in the Shadowfax [car], staring at the Silmaril box. Martha says, "So...what do we do with this?" Phina says, "We find out what the hell happened to the other two!"

IN SEASON THREE...

...I stop having particularly coherent ideas for what happens, is what happens in season three

honestly, I was originally conceiving of this as 5 seasons a la Supernatural didn't it have a great show finale in 2010? so great. thank goodness they didn't make 10 more seasons for some canonically godforsaken reason. But Fëanor retrieving even just one Silmaril would so kick off an s4 level of divine intervention and incipient apocalypse...

I dunno, or maybe they CAN have a full season of Monster of the Week plus arcing plot which is half standard hunting, half various supernatural entities tracking them down either to steal the Silmaril or to kill Fëanor (again) for her many crimes?

They retrieve 1 Silmaril that season, while evading, idk, I guess Sauron is our Lilith equivalent... And it WOULD be fun to have s4 start with Martha kicking open Mandos's doors (she's holding 2 Silmarils; she can kick open whatever doors she wants) and demanding her obnoxious sister back...

(We COULD do a thing where the Valar deliberately put Fëanor back asap, but lbr they...would probably rather not, even if they need her alive to do certain things. On the other hand, if they did, what a fun conflict for her! On the third hand, SOMEONE has to Lúthien the other's Beren at least once - not that Martha is singing. She's going more for the 'threatens Ainur with swords' side of her heritage.)

(That WOULD create a fun 'Martha has been doing increasingly badass and angsty shit offscreen (while Seraphina was dead)' scenario that could lead smoothly into some flashbacks about what Martha was doing before the show started - namely, increasingly badass (and angsty) shit while Seraphina was in college...)

Because in terms of focus, the first 2 seasons are a little more about Seraphina. Having not Ranged for a while, she's more the audience's pov character to start, and then the big plotty drama is focussed on her in s2...and in s3, as they hunt the next Silmaril and she adjusts to being... That is, Fëanor adjusts to being...

She was Fëanor for a MUCH longer time than she's been Seraphina, but she's been Seraphina more recently and kinda more...vividly? She hasn't fully processed being Fëanor. Her hröa is human (and female-shaped and human-female-gendered, and elves don't define gender the same way and don't have gendered pronouns at all, so she's sticking with 'she/her' and it's not a big deal), and her fëa has been acting human, so her memory capacity is still mostly human, as are her reflexes, her need for sleep, etc... She's getting better, but it takes time.

But boy has this enhanced ALL of Seraphina's natural attention-seeking, forward-leaping, fight-starting, prideful, self-centered Protagonist(TM) behavior!

Which is driving Martha CRAZY, all the moreso because there's reason for it now. Aside from the fact that even with no memory of her past life, Seraphina was always brilliant, while Martha was just...normal at best. Clumsy and un-witty except with a weapon in her hand. Prone to sulking and shyness. Downright unlucky, while the universe seems to shower blessings on her sister.

Even when Fëanor is trying not to start a fight, she's so condescending. to her sister who is a mere mortal Man. Having been one for 25-odd years - still being one, in fact - Fëanor has lost much of her suspicion of Man as an usurping species (it was never really about Men anyway). But she's SO condescending.

(Martha IS her sister, still. Martha can hold the Silmaril without the Oath pushing Seraphina to burning wrath, because she is Fëanor's kin.)

(Though "Fëanor's kin" was only ever a stand-in for, roughly, "people Fëanor could trust to temporarily hold a Silmaril because he knew they'd give it back to him instantly if he asked." So, as the rift deepens between then, as she grows paranoid again...)

...returning to the point above: as Seraphëanor steps up as Person Who Can Explain Advanced Supernatural Shit, audience pov connects a little more with Martha. Also because Fëanor's radius of destruction is really fun to watch from the outside.

Yeah...Seraphina gets pretty high up her own ass over the course of s3, then dies, maybe heroically or maybe as foolishly as last time, then post-season hiatus smash cut to Martha kicking in Mandos's front door and dragging her back to life... I do love that.

SEASON FOUR...

After the shock wears of, the classic Fëanorian paranoia isn't helped by the fact that Martha IS keeping secrets. What she's been doing, who she's been doing it with...(some Maia, maybe even an Úmaia?) Though Arda's mythology doesn't have the same Heaven/Hell dichotomy as Earthly Christianity, so alaos we can't have the sexy sexy s4 thing of an angel on one sister's shoulder and a devil on the other's...

But basically I think s3 has to have been somewhat of a tragedy, as Túrin (unknowing) and Fëanor (just bad at this) played out their old tragedies in tandem. Rashness was often the undoing of both. Leaping to conclusions, action or both, though usually in opposite directions. With maybe a dash of parallels with ancient (ie, Second Age) Elf vs Man conflict - Martha is increasingly down on herself, but also, jealous of Seraphina's Protagonist Energy and increasingly ready to do some violence about it.

And none of that resolves in s3! Seraphina just gets killed!

So in s4, they have to figure it out. Seraphina needs to learn some sort of (gasp) humility, and how to let grievances (and loved ones) go. Martha needs to learn how to cope with regret and grief with means other than changing her name and moving to a different city.

(She's already starting, though! This time, she asked "what would Seraphina do', then broke into Mandos and demanded solutions!)

(...and Mandos, perhaps, was very ready to refuse until he got a good look at her fëa, silently went 'huh' in recognition, and waved them out.)

Then Martha starts having strange dreams and visions - maybe after they fight an ancient dragon? or maybe she already was, in the s3-s4 gap (after fighting an ancient dragon with her new Maia friend?)

Seraphina is initially PSYCHED about this- twinnies for real!! But they get some entity to look at Martha's fëa and they confirm that she's 100% a Man.

Monster of the Week episodes are still the main focus btw. Vampires and werewolves, cursed magical objects, rogue petty nature maiar, peacekeeping between factions of non-humans still dwelling secretly here and there... Though perhaps the masquerade is starting to fracture?

And, of course, some (other?) Maia has shown up and informed them that Sauron is embodied again and trying to complete a ritual to break a hole in the envelope of the world to let Melkor back in, which our heroes must stop!

Also, definitely need to get the 3rd Silmaril back this season. They got the one in the earth and the one in the sea...

- so, a fan favorite recurring character [a/n: IT'S MY IMAGINARY TV, I CAN IMAGINE THE FANDOM'S REACTIONS, TOO, AND ALSO TBH I'M CERTAIN I COULD DELIBERATELY CRAFT A FAN FAVORITE CHARACTER] is the twins' Uncle Earl, who isn't technically their uncle but rather an old family friend of their mother's. He is, in short, kind of an old kook. Some flavor of Southern - I'll flip a coin and say Louisianan? Lives on a houseboat, refuses to go ashore unless absolutely necessary because "the feds'll get me." Visiting nieces means there's someone else to go get groceries and gasoline (necessary, but he doesn't trust most delivery services or modern technology, either), so they've possibly never seen him set foot on land except maybe once on an isolated beach in rural Oregon. Fought in Korea. Has probably looked grizzled since age 12. Eats mostly fish, talks to birds, talks back to the radio.

- to be clear, this guy is not filling the Bobby 'faux-parent' role. ...okay maybe he is a little, emotionally. But he's not involved in "the family business." In terms of SPN characters, he's roughly Garth - appears once a season or so, is a delight for 1 episode, then we part ways. He calls Martha in s1 because there's been some "weird deaths" in the port he's in right now, and he knows they deal with "this sort of thing" but he can't get ahold of Laura. There's a mention of him in s2, that they called to tell him Laura had died. In s3, they need to lay low for a while so they join him on his boat for a few weeks, go stir-crazy and end up fighting a sea monster.

- Idk if he calls them again in s4 or they're trying to lie low again or they just run into him by chance...but they're dealing with MotW murders in some swampy Florida shore-town and on his ship (The Flower) when something much bigger than a swamp monster catches up with them. Say, Sauron sent an unstoppable Carcharoth-sized wolf monster, or maybe a super-vampire (some aerial combat would be fun), or just some Úmaia miniboss that a season or two would've been a season-climax boss fight...

- they're moored up when it arrives. Phina curses, Martha shouts for Earl to drive, drive the boat out as far and fast as he can! Earl was half-asleep at the table; he starts awake demanding if it's the feds?! Phina leaps to the wheel herself and slams the gas, while Martha grabs the old shotgun off the wall and fires at the giant shadowy wolf-monster.

They leave it howling on the pier. They'll have to go back and face it eventually, but they're not ready right now. Maybe they can even re-land far upshore, and it'll have lost their scent again...

- the giant shadow-wolf finishes howling starts chasing them running on the water

- Martha curses, and shouts Phina to drive faster. Earl (looking over Martha's shoulder, also cursed, almost impressed, at the sight of the wolf) tells her to give him the wheel. Phina shoves him away and shouts back as she yanks the wheel that they need to turn back, they can't win this fight on the water -

- the wolf is snapping at the Flower's keel. Phina curses in Valarian and yells at Earl to take the wheel and steer them back to land, while she runs back to help Martha fight the wolf.

- Earl flips a red lever in the [boat mechanics] cabinet under the wheel which we've probably seen before (Seraphina fixed something in s1), labeled "High Octane" and shouts, "Hold on, girls!" He slams the throttle again and the whole houseboat hydroplanes. The wolf falls overboard; Phina goes with it but Martha grabs her.

- the wolf gets to its feet on the water, and starts chasing them again

- "Confession time, girls!" Uncle Earl calls, steering the boat beyond full throttle while Martha and Phina get to their feet. "I did befriend your ma's dad while he was fighting in Korea. He whispered to the stars at night, when he felt lost." Adjusts a standing spyglass, tugs a string a couple times to turn on the lanterns on the prow and above the steering console, dons his navy blue-and-gold captain's hat. "I thought I couldn't have been happier to guide him home - then Elrohir met his Laura, and they fell in love. And had the two of you!"

- "Do you have a point?" Phina shrieks. She's scrambling to get her jacket out of her bag under one of the seats, because her Silmarils are in its pockets and the shadow-wolf is gaining. Martha, shooting at the wolf again, glances back, maybe having noticed that the old anecdote is phrased differently than before. Old Uncle Earl is standing unusually straight, his grizzled-gray hair gold-ish in the warm lantern light.

- "Yes!" he calls, jerking the boat away from the wolf again. Some of his Louisiana accent has fallen away, too. "Don't lose your wits - and keep holding on to something!"

- he tugs the light-cord again and the yellowy lantern-case above the wheel opens, and the light that shines forth is far brighter and paler. Its source falls into his hand as the lantern shakes with the Flower's speed, and he sets it on the brim of his hat - the illusion of which fades, leaving only the golden band on his brow with the Silmaril set upon, and Eärendil standing as tall, young, and golden-haired as when he first sailed the sacred seas. He gives the wheel another stern yank and the ship's prow rises even higher - and keeps rising, with the rest of the Flower in tow - the Foamflower, Vingilotë, every plank now aglow.

- "Also," he admits, looking over his shoulder to make sure neither of the twins has fallen off (again), "I'm your great-grandfather. I really am sorry to have - hey!"

- that's for Seraphina, who is Fëanor, Oath blazing in her heart, regaining her balance, sprinting up the deck and lunging with wrath in her eyes for the Silmaril.

- Eärendil dodges smoothly, while still keeping one hand on the wheel. "I said," he says reprovingly - while Martha bodily tackles her sister to the floor - "keep your wits Fëanáro. I'm here to help, as I ever have been for the people of Arda."

- the girls wrestle on the deck for a few more seconds before Seraphina calms down. It helps that they realize the wolf had grown giant wings of shadow and is chasing them aloft as well.

- btw: late in s4, the dwarvish researcher who's Bobby's fill-in and/or Martha's probably-trustworthy Maia friend should really be present as well for all of the above, but this ain't really about them. So I think they're just kinda. awkwardly Present for this family not-reunion. helping fight the wolf & all that.

- (Eärendil doesn't actually give back the Silmaril. But he lets Seraphina hold it for a few minutes, during which she is more at peace than she has been in millennia, and promises to let her have it again if/when she really needs it, if it isn't more urgently needed elsewhere. This is, more or less, satisfying to the Oath: as discussed "Fëanor's kin" was only ever shorthand for "people whom Fëanor could trust to hold a Silmaril without ever withholding it from him.")

Eeexcept it turns out that even Eärendil doesn't know that the Valar DO want Morgoth back, because they're kinda totally down to have Dagor Dagorath and reboot the world. Look it'll be great - Túrin - that's you, Martha - will help Eonwë and Tulkas slay him, then Fëanor will break the Silmarils, releasing the Light so that Eru can use it to Remake the world, Unmarred this time - Hey, where are you Children going? Stop stabbing people! Stab only the people we tell you to stab!

(Ulmo, ever wise, offscreen: When has that EVER worked? Especially with Fëanáro and his kin?)

Yeah, there's a scene very much like the end of SPN s4, wherein Martha gets grabbed by the celestial "good guys" and they admit that this is all kinda set-up but don't worry - here's your destined fuckoff-huge black sword, just wait a few minutes for your "sister" to once again achieve an evil end that's the exact opposite of what she intended; and then Martha has to convince the Maia she's been befriending all season to help her escape and go rescue Seraphina before she jumpstarts the apocalypse...

(Nb: Martha was already trying to stop Sauron from freeing Morgoth when the season started - she broke Seraphina out of Mandos party bc she loved and missed her sister, partly because she needed a Silmaril expert. But she's grown skeptical of the task somehow, while Seraphina - perhaps because Seraphina - has gotten vengefully obsessed with it. As Fëanor is wont to do. Hell, she has even more reason than she used to - she knows what Sauron did to her grandson.)

So, y'know

They do, of course, accidentally free Morgoth.

On the plus side, in the process, they get to jointly murder the SHIT out of Sauron, who was the REAL mastermind behind much of Laura's Bane's actions (and, honestly? Might've been the real one who killed Laura, and only set it up to look like a Balrog. Flames and shadows both can have many masters!)

SEASON FIVE, THE FINAL SEASON DEFINITELY FOLLOWED BY NO FURTHER SEASONS despite the temptation of a terrible sexy humanoid Ungoliant

I only have 3 ideas for season 5:

1. They go to Valinor at some point, of course. Perhaps to rally aid? The first elf they find, they introduce themselves grandly, Fëanor and Túrin Turambar here seeking allies to fight Morgoth! and the elf says blankly, "I have never heard of either of you." *squints* "You're Men, you say? Lord Ulmo keeps a Man on Tol Eressëa, I think. You could go to him?" But after that, as a running joke all episode, every other elf they meet recognizes Fëanor on sight (she has a very distinctive fëa) and immediately punches her in the face...and every other elf recognizes Tùrin on sight and all but tackle-hugs Martha while shouting joyfully that they never expected to see him again. Some (Beleg) actually do tackle-hug her (and nearly gets stabbed again) (#worthit).

2. To everyone's surprise, including the other Valar, Morgoth started his war upon creation subtly when he returned...but doesn't remain subtle for long, nor do those opposing him. By the end of the season, the masquerade that non-human sentient peoples and various other supernatural beings still live in Arda is all but shattered.

3. Then it's THOROUGHLY shattered in the finale. I don't know if the general human populace participates in the final battle - though I am SO weak for a moment when, like, the regular-ass armed forces, who are not necessarily allies to the heroes, show up to help fight a massive superhuman threat. When the SHIELD helicarrier shows up to evacuate civilians in Age of Ultron, when UNIT does pretty much anything in Doctor Who...I love it when the best protections & warriors the mundane human race could pull together also show the fuck up and help save the day because damnit, this is their planet too. ...Which is, in fact, very on-theme for Tolkien. So yes, actually, this definitely happens. Probably there's some conflict with US military forces mid-season, our heroes have to talk (fight & escape) their way out of being arrested for blowing up a national landmark while fighting a balrog, and the general in charge whom they'd half-convinced returns in the finale with a battalion to slam some missiles into Morgoth...

oh, and 4: Ar-Pharazón et al totally do come back from the dead. Probably on Morgoth's side lbr. They get a twisted undead immortality wherein they cannot die, just go on fighting for the dark lord to whom they once turned in jealous worship...

More importantly...

Okay, I really don't know exactly how the Dagor Dagorath goes. We're following the version that Eärendil will chase Morgoth from the skies; Tulkas, Eonwë and Túrin will fight him upon the field and Túrin will avenge his House and all the Race of Men by slaying him; and Fëanor will break the Silmarils and Yavanna will use their Light to remake the Trees, and the lands will be leveled or in some cases raised from the depths, and everyone will live happily ever after except possibly Men who aren't mentioned beyond Túrin.

This is what the Valar expect to happen (though they don't actually know-know Eru's plans.)

What happens instead is...

Most of the Morgoth-defeating does go exactly like that. Except probably they don't kill him for good - they CAN'T, because the Marring of the world is part of what Morgoth is, and the only way to undo him completely is to remake the world completely.

Which maybe could be done, by Eru if no one else, if He were beseeched? Which might be done with the strength of the Silmarils, their Light released?

And Seraphina does break the Silmarils. That's important for her - giving up her Protagonist role, just as slaying Morgoth - embracing her Protagonist role - is important for Martha.

...but I don't think they give the Light back to Yavanna. No offense to the Trees, but they never illuminated most of Arda anyway, and the world is round now anyway - and making it flat again would fuck it up - and we have, like, electrical lights, now.

Hell, maybe Seraphina is ready to give up the Light... Her instinct is to hold it back, to follow her own novel plans with it, but, oh, to regain what was lost! And she has come around on...some of the Valar. Selectively. Yavanna's one of the okay ones.

- but Martha, half-dead from the battle, drops to her knees beside her and catches her hands before she can loose the Light upward unto the grasp of the Tree-Queen.

- "Together?" Martha says (Túrin Turambar, ever the greatest Men had to offer - bull-headed, loyal, brave, unafraid of death, loving and losing and loving again).

- Seraphina's trembling lips curve into a fierce grin (Fëanäro Curufinwë, ever the greatest Elves had to offer - brilliant in mind and spirit, devoted, ever seeking to preserve and glorify the beauty of the world, and eventually learning some wisdom about letting go).

- "Together," she agrees.

- together, they hold the Light that once shone in the Trees, the Lamps, and the Flame Eternal of Creation itself; and as they release it, reach for the Great Music of Ëa that is deep in both their blood - for they are the daughters of Elrohir, son of Elrond, son of Elwing daughter of Dior son of Lúthien Tinúviel, daughter of Melian the Maia; and indeed, even before that, they are both trueborn Children of Eru, are they not? - and eschew utterly the Choice of the Peredhel by leaving the world round but Un-Sundering the Sea, that the kindred might still live apart, if they wished it - the Elder in their land undying, the Younger in their realms of quick and sometimes joyful, often savage change - but that they might visit one another, at least, as they pleased.

(I mean, wasn't the false division of siblings the whole problem from the start?)

Random Additional Features of this Show/AU/Thing

All elf and ainu side characters, canonical and not, will be cast gender-blindly, and characters referred to with the understanding that elvish personal pronouns don't necessarily correlate with physical phenotype, but Ainur do generally try to match local standards of gender assignment. Dwarves will all use he/him (and have beards!) even when fairly clearly female.

I have no idea what Martha is doing for gender once she remembers being Túrin. With all the time Túrin spent with Elves, she probably rolls pretty smoothly with being she/her now, though it's weird. Her memories definitely integrate more easily than Fëanor/Seraphina's, though, as much because she's the same kind of being both times as because there's less of them.

Both protagonists are definitely bisexual. Martha has a range of love interests; it's a running joke (at first) that Seraphina has a total Thing for redheads. Any kind of redhead. But especially creative ones - any kind of art or invention.

The role of Gabriel WILL be played by Maglor, albeit with a different death (don't worry, he'll be back for the finale) and much more...gloominess. And angst. Okay, and maybe his first appearance, in s1 or 2, IS cursing them - not knowing who they are - into a musical episode. (A WOMAN HAS NEEDS; THE WOMAN IS ME.)

When Martha meets Fingolfin and/or any of Fëanor's other siblings, probably in s5 but maybe s4, they immediately Vibe completely. It's the shared experience of growing up with Fëanor for a sibling. Needless to say, Seraphina Hates This.

Their chief researcher friend is a dwarf, who is also on the young-ish side I think, and a woman (he/him).

There's gotta be a notable hobbit on the Team before the end, too...but overall, hobbits remain symbolically representative of the Civilians in this war story.

Durin is alive again somewhere. Durin usually reincarnates in time to guide his people through particularly difficult times - or, to try. Their dwarf friend - what the hell, I'll just call him Bobby - tries SO hard to be Cool about meeting him, and fails SO hard.

I generally prefer to judge and characterize the Valar and associated Maiar as fallible to the point of clumsiness or negligence but basically wise and thoroughly benevolent...but I AM willing to throw some of them under the characterization bus for ease of making conflict in this hypothetical CW show.

...I probably have many more random thoughts but it's 3am and I want to post this whole insane thing. Feel free to ask me questions if you have them! And/or petition both the Tolkien estate and a major TV network for the rights, money, and support to help me make the terrible but wonderful show we deserve!

#the silmarillion #supernatural #my fic #feanor #turin turambar

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deva-arts · 1 month

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...Natan..? 🥸💙🩵🗨🧟‍♂️🫂

ok.

It took a lot of coaxing to get her to take a break at last.

She purses her lips together, holding him tighter where they lay atop the covers. Her fingers knit themselves into the fabric of his loosely fit sweater as though he were mere moments from slipping between her fingers.

He holds her just as snugly, one arm wrapped around her frame with the other atop her hair as he softly pet her head. She had been uncharacteristically clingy for the past week, leaving for shorter periods of time, checking in on him and the others more often, sleeping less and less, swamped in work to distract herself… There was always something more to do, and always a pressing matter to ignore her wellbeing over.

The Overseer's invasion of their base wasn’t the first danger they had all faced, nor would it ever be the first time their little group of misfits found themselves so close to death.

But this was the first time in a long time that she looked so petrified, even after the events ended with them victorious.

No… This time her thoughts echoed, like a dull, intolerable ache. A chronic, ghastly pain that only grew with time: one of loss, regret, and fear.

Immense, roiling, turbulent, consuming fear, like that of a man being hunted by starved wolves and cornered at every turn.

Her countenance was grim, yet controlled. Measured, as she always was. Her tolerance for discomfort was always far too great for her own good.

He holds her tighter, trying to avoid jostling the bandaging on her torso. She shuts her eyes, resting her head on his chest.

He still feels the lingering effects of using his powers on so many people; his very psyche felt like an overstretched canvas, covered in an incomprehensible mess of colors and forms. Even a week later, he felt the stains. Wounds too, some shallow, others grisly from his exhausting efforts to fight back the hordes with any form he could muster. It’d been a long time since he’s ever had to do these things.

He worked tirelessly, day and night, just to treat the worst of the injuries sustained in the battle. Perhaps his vow was more harmful than he thought. Had he not neglected his abilities, Nathaniel would've had a greater outcome in protecting them all. The only thing he could do was put them back together.

Her hand brushes a tender spot on his side, where a ghoulish morph-type wretch had clawed through. He winces and she jolts her hand away.

“I’m sorry, I forgot-" She hushes out, concerned.

“It’s alright, you didn’t mean it.” He says.

“It doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. I’m sorry.”

“...I forgive you, Snooks.” Nathaniel sighed; this wasn’t just about his injuries.

“…”

Sera exhales shakily, her hand pulling into a fist as she moved it away.

“I…” She begins to say, with her normally authoritative voice thick and hushed. “…I truly… Truly don’t know what I would do without you.”

…Ah.

“Nathaniel.. I…” She exhales forcefully to try and hide the hiccupping stutter- her telltale sign of crying as she swallowed back the tears. He rubs comforting strokes along her back, fingers smoothing down the mantle of feathers.

“I can’t lose you.” She says.

‘Too’ is what she stops herself from saying, if only because the present was already too taxing to think about, and the past would capsize the delicate thread of composure she kept. Seraphina was the kind of person that held herself together by keeping the bare minimum of her sentiments in a little jar, refusing to let it overflow. Said jar was cracking under the pressure. Perhaps it was just one squeeze away.

He doesn’t know what to say. For once, he has no idea how console her, or even soothe her worries. The Overseer was not dead, maybe it never would die.

The world would always have troops, variants and beasts to throw at them. The people in their five man wonder were not immortal.

He doesn’t know how they’ll escape this situation, either. This wasn’t isolated to one city. Not even one country; their reach was worldwide.

He doesn’t even know if she’ll come back alive most nights. Nathaniel could only pray and keep praying.

Nathaniel remains silent- it’s the only merciful response in a situation as catastrophic as this.

She knows this too. She blessedly doesn’t expect him to have the answers.

Seraphina lets out a long, beaten sigh, her voice low. “…Sometimes I think about it. A world where you don’t exist. Where you’re… You’re gone, and I’m left to pick up the pieces.”

Nathaniel closes his eyes, hugging her a little closer. After that day… She likely thought that would be the case.

“Each time, I’m shattered, Nathaniel. Just the thought of that happening alone destroys me.”

“Ser…”

“And each time… Despite what I have to do… Despite everything I worked towards, and all of the people in our group, and all of my responsibilities… The first thought that comes to my head when I think that…” It’s here that she hiccups, not bothering to restrain her grip on his sweater as it balls into an ugly furl.

He hears the words before she says it, but even then it makes his blood halt to a chilled stop.

“Is that I’d rather die.” She breathes, only to sob. “Right there, right then.”

The jar broke.

She grows quiet, reigning in her emotions despite her voice betraying it all.

“I’m tired… I’m so tired, Nathaniel.”

“Sera…”

“I’m tired of being strong. I’m tired of always being in so many ordeals. I’m tired of waking up at all.”

She raises her voice, her grievances channeled into anger.

“And you know what? It’s always just something new, some fresh steaming pile of shit dumped on me every day. ‘Let’s see what more she can take! She’s got it under control!’”

“And then they call me selfish! Selfish, when my entire life has just been a living nightmare! When I can’t do anything and you’re all minutes from being torn apart! Did I deserve this? Did I offend some uncaring God? Why am I still alive at this point?!" Her tone is harsh, and it echoes against the walls. Then, she breathes, and silence once again fills the room like mercury in water.

Nathaniel feels like he’s been cored out and scraped bare. His chest felt tight, panging dully at her words. He doesn’t let go of her- he doesn’t dare to, feeling her exhaustion take hold of her again as she lay in the crook of his arm. Defeated.

“The only thing keeping me going has been all of you. But… If I lose you… I…"

He stares at the ceiling, both empty and stretched thin, absently running his fingers through the plumes on her back.

“Let’s run away, Ser.” He says, ignoring how she coils at the suggestion.

“What...?”

His tone is level. “Let’s leave. All of us, we find a safe place to go, and leave this place behind.”

She remains silent.

“You won’t have to do any of this anymore. I can easily go back to work elsewhere if we need funds. I’m sure the others can contribute as well. We can go somewhere nice, somewhere hidden, where everyone can be safe. They won’t chase us anymore. We’ll be fine.”

There is a pregnant pause, the words lingering in the air, clinging to the walls. Nathaniel musters the energy to glance at her, curious to see her expression.

Seraphina merely looks back, and for once, he can see the void reflected in them, with little left to mask it. Then, she closes her eyes, curving a warm, tattered wing over his frame.

“…Stop lying, Nathaniel.”

“…”

They don’t talk further- they had nothing more to say.

The long night is desolate and overbearing.

#devarambles #nathanieltag #seraphinatag #Even better than notes: Writing!#devawrites #ARK_SYSTEMA

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dreamer213 · 4 months

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Broken Machines: Between The Shadows

Chapter 11: Talk To Me

Penny: I’m sorry but could you repeat that?

Penny asked, sitting upright in her bed. She had just woken up and hadn’t even gotten out of bed to wash up yet, pajamas and fluffy bedhead evidence to this as she stares intently at her scroll while on a video call with her boyfriend. Said boyfriend sighs softly before repeating his statement as instructed.

Whitley: My father forced me on a dinner date so he could a campaign donation out of the girl’s father.

He says matter of factly, knowing there was no real way to sugarcoat that information.

Penny: I see, that's what I thought you said….…WHAT!

She screams, absolutely outraged by what she just heard! Penny already had a low opinion of Jacques Schnee for his personality, actions, and overall demeanor. Truly there was no one Penny thought worse than him and yet every time she heard more about him her disdain for him grew. She wouldn’t say she hated him really, that was too strong of a word, but her patience for the crooked businessman was wearing thinner by the day.

Penny: What is wrong with him!!! How could he do that without your permission?!

Whitley: He’s a schemer, he’ll use any and every tool at his disposal to get what he wants. The girl wanted time with me, and her father had something my father wanted, so he made it happen.

Penny: But you’re his son, his biological family!

Whitley: And both titles are not mutually exclusive. At least in my case.

He states completely nonchalantly as per usual, acting utterly unaffected by the disrespect he’d received from his primary parental figure. Penny’s about to argue but can feel a hiccup coming on. She knows that a person could be both someone’s child and a tool in various ways, she herself was that by definition. Growing frustrated, Penny sighed and moved on to the other thing that was bothering her about this situation.

Penny: So, who was it?

Whitley: Hmm?

Penny: Who did you have to have dinner with?

Whitley: I’m not sure I should tell you that.

Penny: Wha? Why?!

Whitley: Penny, darling, you are a wonderful and caring person. Truly one of the most, if not the most, lovable people I have ever met. Buy my dear you are also very very strong and very emotional.

Penny: And? What are you implying?

Whitley: I’m just saying that telling you the name of the girl with that high of an interest in me might not be the safest thing. I mean you’ve taken down full-grown men with ease; I don’t want to think about what would happen to a teenage girl if she got on your warpath.

He jokes. honestly Whitley knew Penny wasn’t the type to respond to jealousy with rage but talking around the situation was the best way he could think of to soften the blow.

Penny: So, you think I would hurt her?

Whitley: No, but it’s best to not tempt fate.

Penny: Whitley!!!

Whitley: Okay, okay I’ll tell you. Do you remember Octavia’s little “friend group.”

Penny: Yeah?

Whitley: It was one of those girls, Seraphina actually.

Penny: Seraphina…That Seraphina!

Penny’s eyes go wide, a hot ball of fury blooming in her stomach. Out of all the ill-behaved girls in that group it had to be the most vulgar of them. Recalling how causally and thoughtlessly Seraphina had sexualized Whitley the first and only time she’d spoken with her, Penny felt a tinge of worry overlapping with her anger.

Penny: Did…did she do anything?

Whitley: Pardon?

Penny: Did she do anything to you? Anything…inappropriate?

She asks her voice soft and full of sincerity. Penny didn’t want to think of the worst-case scenario but knowing how Seraphina viewed Whitley and how little control he likely had in the situation she couldn’t help it. Sensing her concern, Whitley decides to stop with the games and clear the air before she gets carried away in the what-ifs.

Whitley: There were attempts of flirting and touching, she even followed me to the bathroom-

Penny: (gasps)

Whitley: -But! That was it. I managed to keep her at bay for whole the night without causing a scene. Nothing happened.

Penny: Really?

Whitley: Yes.

Penny: Okay.

Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding Penny felt the ball of rage deflate as relief washed over her. Her heart was still pounding but her mind felt at ease that the worst-case scenario hadn’t taken place. Seeing the calm expression blooming on Penny’s face Whitley decides that now is the time to reveal his surprise.

Whitley: But I must admit, I don’t make it through the night myself.

Penny: Huh?

Whitley: I had a little help from some…unexpected friends.

He chuckles and then explains how he ran into Esther and Octavio and recruited their assistance during dinner.

Whitley: There was only one thing they wanted in exchange.

Penny: And that was?

He doesn’t answer, but soon a text message notification from his number pings on Penny’s scroll. Opening it she finds two mobile numbers, one for Esther and one for Octavia. Penny’s eyes widen in confusion on delight as her gaze shifts between the message and the video-fed of Whitley, who was casually smiling at her through the screen. His night of struggling to maintain his dignity and chastity had paid off well.

Whitley: They’ve been looking for you for a while and I promised to give you their contact info if I got the chance. It’s up to you whether or not to use it.

Penny: I…thank you, Whitley!

Whitley: No problem, dear. Now I have to get back to work.

Penny: On a Sunday?

Whitley: The dinner interrupted me from finishing up something I needed to get done so I could come see you today.

Penny: Oh, so…no date this week?

Whitley: No.

Penny pouts, this wasn’t uncommon given Whitley’s packed schedule but the reason behind this week’s derailment had her feeling a bit miffed. How unfair that a brat like Seraphina got to go on a date with Whitley when she, his own girlfriend, couldn’t without the right timing and lots of planning! All because her dad had the money to buy his time off of Jacques!

Penny: Hmmm.

She grumbles, Whitley chuckles at her adorable sour face.

Whitley: I know but look on the bright side. You have two lovely little lady friends to keep you company in my stead.

Penny: That true, but it still doesn’t make me miss you less.

Whitley: Me either, I’ll call again tonight. Love you.

Penny: Love you too!

They both blow each other a kiss and the call soon disconnects leaving Penny all alone in her room once more. Looks over to her closet to stare at the outfit she’d picked out earlier in the week in case of a last-minute date and sighs.

Penny: It’s been hanging up there for a few days; it feels kind of wasteful to just put it back.

She muses somberly, with her day off now open the outfit had no purpose. It was a shame as she tried to experiment a little, pairing a long yellow cardigan with a blue dress with white polka dots and fastening the matching belt around the waistline. She’d even walked around in her yellow boots a bit every night to break them in so they could be added to the look. Now there was no reason to even put it on.

Penny: Maybe I should just go spend the day with someone? Be who?

Her options without Whitley were not great, Team FUNKI was still practicing for their upcoming concert, Uncle James was always buried in work, and Winter practical went missing in action whenever she wasn’t on duty. In fact, the only person she knew was free and go somewhere was-

Penny: Wait.

Penny sits upright and jumps out of bed; she puts on her slippers then rushes out her bedroom. Jogging down the stairs and heading to the kitchen, she finds her dad making breakfast. Hearing her coming Pietro looks up from his skillet to greet her.

Pietro: Morning Sweetpea!

Penny: Morning Dad!

She chirps before rushing up to him and giving him a soft tackle hug.

Penny: What’s for breakfast?

Pietro: Just eggs and bacon, we’re outta pancake mix.

Penny: Yeah, and a lot of other stuff too. That’s why you’re going shopping today, right?

Pietro: Yup!

Penny: Can I come with you?

That gives the old man some pause. Now Pietro knew about his daughter’s relationship and how she acted when it was time to see her little bae so this sudden shift in plans meant something must have happened. So, he calls her on it.

Pietro: What about your date?

Penny: It…got canceled.

She says trying not to huff again in frustration. Seeing her pout makes Pietro chuckle as he presses on.

Pietro: Well, what happened there?

Penny: Jacques happened.

Pietro: Oooooh.

Penny: Yeah. And if I talk about it anymore, I feel like I’m going to scream!

She huffs, eliciting another laugh from her dad.

Penny: So, may I please go shopping with you?

Pietro: Of course, Sweetie! Now sit down, food’s about done.

Penny nods and skips over to the dining table. After they have breakfast, the father-daughter pair clean up the dishes and get dressed for their errand. Pietro takes a bit longer to get to the front door as he packs tote bags onto his chair to carry their groceries. When they’re all set Penny and Pietro leave the house and take the city bus to head to the market. You see, Pietro despite his great intellect was a very simple man. He liked to get his bread from the bakery and meat from the butchers when he could manage it. Sure, he could go into a big box store and get everything in one go but that wasn’t how he liked to do things. As someone who put their heart into their craft, he preferred to patron others who did the same. That’s what the bags were for, reusables for holding different products from familiar stores.

As they go from shop to shop Penny watches Pietro be greeted and greet the people inside with the kind of familiarity that takes years to develop. The staff at the general store know him by name, and the bakery already has his usual order set aside for him in by the time they walk in. She even offers Penny a couple of free cupcakes.

Valora: They’re from a test batch for a new flavor. Give it a try!

Pietro: Ah, thanks Valora. You’re too sweet.

Valora: It’s nothing, I was looking for test runners anyway.

The kind elder woman holds out the treat to Penny with a smile. It was a vanilla cupcake with powder pink icing and topped with a candied strawberry. Simple but cute, like something a sweet little girl would ask for as a treat while out with her parents.

Penny: Octavia would love this…in fact.

Penny takes out her scroll, opens the camera app, and snaps a few pictures of the cupcakes before taking them gently. She thanks the baker before taking a bite. The coating on the strawberry breaks with a soft crunch, the icing is peach-flavored, and the inside is filled with a soft peach jam. It’s an interesting tasting treat as it’s very sweet but somewhat tart. It’s a very summery flavor and Penny really enjoys it, easting about half before offering the other to her dad. As the two share sweeties Valora looks on with a satisfied smirk.

Valora: It’s good?

Penny nods yes, lips in a tight smile to keep her mouth full of baked delight from falling out.

Valora: That’s a relief, I had to sub a few things out here and there. What with that bolt head locking up the boarder-

She stops herself, slapping her hand over her mouth and excusing herself back to the kitchen. Penny looks puzzled by her words, but Pietro quickly leads her away to head to their next stop. But as they carry on with their errand Penny picks up on a common topic of conversation, complains about the border situation. This wasn’t uncommon to hear at all with how much the whole world was shaken when Beacon fell but it seemed the context of the heightened security was slowly becoming twisted.

Blame for the constrictions and slowing of supply chains was being placed on Ironwood. This wasn’t exactly wrong, but the decision had its reasons! There was a dangerous force running loose in the world with nothing but malicious acts in mind. It wanted nothing more than to rain chaos and cessation wherever it went.

Penny: It’s not like he wanted this but what choice did he have?! After what happened to Beacon, even what happened to during the tournament was already-

Penny stops in her tracks and grabs her stomach, her waist burning from the memory. Her injuries were a part of the beginning of it all, a smokescreen to cause confusion while the real nightmare unfolded. She knew the horrors it would bring onto even the most innocent or irrelevant.

Seeing her discomfort Pietro suggests they stop at a nearby park bench to catch their breath, Penny agrees. It takes some maneuvering to get their groceries situated without dropping anything. In that organizing, Pietro finds he’s forgotten something at the last stop they made. Since it’s not too far away Pietro leaves Penny behind to go retrieve it. Alone again, Penny can feel the melancholy rolling in. All day she had tried to look at the positives no matter how pessimistic things had gotten but that was a hard task to do alone when people around were in just as bad shape. Whitley was forced on a horrible date, the tension in Mantle was still high, and even her fellow huntsman friends were too busy preparing their concert to hang out with her. It’s sad but couldn’t a protector have someone to lean when she was down?

Penny: Maybe I’m being too greedy. I shouldn't beg for attention whenever I feel lonely, I’m not stuck in the lab anymore! I can go where I want to, do what I want to do and talk…to who I want to.

Penny pauses and pulls out her scroll, looking back at Whitley’s text from the morning. In her quest to chase away from worries and get outside, she’d neglected to address the two people who’d been worrying for her. Though her relationship with Octavia had started as a quest for more information on her investigation Penny had quickly grown fond of the plucky girl from their first meeting and Esther had merely triggered her protective instincts but even after she still wanted to know more about her. They were bright spots in a very dark place, and they were still seeking her out. For what Penny couldn’t be 100 percent sure but leaving resolved would be irresponsible for a protector of the people like her. So with much consideration, Penny dials one of the numbers. A soft instrumental song plays in her ear for a few seconds before a familiar clear but delicate voice replies when the music fades.

Esther: Hello?

Penny smiles, eased at the sound of her green-haired friend’s voice.

Penny: Hello Esther! How are you today?

Esther: What-PENNY!

#fanfic #rwby fanfiction #rwby #penny polendina #fanfiction #beta testers #whitley schnee #cute #angst #sorry it took a while #pietro polendina

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danganronpaxobeyme1356 · 5 months

Text

The tale of seven lords part 1

*at next day a few Hours before they go to RAD school, Leviathan knock Shuichi's room and Shuichi open the door*

Shuichi... can you come to my room for talk?

Uhmm about what?

Nah I'll tell it later, you just come with me I'll tell you something.

*they go to Levi's room*

Wha.. what is this!?

So... this is my anime figures.. this is seraphina, this is azuki tan, and there's lot of them.

What about that.. little girl with all pink?

Oh that's ruri chan, my favorite character, she's cute and she's brave, she's magical ah... she's also shattered some bad demon with her power petunia thingy, she's really really magical!

.........

Sorry for that, but I think is.. well.. I want to tell you about the tale of 7 lords

The tale of 7 lords huh?

The tale of 7 lords is a masterpiece work made by christhoper peugot, it's adapted by hundreds of novels, DVD, anime, and theatre version of it, well my favorite character is lord of shadow, what about you?

.... Maybe the mc or protagonist?

That's henry good choice, so the seven lords has it's unique characterization.

So first one is lord of corruption, he's the eldest one and, he's most controlling and he's most feared of others.

Second one is lord of fools, he always thinking about money, he do anything for money, and sometime he is having golden pig that he loves than anything else, and of course being dunce and fool same as his name lord of fools.

Third one is lord of shadows well the one who be friended with henry of course, yet he ever give a high five with Henry, *sighs* what a good friendship they had, not to mention he's brooding recluse.

Fourth one is lord of mask he's scary he acts as a high-status, upstanding member of society, but in truth he's inhumane and cruel well he's 4th eldest, it's reminds me of satan.

The fifth one is lord of lechery, he's always be horny and only thinks about seducing others. Well he only love himself literally.

Sixth one is lord of flies, he only has one thing on his mind: food, he always thinking about food, like beel honestly.

Last one is lord of emptiness, well he's random, he's really hard to predict or understand.. but he really sleepy all the time, hmm seems reminds me of belphie.

Is lord of corruption is scary? I think he's same like lucifer right?

No he's more than that, he always plotting and planning in secret.

Seems similar like lucifer that we know, the most feared, planning and plotting in secret

But he sometimes act cruel and sadist

Oh.. that's creepy

I know right! But the scene that i know is..

In Volume 5, the supply lines of the Lord of Flies gets cut off after his land is invaded by hostile forces. The Lord of Fools sends food supply to him, but the food spoils because of the rain, causing a disease spreading across the Lord of Flies' land.

What!!? Spoiled!?

Yes all food that been sent is spoiled, thinking about it's make me cry well, it's because lord of fools was trying to help his brother, that's what he want to do.

..... Such a brotherly friendship.

#welcome to devildom in future timeline arc #danganronpa shuichi #danganronpa v3 #shuichi saihara #danganronpa #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #danganronpa drv3 #drv3 shuichi #leviathan obey me #obey me leviathan

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waterless-witch · 7 months

Text

Of Knights and Demons

Chapter 8

TW: Dark themes, violence, forced marriage and swearing. Minors DNI!

This is my first fic so please be kind! I’ve also got it posted on A03 and Wattpad under the same name in case anybody would like to read it there.

Notes: Sorry it took so long! I rewrote it like 5 times and I still don’t like it all that much but it’s been a month and I felt bad not updating. I might come back and rewrite this chapter eventually we’ll see.

Previous Chapter

With baited breath you wait to see if he’ll continue. There’s a chance he won't, he often leaves you with more questions than answers and it wouldn’t be all that unlikely for him to do so again. Grimmjow had always been hesitant to tell anything about himself or even the land he came from and this seemed so much more important than any of that. It was personal and while you wanted to know what he meant or who his family was you wouldn’t push the matter if he didn’t want to tell you, not that pushing would get you anywhere but still you understood why he might not want to share such things, you certainly didn’t talk to many people about your own mother.

He’s still looking towards the ceiling when he speaks again, “My mother was weak like you. She needed protection, she was pretty like you too.” He scoffed with a small laugh before continuing, “Worked out for her about as well as it’s worked out for you.” He says letting his eyes flick to you for just a moment.

You keep your mouth shut, not even wanting to breathe too loud out of fear that he’ll stop talking, you're a bit unsure of why you want him to continue but you desperately need to hear what he’s going to say. “My father stole her from her family, she hated him, tried to kill him and then herself over and over again but my father wouldn’t let her go, he wanted sons. He was a warlord, he needed sons.” He pulls his eyes back up to the ceiling before continuing. “It’s harder for our kind to reproduce, it's almost rare to have a child, but eventually it happened.”

Grimmjow’s voice almost sounds sad, or at least as sad as you’ve ever heard him. “She wasn’t like you. She didn’t care about other people, not even her own children. She wanted nothing to do with me, leaving me to my father to train and… Mold how he saw fit.” He didn’t go into much detail about his father but what he had said left you feeling uneasy, it was enough of an implication to make you shiver. You felt awful for him but he just kept talking.

“When I was eight she had my sister, she named her Seraphina. I hoped that my mother would love her, she wasn’t a son, my father would have little interest in her and she wouldn’t grow into the same kind of monster that hurt her. She should have loved her, but she didn’t.” You couldn’t help but think of your own mother, she had died when you were young but she had adored you. You were always close and you couldn’t imagine a mother hating her children, you can’t help but wonder if you could have hated your children if you’d had them with Aizen. You hoped that you wouldn’t have but how would you know.

“Our people congratulated my mother when she was born, they celebrated, drank and danced like it was something to be happy about. Like we weren’t living proof of her imprisonment.” You couldn’t help but think of your own wedding, how awful you felt to see people celebrating while you were in agony. Grimmjow was one of few who hadn’t seemed happy that day and while at the time you hadn’t understood it you do now. You can’t even begin to imagine the kind of memories that day had brought up.

“My father thought he had broken my mother down, thought she was done with all her attempts to run or end her own life, so he took me and a few men on a hunt. We were only gone a few days. Our camp was attacked while we were gone.” He pauses for a long moment and you think he might be done talking but after a few moments he starts again.

“She left her there. Alone.” He bites out, “A little girl less than three years old, she couldn’t get out of our tent when it caught fire.” Your eyes widen and you breathe in a shaky breath. “She ran, she didn’t even try to find Sera, just left. My father found her a few days later, dead from the elements. He didn’t care too much, he found another pretty girl and started all over like none of it happened.”

Instantly you feel remorse, you had no way of knowing about any of this when you threaten to leave or throw yourself from the roof but you can’t help but feel bad, you know your words must have brought back terrible memories. He’s looking at you again, face completely unreadable.

It takes you a moment to recognize he’s finished talking, you swallow thickly, “I’m sorry Grimmjow,” You all but whisper, “For all of it, what I said, what you went through, it shouldn’t have happened.”

His eyebrows twitch a bit and for a second you think he might be angry but he huffs a small laugh, “Lots of things shouldn’t happen the way they do princess.” He says, “I hated you for a long time when I’d first been told about you.” Grimmjow confesses keeping your gaze.

Your eyebrows knit but you don’t say anything, you’re not quite sure what to say or if you should say anything at all. “All I could think about was my mother and sister, even when we’d found you it's all I saw. I thought you deserved what was coming for you, why should you get to exist, all delicate, with sweet words and dressed all pretty while my sister burned? I was sure you were exactly like my mother. But you’re nothing like her and you made that very clear from the start. You're kind, you care for people. Even when you shouldn’t.” You didn’t understand what he meant by any of that and in turn gave him a questioning look.

“You worried for that knight. Hell, you tried to stop Aizen from hurting him.” He says with an exasperated laugh. “You had no way to stop him and nothing to offer him that he wasn’t going to take from you anyways, but still you tried.”

He lays back down and closes his eyes but continues speaking, “You all but cried for the people your husband massacred, you’re so weak but you did everything in your power to keep that one man safe, you almost fucking started weeping when you thought he’d been killed anyways, you were glad he escaped, even though he left you behind. You were upset when Aizen killed that man for you, he tried to fucking rape you and still you didn’t wish death on him. Fuck princess, I put a knife in your hand and told you exactly how to kill your husband but you wouldn’t, you were willing to die trying to escape rather than taking a life.” He’s strangely calm, you’d find comfort in it if you weren’t talking about what you were.

“I felt for you during your wedding night. My comrades started placing bets on how long you’d live or if you’d kill yourself. They made me fucking sick. You looked horrified when you realized how many of your people betrayed you, how many stood by him.” He bites out, “One of those cowards should have stepped up and done something…” he pauses for another minute. “That fucking knight shouldn’t have left you behind.” He sneers. “It shouldn’t have happened to you. Your people should have at least tried to help you.” Grimmjow tsks letting his eyes fall back open.

He stares at the ceiling for a long time before he speaks again, so long that you think you're done talking. “I think you're the only person I’ve ever met who’s not afraid of me or who doesn’t want to use me as a weapon.” He confesses in another whisper, like he had before you left the manor.

You think about his words for a long time before you answer. You don’t think any of what you’d done was particularly kind, in fact you remember saying mean things to him quite a few times in your first few days. You were certainly scared of him at first, you’re not really sure when it had begun to fade, perhaps when he’d tried to bring you food the day after your wedding, or maybe when he brought you the tea. You felt bad, you were using him now weren’t you? “I was afraid of you, at first.” You clarify to him quietly. The sun had begun to set and the last of the sunlight filters through the window between the two of you. While you know you should let him sleep, you can’t help but want to keep talking with him.

He chuckles, “I bet you were.” He looks over to you again. “You should have been, hell you should still be afraid of me.” He says with a shake of his head.

You swallow thickly as guilt about the whole predicament continues to bite at you. “Am I not using you now? How is it any different?” You ask meekly with a hint of sadness. You weren’t as kind as he thought. He didn’t see it now but he would eventually and he’d hate you for it.

Grimmjow just chuckles a bit, “It’s different.” He tells you, reminding you of the evening in the library. You’d said the same thing when he had asked if you were scared of him. “Get some sleep princess, we have another early start.” He tells you, ending the conversation and you nod.

You crawl under the covers and lay there for a while, mind wandering over everything that had happened and everything Grimmjow had told you. You know that he had kept most of the brutal details of his story to himself but it still upset you. He was still an enigma to you but some of it made more sense, why he’d gone through the trouble of the tea or offered the chance to free yourself at least made sense. You thought about his sister and how unfair and cruel it all was. You still wondered how he came to work for Aizen and where his father was or if he was even still alive but you weren’t about to ask, he told you far more than you’d expected and you didn’t want to push him and accidentally upset him further.

You don’t know how long you lay there awake but it takes forever for you to fall asleep, the bed is comfortable, especially when compared to the cold ground of the previous night. When sleep does find you it's a dreamless night, which is fine with you in comparison to what you’d been dreaming of, you didn’t need that confusion on top of what you were already feeling.

~~~

Sunlight has just started to peak into the widow when you wake up. You open your eyes groggily and blink a few times, you look around and immediately take notice that Grimmjow is not in bed. You jerk yourself up quickly, the blanket is tossed haphazardly near the foot of the bed indicating that he had been there but you're unsure of how long ago. Your eyes dart to the small bathroom door which is still wide open and empty.

A bit of panic sets in, you pull yourself out of bed and look out the window, there’s no movement outside but you can’t see the horse from the window. You make your way to the door, ready to peak out and check to see if for some reason he’d left. Maybe he changed his mind, maybe you’d upset him and he’d just left, you didn’t know and your mind spun with possibilities.

Just as you’re about to reach the door it opens, you stop, taking a step back to avoid getting hit with the door and watch as Grimmjow enters back into the room as cold air blows in behind him. He looks down at you and raises a single brow, “Something the matter?” He asks as he slips in the room and closes the door, stopping the cold flow of air.

You feel a bit dumb at the realization that he hadn’t left, he hadn’t given you any reason to distrust him. A small blush rises on your cheeks, “I-uh, I thought you…” You start to say.

“Ditched ya?” He asks, finishing your sentence. You nod your head lightly, still feeling foolish. Grimmjow just shakes his head with a light smirk, “Nah,” he starts lazily, handing you a cloak that you hadn’t bothered to notice, he held a second one for himself and you couldn’t help but feel bad that he’d again gone out of his way for you yet again. You still had his jacket so you looked up at him in question. “It’ll get a lot colder the closer we get to that mountain and I can’t give you all my clothes.” He says with a smirk making you flush a bit further. It was strangely nice to see him falling back into his normal behaviors, even if said behaviors were tormenting you.

You nod in understanding, “Thank you, again.” You tell him, Grimmjow just rolls his eyes. You can’t help but wonder if he doesn’t like you thanking him because no one ever has before. The thought depresses you a bit. You wonder what he would have been like if he’d been born in your land, or anywhere else. You think he would have been a knight, he seems to despise them but you still believe it all the same.

Grimmjow throws his own cloak on the bed then flops down himself. “We leave in an hour, wash up or rest or read or whatever.” He says with a wave of his hand. He didn’t seem as talkative as the previous night but that’s alright with you, there’s a strange arua between the two of you right now, it's not stressed or angry like normal, just calmness. You gently fold the cloak and remove his jacket, setting both on the bed delicately, out of the corner of your eye you can see Grimmjow watching you with interest but he doesn’t move or say anything. You don’t say anything either as you make your way to the small bathroom, there’s no tub but there is a spigot above a drain on the broken tiled floor.

There’s a small dented metal bucket in the corner and you grab it, you rinse it out before filling it with water from the tap. The water runs cold but you don’t care as you strip from your clothes. You gently rest them on the sink, careful not to get them wet and you wet a washcloth and bathe to the best of your ability. The cold water bites at your skin but you hold out through your quick wash.

When you re-emerge you take note that Grimmjow has everything packed by the door, he cracks open an eye and watches you move to put his jacket back on. You shiver lightly at the cold which makes him chuckle, “Cold?” He asks as he sits up fully. You hum your acknowledgement and he snorts, “You’ll have a rough next few hours then, I need to hunt as we go which means going slow. ” He tells you in a mock informational tone.

You again hum as you unfold the cloak, “I’ll survive.” You answer back as you tie the strings thightly. Grimmjow gives a small barking laugh and pulls his own cloak on before making his way to the door. He grabs the supplies then holds the door for you. The cloak helps a lot with the cold and you're thankful as he readies the horse then helps you up.

The two of you eat a quick breakfast of dried meat while riding. You don’t speak much, Grimmjow has the bow at the ready, keeping an eye out for any game that might come across your path. You can’t tell if it's your imagination or not but it almost seems like he’s sitting a bit closer and keeping his arms closer to your body. You might find it strange but he feels incredibly warm compared to the cold winter air around you, you’re also hyper aware of you still wet and cold hair on your neck which causes you to shiver lightly. Grimmjow chuckles a bit but he does noticeably move closer. Midway through the day he brings the horse to a quiet stop and draws an arrow from behind him, a few paces away a rabbit sniffs at some dried and dead grass. Grimmjow’s completely silent as he nocks an arrow, you're not even sure if he’s breathing, you’re certainly not. You hold your breath and watch as he aims, then in a blink he's released the arrow, it embeds itself through the rabbits neck, pinning the animal to the ground.

You can’t stop the small gasp that you release as you watch the small animal die. Grimmjow dismounts to retrieve the rabbit, pulling the arrow from its neck and flicking a small amount of blood to the ground beneath him as he walks back. “You’re so delicate.” He tells you as he ties the rabbit’s carcasses to the bags.

His gaze flicks up to you, waiting on an answer that you don’t really have, “I’ve just never seen someone hunt before.” You say a bit embarrassed, making him chuckle.

“And you thought you could make it all on your own.” He mocks as he climbs back up behind you. You roll your eyes and ignore him which only seems to entertain him more.

A few more hours pass before you see another rabbit, this time when Grimmjow slows the horse he reaches for your hand. You jerk a bit but he doesn’t let go, instead he puts the bow in your hand while keeping his hand firmly placed on yours. His other hand grabs for an arrow and again he places it in your hand before placing his hand above yours. You try again to pull your hands away from him but he simply squeezes both your hands to make you stop, not in a painful manner, just enough to deter you.

With his hands over your own he nocks the arrow, you desperately want him to let go of your hands, you have no interest in hunting and you really don’t want to kill this poor rabbit. He pulls back the bow string as you release a shaky breath, even with his help you can feel the strain of the bowstring against your arms. You can’t see his face but you can all but feel his eyes flick to you before returning to the rabbit. The hand above the arrow tightens around your own a bit, his touch is warm against your cold hand but it's not much of a comfort as he pulls your hand from the arrow. You squeeze your eyes shut to stop yourself from watching the poor animal die, you can hear the arrow fly into the animal and the subsequent squeak it lets out. “You should learn to use the bow, might come in handy.” He says breaking the silence and letting the bow slip from your hand gently.

Grimmjow slips from the horse and you watch him as he again retrieves the rabbit and ties it with the one from earlier. You’re unsure of what to say so you simply say nothing. “I could teach you.” He offers and you consider for a second before he continues. “Might help you relax a bit, knowing you could defend yourself, at least long enough for me to help you if we’re separated for a moment.” Grimmjow explains calmly while holding eye contact with you. He has a point, even if you don’t like the idea of using the weapon you know ultimately that he’s right. You can’t think of a good reason to deny him so you nod your head.

Grimmjow ties the horse to a tree before he helps you down. You thank him weakly, still unsure of learning archery with him, you don’t like the idea of having to kill more animals. “Look, more than likely you’ll never use it, I’ll just show you the basics. No more hunting, just target practice, I promise.” He tells you a bit awkwardly though it does make you feel a bit better.

After moving a small distance from the horse Grimmjow finds a spot he deems suitable. You take the bow from him as he goes up to one of the larger trees ahead of you. You watch, mesmerized, as his hand darkens and forms into those animalistic claws. They somehow seem darker than the last time you’d seen them, they looked darker than the night sky, like light couldn’t touch them even if you held a flame to his skin. Quickly, he craved an X into the bark and turned back towards you. The claws were gone before he even finished turning and you were again amazed with how stunning the transformation was, how quickly he could bare them amazed you.

Your eyes watch the hand that had bore claws just moments ago as he makes his way back to where you stood. “Scared?” Grimmjow asks with a small smirk. You briefly consider telling him how impressed you are but decide against it, not wanting to fan his ego or embarrass yourself.

It takes a second for you to pull your eyes away but you do and look up at him, you're not scared, not in the slightest so you just shake your head, “No.” you tell him while still gazing up at him, he snorts a small laugh and pulls an arrow from the quiver at his back.

He steps behind you, his hands fall to your hips and he lightly kicks your feet apart making you flush, his hands on you again feel warm and you almost want to keep him there. The thought brings heat to your face and you can’t help but wonder why you’d think something like that. “Keep your feet shoulder length apart.” He tells you drawing you out of your own head as he steadies you then places the arrow in your hand. You follow his instructions then look up at him, his gaze flicks down to your own eyes quickly before looking back towards the tree, “Always keep your eyes where you're aiming.” He says pulling his hands from you completely, you miss the warmth but would never dare voice it or let him know.

You mumble out an apology as you look back towards the X that he’d marked into the tree. He reaches for your hand and nocks the arrow, his hand is warm and again you want him to stay close, “Three fingers to pull back, like this.” He tells you as he moves his fingers over yours. He has you hold the arrow between your pointer finger and middle finger with your index finger below it.

Grimmjow’s other hand falls to your hand on the bow and pulls it up so that you’re ready to draw the bowstring back. “When you pull, keep your back straight and pull in as straight of a line as possible, it keeps your aim straight.” He explains before he helps you pull the bowstring back. His chest is almost all the way pressed to your own and you can’t help but fluster a bit further, you’d blame it on the cold if he asked but luckily he doesn’t. He pulls your hand from the drawn bow string until it sails into the middle of the X on the tree.

You’re impressed with his aim, especially considering that he was helping you and not aiming himself, you look up to him but he’s already looking at you. For half moment you two just stare at each other, his hands still over your own, but after a second he pulls away. “Your turn.” He tells you with a hard pat to your shoulder that throws you a bit off balance.

You straighten back up while taking another arrow from him, you follow all the directions he’d given you but your arrow lands nowhere near the X. Grimmjow made you continue firing arrows until after an hour so, one arrow eventually embeds itself close enough to the X that Grimmjow deems it good enough. The two of you make your way back to the horse in order to make camp for the night. Grimmjow gathers nearby wood and sticks to build up a fire that you can’t wait to be in front of.

The sun had begun to set, letting a much colder chill take over the forest the two of you resided in. Grimmjow lights the small fire before he makes his way over to the horse and you watch him untie the rabbits then go through one of the bags. “Nabbed this for you.” He says with disinterest as he drops something onto your lap. It’s a book, upon closer inspection it's the book from the inn that you’d been reading the previous day.

You blink up at him for a second, “You stole this?” You ask with an unbelieving laugh while giving him a small smile that he doesn’t return, instead he just scowls at you.

“Not like they were using it, plus it keeps you outta my hair. I’ll never understand why you like reading so much.” He scoffs out at you. You can’t help but think he’s putting on a front, he seems to do so often when he’s being kind to you, always taking a backhanded approach. His blue eyes flick up to yours for a second before he sits down and begins skinning the rabbit. You find yourself thinking back to the first day you’d spent in the library with him, you thought about how you’d considered offering to teach him to read but decided against it. You’d reasoned that you weren’t friends and that’s why you couldn’t help him and while you still technically weren’t quite friends you still found yourself wondering if you should offer now, you had a long way ahead of you and it would pass the time.

“I could teach you,” You begin trying to say, he stops what he’s doing and his eyes flick up to yours again. You can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed and nervous as you continue but at least you can blame the flushing of your skin on the cold. “If you wanted to, that is.” You elaborate not wanting to seem like you were pressuring him into it.

Grimmjow doesn’t say anything for a moment, he just stares at you, his eyes flick back and forth over you, he’s clearly thinking. He settles back, pulling his knife away from the rabbit to fully focus on you. “And why exactly would you do that?” He asks with narrowed and untrusting eyes.

“It might come in handy.” You tease back in a light and cheery tone, recalling what he’d said to you about learning how to use the bow. “Besides, we don’t have much else to do as we travel and I’m sure it will help you wherever you decide to go once this is all over.” You explain trying to sound as nice as possible in order to try to get him to agree.

He considers your words for a moment, you think he might deny your offer for a moment but he doesn’t, “Fine.” He bites out with a small amount of irritation, you can't help but smile at him, you’re not sure that he’d enjoy reading the way that you do but it was a good feeling to be able to do something for him for once instead of the other way around.

Your mind starts to wander as Grimmjow continues to prepare the rabbits. Where will he go after all this? Surely he can’t go back to Aizen, he doesn’t seem fond of the land he grew up in either. You guess he could go anywhere, one of the surrounding kingdoms perhaps. Aizen had also promised to invade them as well though and you were positive he had to know that. “Where will you go after all of this?” You ask, tired of trying to guess.

Grimmjow shrugs, he doesn’t look up at you immediately, too busy with skewering the first of the rabbits and then setting it to cook. “Away from this mess.” He tells you while finally letting his eyes meet yours, “I don’t plan on sticking around when things go bad, I’m not one of your little knights.” He tells you, with a glare.

“Trust me I know you're not a knight.” You start to tease at him and he scowls at you. Normally it's him who’s picking on you and it's nice for a change to be the one to tease him.

His brow is still furrowed as he begins skinning the second rabbit, “And what exactly does that mean?” He bites out.

“Well-“ You start, drawing out the word, “A knight would be nicer to me.” You tell him, making him scoff.

“I’m plenty nice to you.” He argues back, making you laugh, a real laugh not a cut off one or a sarcastic one. His eyes flick up to you and he watches you for a second with almost a bewildered expression.

You don’t start talking again until he looks away from you and back to his task at hand, “You can be nice to me.” You agree with him, “But a knight wouldn’t manhandle me the way you do or talk to me the way you, or just do anything the way you do.”

Grimmjow scoffs, “Yeah?” He starts, “And all those knights that speak to you so kindly and who wouldn’t dream of upsetting you, they left you behind. They didn’t stick around to fight for you so maybe they’re not as great as you think.” He doesn’t look up to you as he works.

His words hurt your feelings for a moment but you quickly get over it, getting away with you would have been an impossible task for them and it’s not fair of you to ask that of anyone. “They couldn’t have gotten me out.” You voice bluntly as he finishes the second rabbit and begins to cook it.

Grimmjow settles back and looks at you again, “They should have tried.” He bites out, you don’t understand why he thinks that. You shake your head at him and he just rolls his eyes. The two of you spend the rest of the night in relative quiet, Grimmjow gives you some of the meat from the rabbits and the two of you eat while he saves the second for the next day.

You offer to stay awake while he sleeps and after a minute of arguing he reluctantly agrees on the promise that you’ll stay right beside him and wake him the instant you hear anything, even if you think it's nothing. You think he’s being dramatic but you agree nonetheless and eventually he falls asleep. You spend a long while just staring out into the forest, nothing moves besides the occasional light breeze along the treetops that you can’t even fully see with how dark the night gets. Eventually your eyes fell on Grimmjow, you’d never seen him so calm looking, all the hard lines on his face had fallen away with sleep and his signature scowl was completely missing. You can’t help but think that he looked almost like a painting. His features looked soft in comparison to the bone mask and again you find yourself wanting to reach out and touch it, you don’t out of fear of waking him but it’s still a prevalent thought in your mind.

You spend a long time just looking at him and thinking. He’s still a mystery to you but he’s becoming more and more of a comfort. Which is a problem in and of itself, you know that he’ll leave once this is all over and while you might have been able to convince yourself that you wouldn’t miss him before you doubt you could now. The world seemed so cruel for him and you wanted nothing more than for him to have a home of his own, even if it wasn’t anywhere near you. It just didn’t seem fair, all that he’d been through. You wonder what kind of relationship you’d have with him if you’d met him under different circumstances. Would the two of you have been friends? You doubt it, you don’t really think he would have given you the time of day if he hadn’t been forced to initially.

Your mind wanders a bit more and you find yourself thinking about the last time he’d left. Grimmjow had said that he would have slept with you under different circumstances and you wonder what those would have been and if he’d actually meant it. Would he have tried if Aizen hadn’t married you? Was he actually serious? Did you even want him to try? You try to stop thinking like that but it proves to be a lot easier said than done. You have to look away from him before you can even try to keep those thoughts at bay.

You’re looking up at the cold night sky looking at the stars when you hear multiple twigs snap. Faster than you can blink Grimmjow is awake and pulling you back so that your back comes in contact with his chest with his arm sprawled across you keeping you close and his other hand darts to the hilt of the sword he had placed next to him while he slept. You turn as best you can to look up at him in bewilderment. He’d woken up so fast and honestly his reaction startled you far more than the small noise had. Grimmjow’s eyes are locked on the direction the noise had come from, from the faint light of the fire you could see his eyes darting around looking for what had caused the noise. You definitely can’t see anything and you wonder if he had better eyesight than you did. It certainly seemed like that as he surveyed the area.

The two of you stay that way for several minutes before he slowly pulls his arm away from you and looks down at you while moving away from you. “Go to sleep princess.” He demands simply. You start to argue with him that there’s no way that he’s gotten enough sleep but he won't hear of it. Eventually you give in and listen and lay down to sleep, it takes you a while but you eventually fall asleep as the cold night air settles over you.

#bleach fic #bleach x reader #cross posted on ao3 #grimmjow x reader #multi chap fic #aizen x reader #aizen x y/n #grimmjow x y/n #long fic

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takemetothemoon-fics · 1 year

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Starts with S, nine letters.

Title: Starts with S, nine letters

Pairing: Killian Jones x OC

Word count: 900

Warnings: none

Tags: Fluff, a loooot of flirting, mild smut but mainly kissing

Synopsis: This story is about Seraphina Vale, my OC, who meets Captain Hook when she's in a bar. Things get flirty real quick...

A/N: Hello!!! So happy you're taking the time to read this. This is my first fic ever!!! For this story I decided to create an OC, but you can just replace the name with Y/N if you'd like. Just for the sake of this story I decided to give her a name, since Killian has to guess her name at some point. Hope u like the story. Don't be afraid to follow me here :)

MASTERLIST

She had no clue what was about to come upon her. Who she was about to meet. It was late in the evening. Seraphina was sitting in a bar, alone.

'Hello darling.'

Sera looks up. There's a man standing next to her table. Without asking, he sits down at the head of the table.

'And you are?' Sera asks.

He raises an eyebrow and is amused by your inquiry, a warm smile growing on his handsome face.

'Why, I'm Captain Killian Jones darling, also known as Hook.'

'And you are?' he leans in and looks into your eyes.

'Hook. Interesting name. My name... Is not important. For now.'

'Hmm…' he raises an eyebrow once more, taking note of this strange woman who has chosen not to introduce herself.

'Not important… ' he says in a contemplative tone, 'I have stumbled upon a mystery. I'm quite good at solving mysteries, you know.' he says with a smirk.

'I'd like to see you try' Seraphina says. Hell, why not, she thought to herself. She felt like having some fun.

He smirks and leans on the bar, his tone flirtatious as it always is.

'Oh, is that a challenge I hear darling?'

He tilts his head and looks at her with a sly grin.

'Hmm…' he muses, 'a woman who wants to test me… ' he purrs and his eyes look like they are assessing her up and down.

'What are the stakes?'

'You name them.' She says, in a teasing tone, daring him to bite.

His eyebrows raise a little higher this time, his smile growing bigger and even more smug.

'Hmm… how about a kiss?'

'You know what? I'm bored. Yes. You'll get a kiss as soon as you guess my name' She says.

He nods his head, his smile growing wide as he leans in and looks deep into her eyes.

'It's a deal, darlin'. You have yourself a challenge.'

It's clear he's confident in his ability to complete this task, although he's also intrigued by the mysterious woman in front of him.

'Let the games begin…'

He grins from ear to ear as his eyes sparkle with confidence and his eyebrows raise.

'And may the best pirate… win.' he says with a self-assured smirk that shows he's more than ready to play the game.

Killian takes a sip of his drink and starts to observe her closely, carefully considering all of her features and mannerisms as he begins to think of who this mysterious woman could be.

'Hmmm…'

He leans forward slowly with a smirk on his face, his eyes fixed on hers as he looks into her eyes, looking like he's carefully considering what name might suit her. He's clearly starting to get into the game now, and his eyes have the playful, teasing look about them that's so characteristic of him.

'How about…' he says playfully, 'Annabel?'

'Wrong.'

He pulls back a little, running a hand through his hair as he thinks for another few moments. After a little time, he leans forward slowly once more, and looks into her eyes with a coy smile once more.

'Well then how about… Charlotte?' he asks teasingly with a wink as he once again tries to narrow down her name, his eyes gazing into hers as if he's trying to uncover her secret to get to it.

'Such basic names..' She teases, 'wrong again.'

Killian raises an eyebrow, his playful face turning slightly more serious as he considers the matter at hand.

'Basic names?' he asks in a joking tone while he moves his face a little closer to hers as he raises the other eyebrow.

'Give me something less basic.' She says with a teasing tone while his eyes look her up and down with a playful but calculating gaze.

'Something… that'll suit you. ' he purrs as he leans even closer, clearly enjoying the game and wanting to continue teasing her.

'I'll give you a hint. the name starts with S, and has 9 letters'

Killian leans back in his seat in mock frustration, but a warm smile also crosses his face.

'Nine letters… S…' he hums to himself, clearly running through the names and combinations of words in his head while he looks at her thoughtfully and a playful, yet calculating look crosses his face.

'How about… Seraphina?' he says with a smile as he watches her, waiting to see if he got the name right this time. The way he says her name gives her goosebumps.

'Well played. You got it.' Seraphina says, impressed with how quickly he got her name.

'Well, my dear Seraphina, consider the game won.' he says with a flirtatious grin and wiggles his elbows.

'Now… about that kiss…' he says with a teasing wink, moving forward and gently placing a hand on her cheek.

'Call me Sera, and yes. You've earned it.' She says, seductively.

'Sera it is darling…' he says with a playful smile as he leans closer, placing the other hand behind her neck while he tilts his head a little to the left as he once again moves closer for what promises to be an intense kiss. His breath hits her lips as they get closer and the passion in his eyes is easy to see.

'Sera…' he whispers as the two of them share a slow and sweet, yet passionate kiss that takes their breath away.

#fluff #killian jones #killian jones x oc #killian jones fanfic #fanfic #once upon a time #ouat #captain hook #ff #drama #romance #imagine #ouat x oc #once #killian #jones #killian jones fanfiction

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invisible-brandy · 9 months

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OC-tober: going about an average day

Using @icannotreadcursive 's prompt list

this one is Angel's average day, featuring me not knowing how ateliers work

Angel uses all pronouns but I'm not entirely used to writing like this - it's the first time I'm writing about them - so it might look a little awkward. Hope not lol

•-------------------------------------------------------•

The mornings have been kind to Angel these past few years. They have been soft and comfortable in temperature – the thermostat really doing wonders for Angel’s cold bones. Almost every breakfast – sunny side up eggs, fresh tiny tomatoes that Seraph grew in their roof garden. She would never admit it, but she liked the peaceful company of plants, and Angel found that her happiness made them feel better too.

They woke up with their feet sticking out of the blanket, Wagtail purring under their arm. This fluffball of a cat was getting more and more accustomed to their household, which meant that Angel was starting to see some damage. He wasn’t big on knitting, so the untwisted and tattered balls of yarn didn’t bother him too much. They just hoped no delicate lace wouldn’t suffer at kitty’s claws…

He dragged himself out of bed, making sure to cover Wagtail’s head in kisses before leaving, and transferred into his wheelchair to go shower, too sleepy yet to try and move around the house any differently. After that and putting on his prosthetic, he picked an outfit, concluded that it was definitely too much for a regular day, and went downstairs completely satisfied.

Seraph was nowhere to be found, which bothered Angel a little, but only until they saw a note pinned to the counter with a knife.

“She’s ruining my furniture again,” Angel tsk-ed, pulling the knife out and trying to make out the messy handwriting. “Really gotta start charging her for staying here, yeah, Wagtail?”

The cat meowed at their feet, concerned not with the state of the counter, nor with Seraphina’s whereabouts, but with its empty bowl.

Angel got to it after finally managing to read that his roommate went out to snoop at the newest atelier in the city. Angel wasn’t bothered by other shops opening up, especially as far away as this one, but Seraph was restless all the time and sniffing out information was her definition of fun. And who was Angel, to deny Seraph her play time?

Angel went on with her day, putting on the music and opening the atelier. They had no appointments for today, so while the sign said “open”, the door stayed firmly locked and Angel stayed in her workshop.

She barely noticed the passage of time, only made aware of her own rumbling stomach when Wagtail jumped up on her desk unceremoniously, meowing right in Angel’s face.

Seraph was back too, sitting downstairs with her afternoon tea. Her hearing aids were out, so Angel made sure to move in front of her before waving.

“I didn’t hear you come back,” they signed when she looked up at them.

“Does that mean you finished the butterfly dress?” she signed back, tilting her head. Angel sighed and shook their head. “How come you emerged from your cave, then?”

Angel leaned down and gently grabbed Wagtail, holding him up like Simba.

Seraph laughed. The day immediately got ranked as “best-day-ever” in Angel’s mind.

They gossiped over tea, Seraph telling her all about the new atelier. In the middle of a sentence, her hands slowed and trailed off as she stared at Angel, then a soft smile touched her lips.

“You’ve got glitter all over your hair again.”

“Ah, shit,” Angel leaned back in his chair to look into one of the mirrors in their living room, and yes, the glitter he was using for fine details on the dress, somehow got into his hair, making the dark brown nest on his head look even more insane than usual.

“I don’t understand how your projects come out stunning and neat every time, meanwhile you look like you got in a fight with a fairy,” Seraph stood in front of him suddenly, with a brush in her hands.

This was something they started to do soon after Seraph moved in – brushing each other’s hair. Angel was extremely tense the first few times, but now he practically melted into her touch, closing his eyes. A few more moments of relaxation, and then he’ll go back to tailoring, yes…

The rest of the day was spent up in his workshop again, stitching and sewing. Angel needed to get the butterfly dress done by tomorrow, and they knew they would. It was nice to have confidence in the mundane. It was even nicer when their mundane meant creating something as unique as this dress.

In bed again sometime after two a.m., Angel thought that this life was not so bad.

#my mental dolls #oc: angel #oc: seraph #original character #my writing #creative writing

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medicangels · 5 months

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lydia alcott rossetti is my mc in hogwarts mystery! this is if you could befriend lydia, what would your interactions be like? what is she like? i've seen this concept floating around and i really wanted to do it because it seemed fun, and it was!!

lydia is my actual name but if you get who the other two names are you get a thumbs up and a hug<3

underneath the cut there'll be quizzes about your interactions (meal with friends, play gobstones, etc)

meal with a friend:

"Ever since my first day at hogwarts I've been a proud slytherin. How much do you know about slytherin?" Where is the common room located? 1. In the dungeons, under the black late 2. Next to the armoury, near the trophy room 3. In the clock tower Who is the founder of slytherin? 1. Sylvester Slytherin 2. Seraphina Slytherin 3. Salazar Slytherin Who is the slytherin ghost? 1. The grey lady 2. Peeves 3. Bloody Baron What are the slytherin house colours? 1. Green and gold 2. Green and silver 3. Green and black Which of these is not a house trait? 1. Wit 2. Cunning 3. Ambition Which skill are slytherins often gifted in? 1. Legilimency 2. Occlumency 3. Apparition Are students from other houses allowed in the common room? 1. No 2. Yes 3. Only on special occasions "Wow, you really know more than i thought you'd know, I'm impressed!"

play gobstones:

Playing gobstones with Lydia is unavailable. She hates the smell. "It's gross."

drink butterbeer:

"How well do you know me?" Who did I go on my first date with and take with me to the celestial ball? 1.) Penny Haywood 2.) Barnaby Lee 3.) Talbott Winger Who do I spend the majority of my time with outside of class? 1.) Nymphadora Tonks 2.) Talbott Winger 3.) Charlie Weasley What is my animagus form? 1.) Cat 2.) Bird 3.) Dog What am I most known for? 1.) Rule breaker 2.) Peacemaker 3.) Being nosey What is my wand made out of? 1.) Applewood wand, dragon heartstring core, rigid 2.) Maple wood, dragon heartstring core, flexible 3.) Hornbeam wand, dragon heartstring core, inflexible Was I able to become a prefect? 1.) Yes 2.) No 3.) I didn't want to be one Who is my favourite teacher at hogwarts? 1.) Professor McGonagall 2.) Professor Snape 3.) Professor Flitwick "You know me well, it's pretty weird actually but okay."

garden date:

"Fang looks frightened. Can you do something so he isn't scared?" 1.) Gaze into Fang's eyes 2.) Shout 'Look, a Fairy!' 3.) Pet Fang "I love flowers, especially the ones that look delicate and have a soft way about them..." 1.) Pick Daisies 2.) Pick Thistle 3.) Pick Dandelions "Hagrid's garden looks lovely filled with pumpkins. Wait, do you want to pick pumpkins?" 1.) Let's do it! 2.) They're not ours to pick 3.) Let's do something else "I'm having such a good time, just us two, together but if I wasn't here with you what would I be doing?" 1.) Making friends 2.) Making trouble 3.) Making time for yourself "I'm glad our date is going well! If it wasn't though would you tell me?" 1.) I'd tell the truth 2.) I'd say something nice instead 3.) I wouldn't speak at all

(x) (x)

#please don’t ask me how long this all took <3 i had so much fun with it though!#hphm #hphm mc #hphm oc #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hphm characters #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery mc #hp #my post

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dragonrider9905 · 5 months

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Skin and betrayal for the OC asks!

Hi Caroline!!!!!! Oh my goodness!!!! Thank you for the ask!!!!! 🫂❤️🥰 Ohhhhhhh these are great questions!!!!!

Skin -- How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

I think this is a really cool question because it can say quite a bit about the person and how they process and deal with stuff!

Ryn is very comfortable in her own skin. She has a very developed sense of what is/was right and wrong and the paths that should be/have been followed. The only thing is she's haunted by things in her past she has no control over. While she's grappling with that, she has a somewhat balanced sense of what she's responsible for.....but even still she tends to make herself more responsible than she really was.

Leyla on the other hand is kinda like Elsa in the sense her own power scares her. Shes not only powerful but she has a tendency to fall to dark side tactics. She doesn't like to look at her darkness because it threatenes her at times. She can acknowledge it but doesn't handle it well :D she's suffered a lot in her life so her trauma then plays with her abilities.

Valia is very confident in who she is, and what she can do. Sometimes it frightens her how brilliant she is but then that's replaced with wonder at it instead. It's more things of the past that bother her because her hope of the future is strong.

Seraphina puts up a good front and although like Valia she's super confident in herself.....she struggles with the idea of not being good enough, of failure, ofnot holding it together when she's needed, not making it in time. Her usefulness is a huge thing to her. As a Mandalorian, she's got to be active, if that's stripped from her, she wonders what her identity is and if she lovable or worth anything at all. You couldn't guess that by looking at her though. She doesn't wear it like Leyla.

Betrayal --Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

Ohhhhghgh yes definitely.

Valia was betrayed by her uncle. She thought she could trust him because her father asked his brother to look after his family but then he sold her to the Techno Union. She's still working that out in various stages of grief and denial.

In order to be betrayed, one has to trust and be trusted. Leyla has been alienated her entire life. Where she's from and even at the Jedi Temple she's set apart. But in a way, her parents betray her by allowing strangers to abuse her and experiment on her as a child.

Seraphina will be sort of betrayed by Crosshair....I can't give details now but yup, something like that happens yeah....also, Crosshair will feel like he has the impression she has betrayed him a few times. First because when he's realizing he's interested he thinks she has a boyfriend when she doesn't and the second time I can't reveal why ;D

Ryn...a lot of secrets surround her but betrayal is a big big part of her life. People believe she has betrayed her family and clan when in reality it was the other way around. She was betrayed on such a deep level someone who meant the world to her got killed. Betrayal is what set Ryn on the dangerous path she's treading now and needing to be looking over her shoulder everywhere for everything.

OC asks, not so nice edition

#dragonrider9905 answers #you ask i’ll happily answer!

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gracilissart · 1 year

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Seamus and Sera for all 3

2. What's your oc's orientation? (Romantic/sexual/platonic alterous ect) Do they have opinions about it?

4. Is your oc's environment supportive about their identity? How does this impact them?

7. Is there something that could cause your oc to question their identity? What?

alrighty, let me answer this per question.

2. What's your oc's orientation? Do they have opinions about it?

Seraphina is very pansexual and very proud of it. with the way she talks about her distaste for romance you could speculate on her being arospec, but this isn't the case. she simply is very emotionally closed off. she jokingly describes her sexual orientation by claiming she'll "fuck anything that moves".

Seamus doesn't label his orientation and has no interest in doing so. this refusal to do so comes from his lack of understanding of gender itself. if you don't understand what gender really entails, how are you to figure out what gender(s) you are attracted to? he has slept with people of many genders with enough enthusiasm to conclude he likes it, and has long accepted his orientation as another mundane reality that doesn't require any further pondering. romance is a bit tricky because of his warped conception of what 'love' entails. he experiences what we would consider romantic attraction (to a limited degree) but he doesn't identify it as such.

4. Is your oc's environment supportive about their identity? How does this impact them?

Seraphina grew up in circles with an emphasis on masculinity, toxic at that; the kind of men whose behaviour was written off as 'boys will be boys' and who had a very notable aversion for the mere prospect of same sex attraction (unless it was lesbian action, for that was something men like that could get off to). she knew that in coming out as not just pan but transfeminine, she was going to be ostracised from the only circles she found any remote comfort in and it was a rough ordeal which left her more bitter than she already was before. funnily enough, she has felt more accepted in the hellcrew than she ever has as a human.

considering Victorian stances on homosexuality, Seamus knew that like many other parts of himself, same sex attraction was something to hide, and this was much easier to conceal than most of his other 'undesirable' qualities. 'proper' society and unfounded no-goes were nothing new to him. he has no objections to being perceived as male and he liked women, so he had little problems passing as cisgender and heterosexual. he nowadays has picked up on the lesser need to conceal queerness and thus is very transparent about it presently.

7. Is there something that could cause your oc to question their identity? What?

Seraphina has questioned her sexuality and her identity so much in the past that if she were to question it again, she wouldn't really mind because she has accepted how non-linear self-discovery is for some people. however, given how much questioning she has done in the past, she pretty much has most bases covered at this point and feels very secure in her current identity.

Seamus has several unanswered questions about several things all the time, but that doesn't include sexuality. most potential confusions have long been addressed and as previously stated, he has simply accepted it for what it is.

#grac asks #my ocs #hellcrew #seraphina shaw #seamus wrynn

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moodymelanist · 11 months

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happy day 3 of @cassianappreciationweek everyone! for todays prompt I didn’t have anything ~official~ planned, but I always think about how Illyria doesn’t really have its own canonical holidays. So I started thinking about how my dad has always talked about how in the Caribbean, Boxing Day (the day after Christmas) is a holiday in its own right… and it got me thinking maybe Illyria has something like that.

anyways hope you enjoy this slice of holiday fun in the middle of the hottest summer ever ❤️‍🔥

“Girls, do you have your costumes?” Cassian yelled up the stairs. They only had a quarter of an hour before they were due for the parade, and of course their home was chaotic as usual.

“Yes, Papa!” came his older daughter Seraphina’s reply.

“We’re coming!” Nesta yelled down right after. “Nasima, let me help you with your hair.”

In Illyria, Solstice wasn’t considered one of their own holidays. Sure, Cassian loved spending time with his family and celebrating Feyre’s birthday, but it wasn’t his tradition the same way it belonged to Mor or partly Rhys. Instead, they celebrated the day after Solstice, with training being paused for the day and most of the local businesses being closed. There were parades and more than enough food, drink, and warmth to go around, with many of the younglings putting on bright clothes and painting their faces with traditional symbols of life and good luck.

It had been Cassian’s favorite holiday as a youngling himself — and he was so honored to be able to share this with his own children, probable lateness aside. Their lives in Illyria were worlds away from his own, and that was the way he liked it.

Cassian looked up at the sound of three sets of feet hurrying down the stairs, a wide grin spreading across his face at the sight of his family. “Finally.”

“I didn’t see you offering to help,” Nesta replied pointedly. She had on a thick, blue cloak and matching fur-lined leggings, her cheeks pink from all the rushing around.

“I helped plenty!” Cassian protested. “I was the timekeeper.”

“Girls, your papa is being silly again,” Nesta said, pulling giggles from their daughters.

“Papa so silly,” Nasima, their younger daughter, repeated. She was in that stage where she parroted back everything the two of them said, so Cassian had had to learn to censor himself before she picked up anything inappropriate. “Up?”

“I’ve got you, princess,” Cassian said, bending down to pick her up. Her dark hair was pulled back into two pigtails, leaving more than enough room for the bright clips and soft pins Nesta had adorned her with. “You look so festive, Nas.”

“Mama helped,” Sera informed him promptly. She was almost ten years older than Nasima, in that awkward age where she wanted to cling to her family but she didn’t want to be embarrassed about it, and Cassian knew the moment they got outside she’d make a break for her friends. “Can we go already?”

“Yes, yes, let’s go,” Cassian replied, though not before muttering some choice words in Illyrian under his breath.

Once they all made it outside, it was like stepping into an explosion of festivities. There were bright decorations dotting the path to the main campgrounds, the smell of meat on the grill was intoxicating, and someone was playing the fiddle with so much zeal it was a miracle they hadn’t snapped a string. Cassian couldn’t help his smile as the four of them made their way toward the center of it all, the sight of so many smiles reflected back at him only making his spirits soar even higher.

“Mama, Mama, can I go play with Aria?” Sera asked, spotting Azriel and Gwyn’s daughter immediately. Nesta had hardly agreed before Sera was tearing off through the crowd, her bright yellow outfit disappearing in the blink of an eye.

“She’ll be fine, my love,” Nesta told Cassian before he could even voice his worry. “You know she never takes that necklace off.”

Nesta had enchanted so many of their daughters’ jewelry items over the years with that same spell she’d used in the Rite that Cassian knew he didn’t have anything to technically worry about, but still. “I know. I just worry anyway.”

“Dare I say this is one of the places you can worry the least,” Nesta replied, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Now which way is the parade?”

Cassian spread his wings a little further than necessary to help create a path through the crowd for them, still holding Nasima securely in his arms. She didn’t really start to squirm until the familiar banners for the parade came into view, her blue eyes wide with excitement and wonder as they approached the familiar line of people. Cassian exchanged greetings with so many people he nearly lost count, and by the time they made it to the front he was more than willing to put Nasima down in the chair they were using for the face painting.

Emerie had gotten roped into doing the face painting this year, though she looked more than happy to wield the paintbrush when she saw whose face she’d be painting next. “Hello, my little warrior.”

“Say hello, Nas,” Nesta said gently.

“Hi Emwrie!” Nasima tried her best to form the syllables of Emerie’s name, but it was so adorable none of them could stomach correcting her. “Face paint!”

“That’s right, Nas,” Emerie replied, reaching for her set of paints. “What colors do you want this year?”

“Red!” Nasima yelled. Cassian, Nesta, and Emerie both managed to hold back their winces at the shrillness of her little voice. “For Papa!”

Cassian just about melted on the spot, bending down to press a kiss to the top of his daughter’s head. “Thank you, zogu.”

His little bird just beamed up at him and held herself as still as she could. Emerie used red and white to decorate her brown cheeks, the three adults making their usual small talk as she worked.

“All done,” Emerie announced. She held a little mirror up to Nasima’s face, and judging by Nasima’s happy shrieks, she was a satisfied customer. “I wish I could talk more, but this line…”

“We’ll save you a seat after the parade,” Nesta promised, scooping Nasima up with practiced ease. “Bye, Emerie.”

They wished each other a happy holiday in Illyrian before Emerie called the next child over. Cassian loved hearing Nesta speak Illyrian, loved seeing how much she’d thrived in his homeland over the decades since their mating ceremony. He couldn’t help but sneak a kiss in before they started walking toward the parade.

They made it just in time to start walking with the other families. He took Nasima back from Nesta so she could sit on his shoulders, her little wings flapping with excitement every time they saw someone dressed in a bright costume. Nesta was magicking up silver flashes that wouldn’t burn for the crowd’s amusement, though Cassian suspected she was mostly doing it to hear Nasima clap her little hands together in pure joy. Even Sera managed to sneak into the parade and back to their sides, letting Nesta wrap an arm around her shoulders as they walked.

Cassian knew he thought this every year, but as they walked and danced and sang his people’s songs, he knew this was his favorite holiday yet.

#cassianappreciationweek2023 #Nessian #Cassian #nesta archeron #Cassian x nesta #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #pro Cassian #pro Nessian #moodymelanistwrites

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