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thehangeddemon · 6 months

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Shards, Part II || Charleson & Leslie || July, 2023

Mason/Leslie: The wall between their minds was thin at best, but still present. Charles had been given a glimpse, but deserved peace. Just this half, this terrible half would be hidden, not his entirety. Years of open telepathy had practiced Mason's skill in dividing himself for this very reason. It was all for Charles, and it was better than barring the connection completely.

Leslie had taken to text between entertaining children and washing the piling mess in the kitchen. There was always something to do, but he was trying. Sending updates with dinner, dessert, what he was doing and what he planned to do. Little innocent details to keep Tristan in the loop, waiting for Charles to return downstairs.

Charles: For a moment, he'd carved out a sliver of peace. Nightmares still threatened at the fringes of his mind, but with the familiar heat and scent of his husband so close, Charles managed to slip into a doze.

Light though it was, his sleep was blessedly dreamless. He might have made it through the night, if the drugs he'd taken had not worn off. He shifted, and pain lanced up his side, spurring from sleep. He let out a ragged gasp and sat up.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he whispered, fearing he might have disturbed Mason's rest.

Mason: Mason remained in a state of twilight, eyes closed, breathing deep and steady. All for one man. His chest belonged to him. His arm around his husband's shoulders, kept safe, if not for reality creeping in.

"Baby, don't do that." He pressed a kiss into his temple and sighed.

"Either I'm gettin' ya medicine or I'm findin' that witch." He was simply too tired to bother with a name.

Charles: "I just didn't mean to wake you." If he'd already done so, there was really no need to whisper. Still, he kept his voice low. The peace was fragile.

"Let's not bother Leslie." He'd done so much already, and as dearly as Charles loved him, that bone mending had been... difficult. Better to let his ribs heal the old-fashioned way.

"I'll call for Hank to bring something. Please stay." For Mason's sake, as much as his own.

Mason: Mason cracked his eyes open, breathing deep and slow but having nowhere for his disapproval to go. He didn't want to hear his husband scream again, but whatever horrors the witch gave, peace followed.

But the part of his mind open to his beloved knew that path was now closed.

"Hurry back."

Charles: He wasn't going anywhere. Not really. He shifted gingerly to the edge of the bed, masking a wince and a groan as he moved. No sense in causing undue worry. Mason hadn't slept for nearly long enough.

His mind brushed Hank's cautiously at first, but the beast of a mutant was just as on edge as everyone else he loved, it seemed. A silent request, one that was answered in the affirmative. He waited from his perch on the mattress until the soft knock sounded.

He inhaled deeply as he rose. It was the only sound he'd allow himself, even as he shuffled his way to the door. He opened it just a crack, thanking Hank in low tones before shutting it with a click.

He wanted to wash down the little white pill with a glass of scotch. But that was a terrible idea, and the thought of walking all the way to his study put it fully to rest. He swallowed it dry and eased back onto the mattress.

Mason: Mason was sitting up with his back to the headboard by the time Charles returned. Hands on his thighs, waiting patiently to invite him back to the warmth of his chest. He would lay however he was required for the telepath to rest.

Apologizing was a waste of words at this point. The obvious was there out in the open. I should have been there. I should have found you sooner. I should have done more. But logic was soap, and guilt ink on his skin.

"Want me t'lay back?"

Charles: "You're supposed to be asleep." Not a scolding. There simply wasn't enough heat behind it. He was too tired, and Mason was a beacon in the dark, despite his position.

"Please," he agreed, inching slowly and carefully toward that warmth.

Mason: Then back he would go. As flat as Charles desired. Little different than fluffing a pillow. Much as Lawrence had tended to him hours ago, his arm was open, and warm around his shoulders. Same love language, same soul.

"Leslie's lookin' for Kurt," he mumbled.

Charles: He sank against him. It was nearly as soothing as sinking into a hot bath. Only thing better would be a bath together. It was an appealing thought, but he was just so drained.

"Yeah? Does he need to go home?" It would make sense. Tristan must have been worried sick. Guilt tugged at him to consider it. He needed to find some way to thank his little rescue team, and those closest to them. Something to think about later. Too much for his head to wrap around, now.

Mason: His mouth opened, letting an exhale escape between his lips. He wanted - no, he wouldn't. Saying what he had felt would only sour the carefully constructed atmosphere.

"He's found him. Rec room." He turned his head, burying his nose in dark tresses.

"He'll be up to say goodbye in a minute."

Charles: "All right." Charles had no intention to move. His bad manners would have to be forgiven. He pressed his lips to Mason's chest.

"What is it?" Because of course he hadn't missed that. "What's on your mind? Talk to me."

Mason: "It's not for me t'say, now is it?" It wasn't his thoughts, but the very subject now making his way upstairs.

Charles: Charles would wait for Leslie's knock as well, but he'd make no effort to leave the bed, only sit up enough to look at the door.

"Come in."

Leslie: The door opened with a crack. Strawberry blond hair sticking through, a blond five o'clock shadow finally making an appearance.

"Hey."

Charles: "Hey." He managed a small smile, for Leslie's benefit. He must have been as tired as any of them. "Heading home?"

Leslie: "Yeah. Couldn't go without saying goodbye. You need anything?"

Charles: "Not at all. Thank you so much, Les. For absolutely everything. Go home and get some rest. Apologize to Tristan for me?"

Mason/Leslie: "Only one who needs to apologize is me. Don't start - "

"We're workin' on it. Go home."

At least there they could agree. With a wave of his hand, the door closed behind him with a click.

Charles: He'd had his mouth open to offer a retort when he was interrupted. He was still too tired to scold, but it was a near thing.

"Bye! I'll ring you tomorrow."

He fell back against Mason's chest with a huff and a wince. Never mind. He could scold a little bit.

"You should have let me finish. He dropped everything for us. He shouldn't feel the least bit guilty."

Mason: "Mhm." This was a non-argument simply because Mason had his eyes closed, his muscles relaxed, and his head - he was attempting to empty it. It wasn't an argument because he didn't care about the witch enough to defend him. He just wanted Charles to rest.

"Ya want Gina brought here?"

Charles: Now he definitely didn't have the energy to scold any more. He pressed his cheek to that warm chest and sighed.

"I... why? I'm not opposed, or anything. I just don't know why she'd want to be here."

Mason: "'Cause Lawr won't shut the hell up about her, n'it'll be my turn, next."

It was an uncomfortable subject to broach, be it now or next week, but Lawrence held a prediction in his grasp, and Mason had an inkling of its accuracy.

Best to know now, so Lawrence could prepare his family for visits.

Charles: That felt... unfair. Gina was a lovely woman, but she hadn't been taken. Hadn't been... still too fresh. Too much. He couldn't fathom Mason being out of reach for an hour, let alone days at a time. He could feel his pulse begin to race at the thought, ridiculous tears burning his eyes. What was wrong with him?

He shut his eyes before they could fall and took a steadying breath. "I'm... That's fine. She can come. I don't... It's fine."

Mason: That was all they needed. All Mason was willing to tolerate. He couldn't squeeze his husband as tightly as he'd prefer, but he could cradle him. For now, until he was strong enough to sleep on his chest without wincing, as he was meant to.

"It's fine. It's fine," soothed the demon.

Charles: Even with that gentle soothing, it took a while for his breathing to slow, and his heart to follow. His hands eventually stopped their trembling. He still felt like weeping, but he suppressed the urge. If he started, he didn't think he'd be able to stop. Hadn't he cried enough in the morgue?

Oh. Not the place he needed to revisit. He forced it away. Forced away everything but the steady rise and fall of his husband's chest.

"I'm sorry."

Mason: He could tell him again to stop. He didn't need an apology. He didn't want one, and Charles didn't deserve the guilt. But, there were times, he knew, when you just needed to say it. The catharsis outweighed the logic.

The record player across the room came to life. Chopin. Nocturnes. The record scratched to life. He kissed his husband's hair.

"Quiet."

Charles: There really weren't words to describe the depth of his love. It could only be felt.

The music soothed his frayed nerves. Blocked out the worst of the dark thoughts.

He did cry, then. A raw purge of everything he'd held onto since waking. His tears were blessedly silent. They might have gone unnoticed, if not for the sheer volume of them, and the way they shook his battered frame.

He wept until there was nothing left but Mason, and the gentle music. He was completely spent. He could probably sleep for three days.

#Shards chapter #masonatlas #askprofessorx #leslieeissott

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esperanza-valdez-official · 3 months

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¡Hola! Como estas?

Me llamo Esperanza, y tu?

For those who don’t understand Spanish (which is totally fine), I said: hi! How are you? My name is Esperanza, and you?

You might know me better as Leo Valdez’s mom, since I am his lovely mother. I use she/her pronouns and I identify as bi-curious! And how did I get a phone you may ask? Let’s just say Lord Hades got bored and needed some entertainment. Ok fine, basically he gave out some phones, and I got one

I do sometimes have to use a translation device to understand what you are saying, or I may not understand if you don’t use proper punctuation. I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience!

My people

my friends:

Naomi Solace- @all-time-alt-country-singer

Sally Jackson- @i-sell-seashells-by-the-seashore

Paul Blofis

Frederick Chase

Tristan McLean

Darren Knowles

Latricia Lake

Beryl Grace- @yourlocalsuperstar

Esperanza Valdez- @esperanza-valdez-official

Emily Zhang

Marie Levesque

Maria di Angelo- @that-one-lover-of-hades

Julian Ramírez-Arellano

Mr. Beauregard

Léa La rue- @the-original-la-rue

Kelly- @professional-disney-adult

Sora Tora- @sora-tora

my son:

@fire-boy-official

my son’s partner:

@daonedaonlyskh

ooc: hiya! It’s @daonedaonlyskh

the “friends” list are people who are a part of a closed pjo rp group for demigod parents!

if you would like to join our closed rp please get in contact with the owner of the Naomi Solace blog

ocs are 100% welcome to interact

please keep in mind that I am a minor, however if you want to try to flirt with any of my blogs in-character you are welcome to it

you can find the dni list in my main blog if you are so inclined (it’s under the “rules” section)

yes, I do speak some Spanish, I have been taking Spanish classes since I was two years old and am in advanced Spanish education courses irl, but I do often use google translate! Please let me know if anything is horrendously off!

have a nice day!

tags

machine extraordinaire here 🛠️- in character

mod speaks - out of character/ooc

banner found on Pinterest

pfp is from unknown! If anyone can find who it’s made by I would love to know!

dividers are from @/bunnysrph here on tumblr

#mod speaks #machine extraordinaire here 🛠️#holy crap it’s skh #pjo roleplay #pjo rp

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ohdeare · 1 year

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meet james 'jim jr.' deare !

38 — DAYCARE TEACHER

favorite song? this is the day by the the sexuality: pansexual pronouns?: he/him big three? gemini sun, aries moon, leo rising

from the moment he was born, jim jr.'s parents saw him as practically perfect. the two knew their chances at having a second child were slimming, so once they heard the news they'd be having a baby boy, they welcomed him into the home with open arms and everything he could ever ask for. it would be a lie to say jim jr. deare wasn't spoiled as a child, there was very little he could ask for that wasn't eventually given to him. life was great, he had a big sister to keep him company and nice parents who tended to every little need of his, there was very little to distress or vex him. he easily looked up to lilah, trying to follow in her footsteps on how to be all prim and proper like she was. he did the best he could, always falling a bit short in one area or another but he just needed some practice.

the family lived a very picturesque life, very peaceful in those early years. that was until the shock of lilah having a baby was brought up but james never saw it as the problem it might have been for everyone else. he saw it as the greatest news that he was going to be an uncle and having babies around to take care of sounded like tons of fun. jim jr. never concerned himself with the father of lilah's kids, he knew of the guy and the two had a couple of conversations but nothing ever stuck out to him. there was an initial shock when they'd broken up and even more when tristan moved in, but as his parents explained, they wanted to help him be the man they knew he could be. his parents tried to keep him oblivious with everything going on, and when it came to anything that related to tristan, he kind of was. however, siblings don't exactly keep things from each other so at the news of her dating some guy named collin, he was just happy to hear lilah was pursuing someone else that would make her happy. he thought things were going well with those two but then she got back together with tristan and he was left more confused than ever. but he'd trusted that his older sister knew best and if she really did love tristan then the guy was more than welcome to have a seat at the dinner table. when those two had another child, he was just as excited over this one as he was for the first two. he pampered all the kids the way his parents used to coddle him.

jim jr eventually grew up, he graduated high school with decent grades and took a gap year to see what was out there. the year came and went, then another year went by and another, suddenly he was 23 and finally ready to come home. just in time for the birth of lilah's fourth baby, too. there wasn't much thought on what he'd do once he got back home, he never enjoyed school so the thought of going to college sounded terrible. but he also did just spend a ton of his parent's money basically partying and playing tourist for the past couple of years so if college is what his parents wanted then that's where he'd go. he went in undecided and left after a year of studying to the realization that he really was not cut out for school life.

with nothing else to do, he took on small gigs around the neighborhood he grew up in such as house sitting, plant sitting and dog sitting. lots of sitting. but what he liked doing most of all was babysitting, he was good with kids, he had a natural charm for taking care of them and keeping them entertained. it helped that he had a lot of experience from helping raise his nieces and nephew. but his parents weren't exactly in love with the job title 'babysitter'. so he applied for a position at sunnyside daycare, there, he was able to do small tasks like cleaning and setting up lunches. he found out that if he wanted to get more involved he'd have to get a degree in early childhood education. so he did. he hated every second of studying and doing homework but he knew it was well worth it. since then, with his degree and higher position in sunnyside, he's able to do what he loves and can finally relax. maybe now he can get caught up with the rest of his family's lives, how much could he have missed?

HC’s:

was a premature baby and did get sick often as a young kid, but because he was so young he doesn't have any recollection of this. his parents just knew that his health needed to come first always.

there is not a mean bone in james' body, he's cordial with everyone and everyone seems to get along with him easily. he liked having friends the best when he would say something and they'd all laugh at a comment he'd make. not understanding that they were laughing at him, he kept on going because he didn't think anything was wrong.

nicest person alive, and well-intentioned at that but cannot, for the life of him, gauge when things could go bad. causes a lot of problems unintentionally but luck seems goes his way with his problems always resolving themselves (usually by someone else)

speaking of bad problems solved by someone else, right before he was set to go on his gap year travels, james did a funny thing and waged a good chunk of his 18th birthday money at oogie boogie's. he started off tame at the slots and actually got good money off those, the problem came when he started playing a couple rounds of poker, which he was doing surprisingly well at until he wasn't. he thought he knew what he was doing, he'd seen ocean's 11 a couple of times. everything went by so quickly and suddenly he'd owed the casino a lot of money that he did not have and his parents would kill him if he'd asked for their help but maybe the owner, oryan, himself would get to him first for owing so much. in a moment of desperation he called up tristan, who he knew worked at the casino, and asked for help. whatever tristan did got the casino off his back and he'd never have to speak a word about this ever again. it's the biggest secret he has and he kinda owes his life to tristan for helping him out.

really wants a family already but none of his partners seem to stick, he just gets very excited over a relationship because he thinks every single person he dates is 'the one'. so he gets a bit clingy and gets right into the whole conversation about having kids definitely way too soon

#[ ⊹ ] : 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ⇢ about

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hazbinextgeneration · 2 years

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Hazbin Worlds Collide Ch6

(Maizy/Wild-Card/Angle-Cake/Dexter/Genstone/Beauty- me

Brinda/Tristan/Velvet/Aldo/Junior/Iridescence/Mako and part written by Palettepainter101)

What had followed after the slap, which had left a sourly red hand mark on Maizy's face, was distressingly traumatising for Brinda, and it could have been FAR worse if Brinda hadn't intervened and stopped Maizy before she could do any long term damage.

The worse she had done was break a few bones in his arms and had used her magic to inflict multiple gash wounds. As soon as he was realised from the deer's magical grasp he had hurriedly limped away, coward.

And then of course Brinda had to calm down Alastor who looked just about ready to murder everyone in the room after finding out that his sweet whittle angle had been slapped....Brinda very nearly had a heart attack he was looking so scary.

Currently, both girls sat on a table in the middle of the crowed room, piano music sounding in the background as a performer sang out her heart on the stage, people shaking in very appropriate ways that made Brinda feel highly uncomfortable. Unlike Maizy, who was calmly drinking at some beverage Brinda didn't know off.

She passed a worried and guilty glance at her red mark on her cheek, that still looked horribly sour from where the offending mans had had slapped her. Hard.

But that wasn't the only reason she was looking guilty, it was for another reason.

Brinda was never a violent person, she was a spoon when I came to fighting and was constantly referred to as a natural klutz by strangers who tripped her up on the pathway..they had no problem reminding her about it. Although she had come to accept long ago that she was a hopeless fighter, along with many other things:

Flying, magic, acting cool, looking cool and even trying to socialise like a normal person. She was terrible at all of these...unlike her friends who had a natural knack for the majority of these things (minus the flying for those who didn't have wings)

At first, when Brinda had met the other deer, she had been naturally weary. With her constant sharp toothed grin and how she would sit in a place for seemingly hours unblinking put Brinda in a skittish mood, more then her usual skittishness.

Brinda awkwardly tapped the ends of her claws together as she glanced round the room, it was full of guests at the hotel and she guessed that the majority of the crowds, that was also mostly filled with girls and boys no older looking then her, were probably just some people looking for a little 'entertainment' for there evenings.

But, all of that fear and anxiety that she held towards the female had been mostly relinquished when the smaller demon had stepped boldly in front of her when a man tried to slap her, after not getting what he wanted...

Brinda was so shocked that she was temporarily stunned while Maizy began to effortlessly bash the man from wall to wall with her staff, while also casually inspecting her nails, splintering the plaster of the walls in the process while the man grunted in pain.

She had just sat their, eyes wide and in a shocked state at what had just played out before her quite suddenly.

"Blondie." Brinda eep'd at her voice being called out above no more then then an appropriate volume, fur bristling like she had just had a static shock and wings raising slightly. Breathing a little unsteadily and lowering her paw from her chest Brinda turned shyly to look at the deer, her ear twitched.

"You're being awfully quite.." she gave Brinda a quick glance up and down, before looking back up at her "Somethin' on your mind??" Brinda was quite, looking at the deer with a slightly unsure look, clearly not knowing how to answer or knowing if she fully wanted to answer!!

For the whole time Brinda and the others had been here, the others had swiftly acquainted themselves with everyone and in short time everyone had found at least somebody they cooperated with, everyone, expect her.

Velvet got on with Maizy and Beauty Aldo and Tristan with Dexter and Wild-card Iridescence with Angel-Cake

Junior and Mako didn't seem to want to to get to know anyone, since they remained to be hostile towards anyone that attempted to befriend them, and then harshly turn them down.

Brinda didn't and couldn't find anyone that could relate to her, everyone here was either full of bottomless energy (like her aunt Nifty) or was too serious that they appeared too intimidating for Brinda to approach. Maizy more then anyone else.

She hadn't learned anything about her, she was too scared to try and approach her and for the whole of their surprise stay in an alternate universe she had stuck close to Tristan, and Velvet when she hadn't been talking to Maizy herself.

Brinda looked around, deliberately trying not to make eye contact with the deer but trying her best not to appear nervy "U-Uhm...fine, um, yeah." She knew she had badly covered up her nerves and she was pretty sure that Maizy was seeing through her act like it was a piece of glass.

Maizy rose a bold brow, placing her cup on the table and giving the cat before her a look that was piercing. Her eyes narrowed, like a predator studying it's feeble prey and Brinda was beginning to shuffle uncomfortably.

....Maizy inhaled, and then gave a small sigh through her nose "Why do you lie to me??"

Just as she feared would happened, Maizy saw through her act, the fact that she was also able to do it within just a few short seconds only confirmed to Brinda that she needed more practice.

The anxiety maximised on her gut, and the look the deer was giving her put her in such an uncomfortable mood that she was very tempted to bolt from the room and curl up under someone's bed.

But she kept a hold of it, she was going to give somebody the opportunity of making her look like a nincompoop.

"W-Well...I, um.." Maizy began to lightly tap a finger on the desk, showing she was getting impatient with the cats obvious stalling. A series of nervous noises followed from the cat in front of her and her ears flopped loosely to the sides of her head.

Maybe if she lied again she wouldn't see through it so quickly, everyone was better at something the second time around, or at least, that was the case for her. But..then again...

Brinda gave a silent sigh, hanging her head a fraction before looking back up to make eye contact with the deer, she was still tapping her finger. Brinda gulped down the lump in her throat that had been their for some time now, inhaling one last time to calm her nerves.

"..I'm, well...I just feel a little.." she numbly lifted a paw to gesture to her own cheek, Maizy got the message in no time and lifted a hand to rub her swollen red cheek. "The slap??" She sounded genuinely confused at her worry, why would she be worried?? It was only a slap, she had suffered worse then a slap.

For one, she nearly got shot when out hunting with her farther, she was just grateful that he grabbed her and ran before she could, or he could, be hurt.

"What about it??" Her hand lowered and rested on the table, turning a puzzled look towards her. The confusion shown clearly in her face only really made Brinda feel more uneasy with the situation, she could feel her tail coiling round the legs of the stool.

"I-I...um..."

Vivid replays of the incident made herself claw herself on the inside, the way she had stood up for her, not bothered by her anxious huddling behind her. How she blew a man against a wall like he was a beach ball!!

And then their was the dreadful sound of the slap that Brinda could only begin to imagine how much it must have stung.

...And the fact she had gotten in the way..Brinda didn't know why, she didn't ask her to ( not that she would have been able to talk with her petrified she was). She thought that Maizy hated her, or maybe that was just her imagination over reacting things, likely option.

"I-I just.." Her face dropped and she could feel her face growing a soft sad at the hand mark on her cheek, and how she could have been the one who bore that mark on her cheek. "Yes??" Maizy cocked her head to the left.

Brinda took another steadying breath, before plunging forward "I just..I feel a little guilty for the.." not finishing her sentence, Brinda allowed Maizy to pick up the pieces and put them together to figure out herself, Brinda didn't have the courage nor the words to finish her sentence.

A small silence hung between the two, the only noise being Maizy's mother singing like an angle on stage and the turning of cogs inside Maizy's head. After it had all clicked Maizy's eyes widened a fraction more in realisation.

More silence.

The silence was almost crushing and Brinda felt the anxiety clawing at her gut, again. She distracted herself by glancing round the room at the patrons dancing around the room, and turning away red when she saw a couple making out not so discreetly in the corners or on the tables.

"Dont be." Maizy lifted up her cup and held it with an elegant hand, blowing on it too cool it down as Brinda turned to look at her with a hum and slowly arching brow. Maixy lifted her cup to her lips and took a small drink.

"D-Don't be??" Brinda repeated, clearly confused "Don't be what??" Maizy paused, holding her cup briefly half outstretched to her mouth before placing it back down on the table. She turned back over towards Brinda "Don't feel guilty." She said simply.

That...wasn't the response Brinda had in mind. Whenever something along the lines like this happened with her and Velvet, Velvet would often have a small conversation with her to ease her nerves, reassure her. But then again, she couldn't really demand that kind of reaction from someone who wasn't Velvet.

She did sometimes forget that they had been thrown into another universe right out of the blue (how she could forget something like that she would never know), her and her friends had been thrown into chaos for the third time this week.

"It was the man that slapped me, stupid air bag of a man in my opinion, limped away like the coward he was." Mimzy made a dismissive noise and rolled her eyes, but Brinda didn't look any more reassured.

"I know he did..but.." she felt awkward again, and went back to tapping the ends of her claws together in her anxious state. "You-I mean..You didn't have to stand in for me!!" She did genuinely mean it, she felt bad enough that Maizy was having to stand up for her and that feeling was only doubled when Maizy took the slap for her.

Maizy made a noise and waved her hand, like she was warding off some unwanted admirer. "Psh!! No one MADE me step in the way." She made the word 'made' clear in her sentence.

She looked back over at Brinda, and even though the sharp tooth smile didn't waver from her face, there was a sense of a kind and forgiving aura about it, something that made the smile not so frightening and made Brinda calm.

For once, Brinda saw past her fear and the psychopathic deer, didn't seem quite so scary any more.

"I got in the way entirely on my own, you didn't make me." She smiled again, softly and sweetly and devoid of any kind of insane or dangerous glint. She held her smile at Brinda for a moment longer, before turning away and glancing over towards the stage to watch the performance.

On stage her mother didn't seem to notice her in the crowd, but that was understandable, the room was completely full and their were probably a few people standing outside in the hallways of the buildings.

But she didn't mind.

If anything she found it nice to know that her mother wasn't specifically looking out for her in the crowded room. She knew very well just how over motherly she could be and at times it could be a little over bearing, as a child she nearly tried to baby-proof the whole hotel and even made her uncle Husk wear marshmallows on his sharp claws so that he wouldn't accidentally cut her.

But that's what a mother is for, she could only hope that she wasn't like that if she became a mother, word being IF she became one.

....something again had settled itself on Brinda. Something that made her feel sad and a tad sorrowful, the feeling grew stronger at the sight of the deer and the words she spoke so kindly to her. A orange cat demon, thinking it was always best to not judge by appearances, looks could be deceiving she would say.

And yet here she was..right from the start Brinda had judged the deer and had distanced herself from her to the point where even she was maybe starting to believe that it was getting unnecessary.

But here, here the deer had just stepped in for her when she was the one that was supposed to be slapped, she had taken the blow, and then not only that, she had beaten the man to a near pulp, all the while protecting her as well as herself.

And then here she was saying that it wasn't her fault that she was slapped!!

....it was the familiar feeling of guilt, and it was bitting into her like some of mad dog without chains.

"....I'm sorry." Although surprised at what she said Maizy remained tranquil and calmly turned her head over to Brinda, humming "Sorry, what was that??" Brinda lifted her gaze a little to search her face for any kind of trace of humour or smugness, but she only found a look of genuine confusion.

Brinda sighed, head hanging low and wishing that she had the comfort of Velvet or Tristan for a reassuring hug right about now. "I-I'm..I'm sorry Maizy.." It took her every ounce of bravery to look Maizy in the eye.

Maixy blinked, and then shook her head.

"I told you earlier kitten, you don't need to he sorry for-"

"No no!!" Brinda waved her paws lightly in a pacifist like manner and shook her head "Not for the slap I..." she suddenly became nervous again, lowering her paws to rest on the desk as she slowly made circles with her claw "I, um..I meant for earlier..like, when we all first came here.." when Maizy only continued to look confused Brinda continued.

"I...I judged you when we first came here.." her voice had lowered as did her head "I..I was mostly just scared, a-and I let what I saw get to me before I got to know you.." she gave a sad sigh, a quite one "..You may act different to my Velvet but, that doesn't justify the way I treated you...it wasn't right and, I should have known better.."

There was a pause

"I'm sorry..." Maizy blinked, this was certainly unexpected. As much as she did want an apology, she was honestly dryly bored of people avoiding her for the large ear to ear grin she was born with, but she most certainly didn't think that the shy blonde cat of all demons would be the only one to give her one.

Brinda reminded silent, decided to be quite and waiting for Maizy to say something, if she ever would say something that is as she had been quite for some time now...a little too long.

'Oh dear, she's being really quite!! Did I say it wrong?! Was I too sappy?? Oh I knew I should have gotten straight to the point, stupid cat!!'

Maixy stared at the dejected looking demon as if she was ready for whatever kind of punishment she deserved from her. Maizy did truthfully feel touched by Brinda's sincere apology, but she was never angry at her from the beginning, many people before her had done it, and she knew that Brinda wouldn't be the last.

Maizy shook her head "Brinda." The fact that Maizy actually used her name instead of a nickname showed just how serious she was, but she didn't sound serious "There is no reason for you to apologise to me. Yes, I was hurt when I realised that you were acting jumpy round me." Brinda whinced at the statement, but Maizy continued

"..But you are forgiven."

"Really??" Brinda looked up to her, she clearly wasn't expecting forgiveness as it showed clearly in her face, Maizy chuckled lightly, humoured at her reaction but not in a mean or offending way "Yea dear, you're forgi-"

"Oh thank you thank you thank you!!" Maizy wasn't prepared when two arms suddenly glomped her in a hug and pulled her close, pulling her right off her chair. Maizy blinked, paralysed a second before she looked up to Brinda.

She could hear her purring as she nuzzled her cheek into the top of her head, and for the first time she had seen her through out her stay here, Maizy saw her smile. It was bright and wide and beaming with happiness, you could tell that she was the daughter to Charlie.

She was actually very soft, and eventually Maizy hugged back, despite not being a huge fan on strangers invading her personal space. How long the two had sat their she didn't know, hugging it out like friends while Brinda was actually holding Maizy off the floor (against Brinda Maizy was very small and was maybe just under half the length of the cat)

Eventually though the two let each other go and, after a few more hours of talking to learn more about the other, the two decided that it would be time to perhaps try and get some sleep, it was getting very late.

Brinda yawned, raising a paw to her mouth and blinking slowly "Thank you for letting for letting me come with you Maizy..and for um, earlier..." Maixy smiled up at her new tall friend, this time her smile didn't make Brinda shiver "Nothing to worry about dear, I honestly find it quite entertaining, nice to have a little bit of excitement every now and then."

At this stage the stinging in her cheek had died down and the pain was gone, granted it was still a little bit swollen but she knew that of course that it would have died down by the time she woke up in the morning-

"Well well well.." Maizy stopped, ears perked. That voice..it was all too familiar to her and, instantly, the grip on her staff became stronger as she turned to face the ugly owner of the voice.

Brinda jolted at the sight of him, quickly ducking behind the much smaller Maizy and trying to conceal herself with her overly massive red wings. "Hey there girls, ya miss me?~"

"Hardly." Maizy answered straight after in a dead pan voice, already bored at the mans pathetic attempts to intimate her, unlike Brinda who was cowering and shaking behind her. The man glared at her "Well too bad you short-stack doe."

"Wow, well that 'insult'-" she did quotation marks with her hands "Was just sooo much better." Sarcasm dripped with every word as the man gave an enraged growl, making Maizy's smile widened and become rather smug looking.

"Okay you sick smilin' prick-" the man pulled a small black tube from his belt and aimed the weapon in Maizy's direction, she did nothing but raise a brow, failing to even flinch. Brinda only curled up more into a ball and began mumbling small reassurances to herself.

"Why don't you go run along and go prancing in some meadow and go find Bambi-" he leaned sideways slightly, and he gave a very hungry disgustingly dirty look towards the shivering cat demon, Maizy could feel her eye twitching "And I'll take care of yer friend their, she looks as if she could use a man to..." he paused a brief moment "Show her some fun-"

Maizy made a tutting noise, shaking her head like a mother "Honestly, why men like sex so much more then women I will never no..but please do yourself a favour." Maixy innocently inspected her staff, tapping the small orange tip at the end and making a noise of satisfaction as it momentarily glowed at her touch.

"I'm tired and I want to go to bed, and I really don't want to have to get our new carpets dirty." She passed a concerned look down towards the carpet beneath them "Go do yourself a favour and, run along." She waved a hand "Shoo shoo..."

She went to turn round and assist Brinda to her feet, but a small clicking noise behind her made her stop and her ear turned to the sound behind her "Why don't I rephrase that.." Sighing in irritation and rubbing the skin between her eyes Maizy boredly turned to the man, he was slowly walking forward, his gun aimed at her head

Oh how terrifying......

"You get the fuck out of my sight, and I'll take her friend away so I can f-"

BANG

Someone had fired a bullet dead at the mans weapon, sending it flying out his hand and sliding across the floor. Both Maizy, Brinda and the man looked to the now damaged weapon that had a large mark were the bullet had collided with it, their was no way it could be used again.

"That was a warning shot." Mako stepped out of the shadowed doorway, his gun smoking at the tube were the bullet was fired. He offered the rude man a glare that could shame stone itself as he re-aimed his gun, ready to shot

"Get out of here." He gestured with a tilt of his weapon to the doorway.

The man growled, but knew that if he ran to his weapon he would definitely be shot, and by the look of the wolfs clothing and the scars over his eye, he could guess that this wolf was most likely more experience with a gun then himself.

"Oh yeah??" He scoffed "And why the hell should I-"

BANG BANG

The man cursed loudly and collapsed to the floor when two bullets ripped through into his shoulder, blood gushed from the open wounds and the pain felt like a tiny thousands knives were probing his raw flesh and hot coal was burning his skin.

Mako took a step closer, reloading the gun with fresh amo before he turned it back down to the man "I won't say it again." Mako bent down and hoisted the man off the floor, lifting him off for a few seconds before he harshly shoved him back towards the door, nearly making him topple over backwards.

"Get out."

The man sat their, face white with fear before they turned on their foot drunkly and ran out of the doorway, Mako could hear them biting back a swear as his hurried footsteps gradually became less and less audible.

Once he was sure he was gone, he placed his gun back into its rightful holder on his belt.

....he turned round. And as he thought, both girls were giving him a questionable slightly surprised look, Brinda more then Maizy who had finally poked her head out from under her protective shield of her wings.

Mako looked at them from over his shoulder, not turned to fully look at them. Without a word, he turned off and walked up the stairs of the opposite side of the room, not even glancing or asking if either girls were injured, as he escalated the stairs and walked off down the upper hallway....

#Hazbin

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zelenacat · 3 years

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When We Were Young- Chapter 24- An Obitine Story

Lunch was served in the main hall, but Satine did not attend. Instead, she sent Korkie, Khaami, Parna, and Hera in her place. Parna had returned with multiple copies of the audio, which were hidden all over the palace. Tristan and Tyra were engaged in espionage activities, so Satine ate her lunch in silence and then slept. Her night up with the twins had suddenly hit her and in the moment she could barely keep her eyes open.

“Your Grace?”

The Duchess groaned.

“Please, Lady Mother,” Tyra whispered, “I have news from the Council.”

Satine rolled over to find Khaami and Parna preparing a new outfit.

“What-”

“Almost dinner,” Tyra pulled her mother up, “and we have much to discuss.”

The Duchess was wearing one of her favorite gowns, the one she wore to meet Padme all those years ago when she was Queen of Naboo. It was blue and purple ombre with the Mandalorian star system embroidered on it.

“You look glorious, Lady Mother.” Tyra clapped.

Satine snorted, “Thank you, darling, but this girdle feels less than glorious.”

Parna laughed.

Khaami raised an eyebrow but couldn’t stop herself from smiling, “The news, Tyra.”

“Right,” Satine noticed her daughter was already dressed, “there was an ancient Sith who is believed to hide a powerful relic here, they say it’s on Concordia.”

The Duchess huffed.

“There’s more,” Tyra frowned sympathetically, “the Jedi believe he wanted to frame you for the creation of Death Watch to turn the people against you.”

Satine shook her head, “I hate those same old tricks.”

“Finally,” Tyra continued, “Mara and Boba have captured a couple criminals and are holding them in the cellar.”

The Duchess’ eyes went wide, “All this happened while I was asleep?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Khaami answered, fastening a ring of pearls around the Duchess’ neck, “Tristan is currently dressed as a regular servant and has been delivering the Count’s necessities.”

“Oh, poor Tristan.” Satine frowned.

“He’s doing well,” Parna assured, “we hope he’ll overhear something.”

Satine nodded, picking up her pearl-drop tiara.

“I want to see these vagrants before lunch,” she turned to Tyra, “please take me.”

The dungeon was a place Satine rarely was, and the last time had been because she was betrayed once again, so she was not looking forward to it. Fortunately, Mara and Boba clearly didn’t feel the same way.

“Mara,” Tyra gasped at the scene before them, “what is this!”

Sheepish, Mara extracted herself from Boba’s grip, “Hi, Tyra.”

“We’re dating,” Boba grinned, giving the Duchess a polite nod, “took Mara long enough.”

Satine raised an eyebrow, Tyra squealed.

“The criminals?” the Duchess prodded.

“Yes,” Mara blushed, “I’ll take you, Tyra must have special duties to attend to.”

Tyra turned to her mother, who nodded.

“We shall discuss this, Mara.” Tyra warned, wagging her finger before leaving.

Boba gave Mara a look, and she giggled.

“The criminals?” Satine asked again.

“Down the hall,” Mara pointed, “we’ll take you.”

As they approached the cells, Boba warned them not to get too close to the shields, but when Satine saw who was in jail, she took a step closer.

“Viceroy Gunray?”

The man’s head snapped up.

“Duchess Satine,” his voice made her skin curdle, “there clearly has been a mistake.”

“Certainly,” the Duchess agreed, “you were most certainly not invited, unless of course, you happen to be allied with the Separatists and are here to stir up trouble among the Mandalorian people?”

“I assure you, Your Grace-”

“Are you aware of what I am accusing you of, Viceroy,” Satine asked, a harsh edge to her voice, “will you answer my questions?”

Gunray sneered, “The Mandalorians are a peaceful people.”

“But we do not take kindly to nefarious acts that brew discord in our system,” Satine countered, “you can be sure Mandalore’s heritage is still dear to many of us.”

“You would not risk war.” the Viceroy stated.

“With who,” Satine questioned, “the Trading Federation? You have no army of your own.”

“No,” Gunray narrowed his eyes, “but Count Dooku-”

“Is courting me,” the Duchess interjected, “so, you see, I have nothing to lose if you’re threatening me with people whom I curry favor.”

Boba Fett cracked his knuckles.

The Viceroy frowned, “You can’t keep me here.”

“I can keep you as long as I want,” Satine raised an eyebrow, “but if you are friendly with the Separatists, perhaps you would like to explain that to the Republic Senate?”

“You couldn’t-”

Satine pressed her comm and a small form of Padme appeared.

“Senator Amidala?”

Padme turned.

“I hate to bother you, Padme, you do look quite busy,” Satine began, “but Viceroy Gunray has been sneaking around Mandalore on the word and protection of Separatists, and I think you’d like to talk to him.”

Padme frowned and turned to face the Viceroy, “Yes, I most certainly would, although perhaps this should be done with more Senators present.”

The Duchess nodded, “I will schedule a meeting.”

Satine turned to Mara and nodded, she curtsied and went off.

“Friends with criminals,” Gunray observed, “your reputation clearly needs revisiting, Duchess.”

“Apparently,” Satine countered, “so does yours.”

With that, she beckoned to Boba Fett and left.

“Any other important ones?” Satine asked.

“A few,” the bounty Hunter nodded, “your guards and I will question them.”

“Thank you,” the Duchess nodded, “and do look after Mara for me.”

Boba Fett’s eyes narrowed, “She has a pin, you know, with your house colors on it.”

Satine only nodded.

“I work with your sister-in-law,” Boba added, “she’d love to meet you.”

The Duchess smirked, “Tell her to learn some manners first.”

Parna met Satine at the entrance to the dungeons.

“The meeting is scheduled,” she stated, bending to clean off the Duchess’ dress, “and the Count is waiting for you.”

“Thank you, Parna.”

“Also,” the lady stood and lowered her voice, “the Jedi are sending an expedition team to Concordia.”

“Thank you,” the Duchess repeated, “I shall keep that in mind.”

Satine met the Count at the breakfast table, her full retinue already there to entertain him.

“Ah, Duchess,” Dooku smiled, “you look lovely.”

“Your Excellency is most kind,” Satine replied coolly.

The Count raised an eyebrow, “Still tired I imagine?”

It took everything Satine had in her not to reveal what she knew of his deceit.

“You make for a very trying guest, Your Excellency.”

A couple noblewomen around the table laughed. At that moment, Tyra and Hera entered, bearing platters of traditional Mandalorian cuisine along with other servants. Dooku’s eyes lingered on Tyra too long for her liking.

“I don’t believe I’ve met these ladies.” the Count observed.

“My maids,” Satine gestured, “Tyra and Hera.”

Both curtsied.

“So young.” Dooku added.

“Certainly you wouldn’t object to training the young early?” Satine asked, bitterness in her tone.

Count Dooku smiled, “I most certainly would not.”

And so, breakfast began. The older Countesses, Bralor, Eldar, and Saxon, made a point of judging Dooku openly.

“And what makes you think you are worthy of Mandalore, Your Excellency.” Countess Saxon had the audacity to ask.

Satine grinned.

The Count shrugged, “An ancient empire needs a modern one to ally with.”

Ursa Wren ground her teeth. Currently, she wasn’t talking to Satine since Sabine had been discovered as a spy and sent to a special school for rebellious children. The Duchess wasn’t pleased with the Count’s answer either, however, and decided to go on the offensive.

“At least the Republic’s army is alive.”

“Yes,” Dooku smirked into his soup, “alive.”

Satine made a mental note to ask Obi-Wan about that statement.

“I didn’t know you were friendly with the Master Jedi.”

The Duchess practically growled, “It is impolite to intrude on personal boundaries, Count, I suppose as you weren’t born nobility you wouldn’t know that.”

Dooku’s frown set deeper.

“Yara,” Satine smiled politely, “what do you think of my new sister-in-law?”

Countess Eldar grinned, “I should’ve known you’d heard.”

The Duchess gave a pleasant giggle, “Oh, I hear everything.”

“I think it’s quite like your sister to match herself like that.” Ursa commented.

“Very true,” Satine turned to the Count, “tell me of your former apprentice, Your Excellency, do you think we should invite her and my sister to court?”

Now it was the Count’s turn to grind his teeth, “I think that decision is best left up to Your Grace.”

Satine nodded, pretending like she didn’t already know this.

Lunch was finished, and the Duchess invited the Count on a stroll through the gardens, he accepted.

“Parna, Khaami,” she announced, “you will trail us.”

Satine made a point to focus on specifically Mandalorian details of the garden, then, seemingly out of nowhere, asked if it would be seen as a traditional alignment to support enemies of the Jedi.

Dooku actually smiled, “I think many would view it that way, yes.”

“But my people must choose,” Satine’s face darkened, “Padme and I agreed on that.”

“You did, did you?” the Count tilted his head.

Satine nodded, hoping he couldn’t hear her heartbeat. Was that a force user power?

“Well, I suppose you can be friends,” he sighed, “until we marry.”

“You presume to know me.” Satine snapped.

“I know you don’t care for me.”

The Duchess turned to look at the Count.

“Our union, however,” Dooku began, carefully choosing his words, “would be very beneficial.”

“You seem to think so.”

Count Dooku grabbed Satine’s arm, “I’ve seen them, no one has to know about your bastards that smell like Master Kenobi.”

The Duchess froze, her limbs cold.

“Ah yes, I know.”

Satine began to shake.

“Marry me and no one will know.” the Count offered.

“I’ll play my part,” Satine told Dooku, gritting her teeth, “but expect a long courtship.”

Count Dooku left early, he said it was business. It did, however, kiss Satine’s cheek upon departing, which caused quite the stir on Mandalore. Now, it was evening.

“He seems awful.” Korkie mused as the Duchess and her children waited.

“Terribly,” Mara agreed, “but he knows about our father.”

As she said this, Satine noticed a ship wading through the dark sky.

“What do you know, Tristan?” the Duchess asked, sensing his unease.

“Many of my classmates are slightly horrified, or aggressive.”

“He will have to prove himself ‘worthy of Mandalore’.” Tyra added.

The ship got closer, and Satine told Mara and Tristan to wait in her personal parlor.

“Lady Mother,” Korkie whispered, “I’m worried for you.”

“So am I.” Tyra agreed.

“Thank you, children,” Satine squeezed her children’s hands, “I appreciate your concern.”

Master Aayla Secura got off the ship and Satine counted herself surprised, then Ahsoka disembarked and the Duchess was put at ease.

“I wasn’t aware I would be having such distinguished guests.” Satine told Master Secura.

“After such a famous visitor you mean?” the Jedi questioned.

“I’m just glad he’s gone.” Satine replied honestly.

“Hey, Kork, whaddup?”

“The sky, Ahsoka,” Korkie smirked, “not that you would know that.”

The Padawan feigned offense, “Dear me, what a burn.”

Tyra snorted.

“Padawan Tyra,” Master Secura nodded, “you have been very helpful.”

“Wow really? That’s a first!”

Master Secura smirked, “I hope the Duchess appreciated your enthusiasm.”

“This Padawan is certainly a handful.”

“Master Vos would agree.”

Satine gave Obi-Wan a smile resplendent of the sun.

“And did he tell you as such?”

“I know her well enough.”

Aayla cleared her throat.

“Korkie, Tyra,” Satine turned, “be a good host and show our guests to their rooms.”

The Duchess watched happily as her children moved through the palace with ease, and she grinned to herself.

“Dead!”

Satine jumped. Out of the shadows slithered Asajj Ventress, with Bo-Katan behind her. The Duchess frowned.

“Interesting,” Ventress grinned, “I didn’t know you were Mrs. Kenobi.”

The Duchess opened her mouth to defend herself.

“Everybody knows now, Satine,” Bo-Katan waved dismissively, “after a moment like that I’m surprised there aren’t riots.”

Trying to suppress her blush, the Duchess asked if they planned to stay.

“We didn’t get a chance to capture the Count,” Ventress frowned, “he left early.”

“There was no time to-”

Ventress reached out and shoved Satine, who stumbled backwards onto the pavement.

“Excuses are useless with me,” the witch warned, “do not use them.”

Shocked, Satine remained on the floor.

“Get up, sister,” Bo-Katan huffed, “you look like a fish.”

“Satine!”

Suddenly, Obi-Wan was beside her.

“How-”

Reaching out with the force, Obi-Wan threw Ventress into a mass of sculpted hedges.

“Are you well, darling?” the Jedi asked, picking her up.

“Ben,” Satine blushed, “how heroic.”

“Ugh,” Bo-Katan spat on the ground, “spare me.”

“Your manners have worsened, Obi-Wan.” Ventress called.

“They may have,” Obi-Wan admitted, “but I thought matrilineal cultures praised women who just gave birth.”

A beat of silence.

“Satine,” Bo-Katan sighed, “no.”

“You’ll never see them, Bo,” Satine promised, “they won’t bother you.”

Ventress smirked, “A family man, Obi-Wan, how interesting.”

“I could say the same about you,” the Jedi countered, “you’re married.”

Bo-Katan raised an eyebrow, “And you’re not?”

Satine looked down and blushed.

“Oh, sister,” Bo-Katan clapped, “you have bastards!”

“That’s not true,” Satine huffed, face still red, “my children are royalty.”

“How many children do you have?” Ventress asked after a pause.

Satine bit her lip.

“Six.” Obi-Wan answered.

Ventress’ jaw dropped.

“Oh, Satine,” Bo-Katan whined, “I thought you were better than that.”

The Duchess was about to answer when Tristan called down from above.

“The Jedi are asking for you, Lady Mother!”

Bo-Katan blanched, “Is that Tristan Wren?”

“I’ll be right up, Tristan!” Satine called.

Ventress clicked her tongue and shook her head.

Satine fluttered her eyelashes, “Carry me, Obi?”

“Of course, my angel.”

Bo-Katan groaned, but Satine paid her sister no mind. Instead, she squealed and grabbed onto Obi-Wan as he jumped impossibly high and landed on Satine’s balcony.

“Wow, Dad,” Mara snorted, “be more chivalrous will you?”

“That’s a big word, Mara.” Tristan teased.

“I learned it from Lady Mother’s library.”

Obi-Wan placed Satine down.

“Ben, this is Tristan, and this is Mara,” she gestured, “our second set of twins.”

The Jedi’s eyes glowed as he hugged both his children.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Sixteen now,” Tristan answered, “and I’m older than Mara.”

Mara huffed.

“Your Grace,” Jaym’s voice accompanied a knock, “the Jedi are asking for you.”

“I’ll be right out.” Satine promised.

The Duchess turned to her children.

“Behave yourselves.”

The twins looked at each other, then giggled. After an exaggerated sigh, Satine left to find Master Secura and Ahsoka.

The Padawan saw her first, “Momdalore!”

Satine smiled, “You all asked to see me.”

Master Secura shot Ahsoka a look.

“Remember your manners, Padawan.” Aayla frowned.

Ahsoka grinned, “Of course, Master Secura.”

“Duchess,” the Jedi Master turned, “we’re here to search for spyware or anything the Count might’ve left behind.”

“I’ll take you to where his quarters were,” Satine gestured, “although I don’t know what you’ll find.”

Satine sent Tyra and Korkie to her personal parlor while she allowed Aayla and Ahsoka to search.

“Be polite to your father.” the Duchess whispered.

Tyra winked.

“Momdalore,” Ahsoka piped up, crawling on the floor, “why didn’t you let Death Watch capture Count Dooku?”

“He left early,” Satine responded, “there was no time to warn my sister and have it not be suspicious.”

“He kissed your cheek.” Aayla pointed out.

“I was there,” Satine nodded, “I remember.”

Ahsoka snorted.

“Duchess Satine,” Master Secura, sighed, “the Council needs your assistance with a secret.”

The Duchess raised an eyebrow.

“Master Anakin Skywalker is married to Senator Padme Amidala.”

Satine laughed, she certainly wasn’t expecting to hear that. Even Ahsoka joined in.

“You knew?”

The Duchess hesitated, “Yes.”

“Your Grace,” Master Secura frowned, “this is a great offense against the Jedi code.”

“Senator Amidala is my friend, Master Jedi.” Satine countered.

Aayla nodded, “I understand, but I tell you this to warn you.”

The Duchess frowned, “Warm me?”

“Master Kenobi wants to leave the Jedi Order after the war,” Master Secura stated, “he confessed it was because he loved you.”

Ahsoka gasped, Satine had forgotten she was there. In a burst of emotion, the Duchess collapsed onto a chaise lounge with a sob and let tears of joy roll down her face.

“Oh, Momdalore,” Ahsoka stroked Satine’s head, “it’s alright.”

“Are you pleased?”

Trying to collect herself, Satine nodded.

“I advise Your Grace to be careful then,” Master Secura’s face softened, “it seems you’ve already picked your side.”

“Thank you,” Satine dabbed at her eyes, “Master Jedi.”

“Please,” the Jedi helped her up, “call me Aayla.”

Satine thanked Aayla and excused herself, when she arrived in her personal parlor, her children and their father were happily chatting, exchanging jokes and funny stories. Satine paused for a moment to admire the beauty of the scene, it was really all she’d ever wanted.

“Satine,” Obi-Wan smiled, “come in.”

The Duchess tripped as she made her way to Obi-Wan, who caught her in his arms.

“I knew you loved me.”

“If six children didn’t tell you that,” Satine grinned, lifting her head, “I don’t know what will.”

Obi-Wan scooped up the Duchess and placed her in his lap.

“Now, tell me children-”

At that moment, Bo-Katan and Ventress appeared on the balcony. Obi-Wan growled, Satine put a hand to his chest to hush him. Bo-Katan gaped.

“Wow, Obi-Wan,” Ventress remarked, “you have quite a large amount of offspring, but there only seems to be four of six.”

Bo-Katan recovered her senses, “Satine, are you out of your mind!”

“Bo-”

“A Jedi,” her sister asked, “I mean, I knew you hated tradition, but really?”

“Bo-”

“I’m not done,” Bo-Katan announced, “what would our parents say?”

“To be fair,” Obi-Wan interjected, “your parents were the ones who requested Jedi protection all those years ago.”

Bo-Katan blinked, “Oh, as if that’s an excuse.”

“I didn’t know the Duke of Sundari was yours though, Obi-Wan,” Ventress grinned, “a real fan of monarchies are you?”

Satine flinched.

“You lied,” Bo-Katan frowned, “you created a false brother and sullied our father’s name to hide your own transgressions, you lied?”

“Bo,” Satine held up her hands, “I can explain.”

“What is there to explain-”

“Bo-”

The door burst open and Gorg ran in with Jaym. Satine clamored out of her Jedi’s arms.

“Escort them out,” Satine ordered.

Bo-Katan snarled, “We’re not done here.”

Mara stood, “How dare you speak to my mother like that.”

Bo-Katan raised an eyebrow.

“It’s awfully rude of you.” Tyra agreed, assuming a fighting stance.

Ventress tensed.

“The Duchess of Mandalore should be treated with respect.” Tristan added.

Bo-Katan turned to Korkie.

“I’m sorry, Auntie Bo,” he stood, “but what my Lady Mother did was right.”

At this time, Ahsoka and Aayla appeared in the doorway with Jaym,

“Ventress,” Obi-Wan stood, hands out, “I suggest you follow the Duchess’ orders.”

Bo-Katan was fuming.

“Come on, Babe,” Ventress growled, “we should teach these self entitled brats a lesson.”

“It’s a foolish fight,” Bo-Katan glared at Satine, “you can’t fight someone who cheats, we’ll get them later.”

“Bo,” the Duchess begged, “you will get a chance to capture him.”

“You lie.” her sister spat.

“No,” Ventress stated, everyone paused, “he’s proposed to you.”

Obi-Wan turned to her, Satine swallowed.

“I’ve accepted.”

Pandemonium erupted. Bo-Katan lunged at Satine, but Tyra threw her out of the way. Ventress then ignited her lightsaber, but so did Obi-Wan.

“What is this?”

Satine, who had stumbled backward, stood to face Master Secura.

“There is much to discuss,” the Duchess stated, “but my sister and her wife decided to pay us a visit.”

Ventress snarled.

“We were just leaving,” Bo-Katan announced, “tell us when the wedding is.”

#obitine #Duchess Satine #satine kryze #satine x obiwan #obi wan kenobi #obiwan #korkie kenobi #korkie kryze #Bo-Katan Kryze #asajj ventress

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johaerys-writes · 3 years

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Dorian Pavus/Trevelyan

A World With You, Chapter 39: Rebel Song

The gang returns to the war-torn Orlesian countryside, and the welcome they receive is far from warm. Banter and action, this time with even more terrible jokes because Sera has come with :’D

Read on AO3! Or read from the beginning

Tristan rubbed his eyes with a yawn. The steady rocking of his horse and the thick, humid heat was making him sleepy. His backside wasn’t at its best either, admittedly: they had been riding for the better part of the week, and this day was already drawing near its end.

The journey through the Orlesian countryside had been everything that Tristan had expected, and worse. So, so much worse. His advisors had warned him that things would be different from when he had last been to the place, but even their expectations had been inaccurate, by a fairly large margin.

He and his party had followed the Imperial Highway for as long as they could- the only road, really, that was still accessible to travellers for the most part. Most other great roads, as the various Inquisition agents at the outposts they had stopped along the way had informed them, had been closed off by the barricades set up by either Gaspard’s or Celene’s armies, or were unsafe for small groups to traverse. That, too, was new: the number of outlaws and bandits had increased tenfold during the months Tristan had been away- and it hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing the last time, either. Last time around it had been bands of Freemen roaming the land- this time, it was men and women that evidently had even less than the deserters from the armies to lose and preyed on whoever was poor or desperate enough to travel the countryside alone without arms or protection. They were vicious, but cowardly, never taking on large or armed groups, and swore no allegiance to anyone at all.

Which raised the question: where were the Freemen?

“There haven’t been any sightings in weeks, Ser,” an Inquisition scout informed him, when they’d stopped for the night at an Inquisition camp just past Lydes. “After word has spread of your victory in the Emerald Graves, most of their camps were deserted soon after. Some say that they’ve returned to their homes, those who still had one, while others claim they have all moved out of the plains and gone to the West, where there are still empty places for them to settle, and no one to come after them.”

“The West?” Tristan had asked the young woman in curiosity. “There’s nothing past here at all, and all western roads lead to the Badlands. Even the Freemen that are left cannot be that desperate.”

The scout had simply shrugged.

It didn’t make much sense to Tristan- but then again, not much of what the Freemen did made sense to him. For the next few days, as they steadily trudged along the Imperial Highway, alongside throngs of refugees and the occasional merchant caravan that was still bold enough to brave the war-torn countryside, they kept passing by abandoned camps, or the old manors and watchtowers that had been claimed, rummaged, and then left to ruin by the Freemen. Apart from the occasional travel weary and worn down infantry division from either Celene’s or Gaspard’s armies, whose officers merely pretended to keep an eye over the towns and villages that had been claimed during the war, the only other people they encountered were beggars or tired and scared men, women and children with dirt smudged faces and clothes that were about to fall off their skinny shoulders.

Orlais really, really couldn’t get much worse than this.

With a sigh, Tristan straightened on his saddle, rolled his shoulders, tilted his head this way and that. Travelling on horseback all day did not agree with him, and the devastation all around him did nothing to lift his mood. He could feel his stomach churning and his head throbbing ever so slightly as the rays of the setting sun fell straight into his eyes. The only thing that settled his upset stomach on those days was his fine Antivan brandy, though he had been careful not to drink too much. He needed to stay alert, and the humid heat that surrounded them like a blanket took most of the edge off all by itself. Tristan could already feel his eyelids drooping, and it wasn’t even nightfall yet.

Well. One swig couldn’t hurt much, could it?

From atop his bay gelding, Dorian shot him a curious look when he saw him tipping his flak over his lips. Tristan swallowed the mouthful of brandy, then raised his eyebrows at him in question.

“How come you still have enough of this?” Dorian asked him in a low voice, steering his horse so he was riding beside him. “I thought you would have finished it days ago.”

“I’ve been careful with it,” Tristan replied as he carefully screwed the flask’s cap shut. “I only brought the one, and we still have weeks ahead of us. What?” he asked when Dorian blinked.

“Nothing, nothing. I’m just… impressed that’s all.”

“Are you? I don’t know whether to feel proud or concerned that you think my resolve so brittle.”

“Brittle?” Dorian chuckled softly, “Not at all. I don’t know anyone that’s more stubborn than you are, in fact.”

“Except for you, you mean?” Dorian rolled his eyes, and Tristan grinned. How he liked to tease him. His lips that pursed ever so slightly, his eyebrow that lifted just a bit, the rueful little glances he shot him out of the corner of his eye before he looked away. How he managed to be irresistible even when irked, Tristan could never understand. It made him want to tease him all the more.

“In any case,” Tristan said casually, slipping the flask back in his coat pocket, “if you wanted a sip, all you had to do is ask. I’ve seen how you keep eyeing my flask.”

Dorian huffed a laugh. “Trust me, amatus, your flask is the last thing I keep eyeing.”

“Yeah, amatusss, your ‘flask’ is the last thing he’s been eyeing,” Sera snickered from the next horse over. “The first thing he’s been eyeing is your—”

“Sera,” Dorian hissed in warning. “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare.”

“What? I was only going to say his arse.”

Dorian turned to glare at her, outrage writ all over his face. Sera burst out in wicked, high pitched laughter that made several of the weary travellers that were trailing alongside them on the Highway stop and gawk at them. Tristan bit his lip down hard to stop himself from laughing as well, but it wasn’t long before Dorian’s murderous glare was directed at him.

“You, too?” Dorian asked him pointedly.

Tristan gave him an apologetic little smile, still trying to stop himself from following Sera’s example, who seemed incredibly amused at having riled Dorian. “I mean,” he said in a strained voice, trying his best to keep a straight face, “she’s probably right. You’re not very subtle.”

Dorian clicked his tongue and punched him lightly on the shoulder, just as Sera slapped her thigh and cackled even more loudly. She laughed until her brown gelding whinnied in protest to her jerky movements and tossed its head back, causing Sera to almost lose her balance.

Dorian sniffed in disdain, then kicked his horse forward, his back straight and his head held high in defiance.

“Oh, come on—” Tristan laughed, following him with Almond. “It was just a joke!”

“No, it wasn’t!” Sera cackled after them both. “I call them like I see them!”

“Not listening!” Dorian replied with a wave of his hand, his golden rings glittering in the disappearing evening light.

From atop his horse, Iron Bull let out a deep, throaty chuckle. He stood almost two heads taller than everyone else, sitting tall and straight on the enormous draft horse Master Dennet had managed to find for him. It was a tough and calm mount, slow but sure footed, meant to draw carriages and plough carts rather than being ridden, but there had been no other horse suitable for the large Qunari.

It’s no Asaarash, Iron Bull had said when he saw it, but it will have to do. Better than my own legs could, anyhow.

“With all the racket you three keep making," he said, "I’m surprised no Freemen have come crawling out of their hideouts to attack us. I would kill for some entertainment right now.” He winked at Solas, who was riding beside him on his chestnut coloured hart, “Get it, Solas? Kill for entertainment?”

Solas let out a small, exasperated sigh. “Yes, I do get it, Iron Bull. Unfortunately, the jest continues to be lost on me, as it has been the last five times you said it.”

“Ah, that’s ‘cause none of you can appreciate a good joke,” Bull laughed with a dismissive wave. “I tell you, those guys are just hiding in the bushes, waiting for us to lower our guard.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Want to bet on it?” Bull grinned.

Solas only frowned and looked ahead of him.

After this, they rode for a while in blissful silence, with Dorian’s annoyed pout relenting only after Tristan promised not to tease him again, then proceeded to peel an apple for him and carve it in the shape of a duck with one of his sharpest knives. It didn't look particularly good, but the apple was still sweet and crisp, and a soft blush had crept up Dorian's cheeks when he'd accepted it, so Tristan couldn't complain much.

Darkness fell all around them, and with it heavy clouds gathered overhead and a thick layer of mist covered the earth. The terrain changed slowly and steadily, with the tall grasses giving way to small thickets dispersed through the expansive land, and the flat plains rising in low, rolling hills. The air was so thick and humid that it made Tristan’s clothes stick to his skin, and the horses’ movements slow and sluggish. It wasn’t long before a droplet fell on his head, then another. Soon, raindrops were gliding past Tristan’s collar and the openings of his boots, warm like sweat.

“We’ll need to find shelter soon,” Tristan told them all, squinting in the half dark. The people travelling alongside them had dispersed with the approaching dusk and the rain, until it was just the five of them on the wide, hard packed dirt road. They should have reached the Inquisition outpost close to Verchiel a good two hours before, but the barricade that had been set up by Celene's soldiers at the Fleurcolline passage had greatly delayed them. Now they were stuck in the middle of nowhere, and with not much hope of reaching the outpost until dawn came.

“We can’t ride for long in this weather," Tristan said, gathering his coat around him, "and it’s dangerous to travel after dark.”

The rest of his party didn’t seem overly pleased to continue travelling like this either, with Dorian muttering curses under his breath as he wrapped himself in his leather overcoat, and Sera’s gelding tossing its head back in annoyance whenever the elf fidgeted on the saddle, which was a near constant occurrence. Bull and Solas seemed far less perturbed by the foul weather, yet no less tired.

“Shall we set up camp?” Solas asked, looking around.

“If you can find a decent spot,” Tristan grumbled. There was open space all around them, with only a few thickets of miserable trees that would probably not provide any shelter from the rain. The ground, too, was covered in mud, and he didn’t relish the notion of sleeping in a soddy tent, or having a miserable dinner of hardtack and cold cheese. Even Dorian’s and Solas’ magic couldn’t keep a fire going for long if there was no dry wood to be found.

He let his gaze wander off into the distance, and was rewarded when he saw flickering lights, not too far ahead. A glance at his map confirmed his hopes; there was a small town nearby, one that the agents of the Inquisition they had last met had said was amongst the last standing this side of Orlais.

“What are we waiting for, then?” Sera asked when Tristan drew all of their attention to the village. “On we go, chop chop! Been dying for a mug of ale for hours.”

Solas glanced at the lights warily. “Do you know who is in charge of this town?”

“No one, as far as the scouts knew,” Tristan answered. Horville, as the place was called, used to be a crossroads town, meant for merchant caravans to stop and rest their horses and riders. Most of the buildings were inns and shops, with only a few houses for the people who worked there. After the war had broken out, it had been primarily frequented by the infantry and cavalry divisions that crossed the plains from time to time, staying only for a short while before moving on to the next post. It had been intentionally kept as a neutral ground of sorts, with no one army claiming ownership over the small town and its businesses.

Solas’ expression darkened. “No one that we can see, perhaps.”

Tristan considered Solas’ words for a few moments. Perhaps it was somewhat reckless to walk into a town that they knew so little about, but in the end his hunger and exhaustion seemed to overcome his suspicions. Dorian and Sera were none too quick to agree when he suggested they all ride to the small town in search of an inn to spend the night. No matter who was in charge of the village, they would hardly deny some weary travellers some rest, especially those with coin to spend. Right?

“Who are you, and what business have you?”

The guard standing behind the oak and iron-wrought gate had a gruff voice and an ever gruffer appearance, only partially illuminated by the lamp he held before his face. It was half hidden by his dark hood, but Tristan could still see the unkempt beard and the pock marks on his cheeks. Despite his rough appearance though, his cloak seemed sturdy and well made, and the leather handle of his sword hilt freshly worked. Business was going well in Horville, it seemed.

Tristan pushed his own hood back, and in his best Orlesian, he said, “We’re travellers, looking for shelter from this rain. A warm meal, too, and some drink to wash it down. Are you not going to let us in?”

The man squinted at them. “Don’t get many travellers like yourselves around these parts. Not anymore.”

“It appears you have now.” He let his lips curl in a cold smile, willfully ignoring the man’s hand that was already straying to his sword. His own hand slithered within the folds of his coat, pulling out his coin purse. “We’re not going to be any trouble. I assure you.”

The gold coin that Tristan tossed in his direction flipped in a small arc, catching the light of the lamp before it was snatched in the air by the guard’s practiced hand. The man’s beady black eyes widened when he beheld the coin, then his gaze flicked to each one of them in turn. After a few brief moments of intense scrutiny, he sniffed and jerked his head to the side, signalling for the men behind the gates to let them in.

“Keep an eye on your beast,” he said gruffly as their horses passed him by, shooting a baleful look at the Iron Bull’s horns. Tristan turned to glare at him, but the man only sniffed again and spat on the ground.

“Sour tit,” Sera mumbled under her breath, glaring daggers at the man over her shoulder. “Should have looked at his own ugly mug.”

“Pay him no mind, Bull,” Tristan told the Qunari in a low voice as he led his horse down the narrow cobblestone street. “Most of these people have never seen a Qunari before in their lives.”

“No worries, Boss,” Bull said, his lips widening in his usual, easy smile. “I’ve heard worse while sparring with the boys. These guys have probably seen their share of trouble. Can’t blame them for being cautious.”

Read the rest on AO3!

#dorian pavus #dorian pavus x trevelyan #dorian pavus/trevelyan #pavelyan #dorian pavus x inquisitor #dorian pavus/inquisitor #dorian x tristan trevelyan #tristan trevelyan #sera #iron bull #a world with you #johaerys writes

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aneshkablack · 3 years

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Divination

My second oneshot. I'll hope you like.

First Oneshot: https://isishiwatari.tumblr.com/post/648032827047378944/the-beginning

I published in:

My first Blog: https://isishiwatari.tumblr.com/post/650480081602592768/divination

FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13858840/1/Birds-of-a-feather

And in AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30581456/chapters/75436169

________________________________ Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. are owners of Harry Potter/Wizarding World. Jam City is owner of Hogwarts Mystery. I write this fic only for entertainment and leisure.

Divination

Finally she become an animagus: an eagle like her wish. She had decided don't register in Ministry of Magic after she heard the Talbott's reason. Isolde thought if the situation with R will continue after she'll graduate of Hogwarts; they could have spies like Voldemort in his Terror Era infiltrated there and could discover she can to transform into a bird. She didn't want give them an advantage over her. By other hand, he could use her gift against them… well, if someday need to spy or to take some of them; when she could know where they hidden.

Talking about Talbott, in their classes they had a little interaction between of both with some comments about the subjects, working together occasionally or had short talks of trivial topics. Divination was the class where they have a better interaction then other classes. And where Isolde discovered other facet of him.

Since she asked for him she only knew he was a good student, intelligent, quiet, liked the solicitude, stayed more time out of Ravenclaw's Common Room, and one time she found him in the owlery when she had to send a letter to her mother, feeding the owls. But with Trewlaney, Talbott was sarcastic, was probably he was regretted to take her subject when they studied here. It was funny he lost his calm when the professor said she was disappointed in him, told him he hadn't the Inner Eye. In some times she couldn't help herself but she smiled softly. Isolde understood his feeling. She didn't believe in the Divination, yet and she thought Trewlaney was a fraud.

Today, November 14th, they were studied the tea grounds, again. It was obvious Talbott was already fed up and she didn't feel well because today was the death anniversary of her dad. But didn't let her friends and others students saw her sadness, trying to give the best in every class.

"You can take your time, Isolde. I don't want to waste the time with the tea grounds". In this time, both was worked together. She was drinking her tea.

"Oh, Talbott, but you lecture could be easy. I mean" she lowered her voice. "Do you remember who am I? You can invent some bad in my searching or the Curse Vaults and Trewlaney will be fascinated with your 'prediction'. For example…" she saw her plate, trying to see a figure of something. "I thought it was a dog. You can tell her the Grim is follow me. Someone wants to kill me. You can add details how I would die" she smiled, but closed her eyes, too.

"Let me see" she gave him her plate. "Well, yes, you're right about the dog and… I'm not sure, a needle and an envelope…"

"About the second thing, news from abroad. Probably my mother. She returned to New York for a meeting of all MACUSA's ambassadors, but I guess she'll say the same thing 'Be a good girl and don't do anything that you'll expel of Hogwarts'. I wish, but the school is in danger, yet and I don't want my friends could hurt" she said in a gloomy tone. "I hope it would real she don't send me anything today".

He didn't say anything. It's probably she had a bad relationship with her mother and seemed she really was worried about the boggarts trouble... like she felt guilty for it. But he didn't ask for it because he didn't bother her. Isolde finally sighed and continued her reading.

"The book said it means an imminent danger. It's obvious, the boggarts and the vault. Well, I let you use your imagination and tell to Trewlaney a bizarre history of my future death".

"Fine, but I don't want to be who predicted your death and every person of Hogwarts could remember me for it or they'll say I killed you indirectly". It's probably he didn't say the best comment, but for any reason he was tried to animate her. Isolde saw him, with her eyebrow raised.

"I thought you don't care what the people says about you."

"It's true but it won't seem well in my curriculum when I want to get a job". He tried mocking. And it could've work, because Isolde was smiled.

"Are you afraid to be my 'messenger of destruction'?" She teased him. Talbott chuckled softly. Since she discovered the meaning of his name, she sometimes took the liberty making comments about it… in special in this class. Talbott didn't stop her, because she was the only who could handle his weird sense of humor. He observed her a few of seconds before to response this:

"Beware, Hiwatari. You shouldn't have so much confidence with people. Or someone could give you a love potion and have a tragic love story". He teased her, too. Talbott had been reading some British legends. One of them was 'The Tragic Romance of Tristan and Isolde'.

"Touché, Winger. I knew you like to read books…"

"Like many Ravenclaws and it's probably you are in that group, too".

"Yes, but I didn't knew you read this legend. My dad read me once this story, but they were in love before they drunk the potion. But finally both die unhappy and far each to other. My dad told me about the love potions, and even the Princess Isolde drunk it with the King Mark, she never fell in love with him and prevented me I never should use it to force someone to love me, because I could have a worst pain that them plus the person I would bewitch they could hate me for all my life". She shook her head. "Sorry. I'm afraid to bother you while I was yapping like a puppy".

"You talk so much, it's true. But I'm getting used to it. You do this class less boring when we work together".

"I'm not sure if I take that as a compliment or an insult".

"You should live with the doubt, Isolde".

"Hey!"

"Well, you'll die soon for a bad brewing love potion, after you received a package from your mother who stays in The United States, but really is of one of your enemies". He said, ignored her and wrote in his scroll.

"Did you see you can make a fake prediction?" she giggled.

"I never had told you I couldn't. Only I don't want to waste my time in this. But finally I did". He told her. "And you needed to get a conversation, even if it was a random topic". She was surprised. "I don't ask you, because it's probably you don't want to talk about the real reason with me".

'You aren't Rowan and I don't want bother you with my thoughts and feelings, even I feel comfortable with you. But we're in class and I don't want all to know how I'm'. She though, while smiled him.

Isolde thought was better to avoid tell him. After all, she wasn´t sure they're friends, even Talbott trusted her he was an animagus and the story about his family. He could called her 'a friend' in that time, but their relation it was more like classmates get along between them. More from him than hers.

"Well, it's a miracle you and me take a long talk". She teased him, again.

"You said it. Probably don't success again…" he gave his plate. "Now, it's your turn to use your creativity for your 'prediction', Isolde".

"Okay, do you want a tragedy in specific?"

"I said you could use your creativity". The girl tried to see any form in his plate.

"Well… I see an eagle…"

"Don't…"

"I know. Don't say anything of your gift. I try to invent some of it. A travel, maybe?" She saw the next form. "I think it's a hand" she read in her book. "It said 'a friend could have a trouble and need your help soon'. Has Penny brew a new potion?"

"No, even I know."

"It's better than my tea grounds. 'You'll have to help a friend in a terrible disgrace, you need to travel, where you could have an accident".

"If you say her it would be mortal, she'll like it".

"Okay". She wrote in her parchment. "Did you fly in a broom once time?"

"Well, I prefer to fly by myself, but better you put I used one. It could be more credible than I tried to do by myself".

When she finished it, Trewlaney went to their table. She took the Talbott's scroll, reading a loud in all classmates, crying and overreacting about the "Isolde's tragic destiny". The girl wasn't surprised, rolling her eyes. The Professor always used to her saying Hiwatari will die soon since they had their first class.

"Oh Mr. Winger, finally you're connect with the Inner Eye". Isolde controlled herself to laugh in front Trewlaney, but tried to be serious. "What did you write, Miss Hiwatari?" she asked her while she token her scroll. "Oh Mr. Winger, you'll have a terrible destiny, too. I've never had a two students in the same table could have a worst future in the only session".

"Didn't you have before? It's a surprise!" Talbott said ironically. The bell rang and the class had finished. When they were in the hall, Isolde started to laugh aloud and couldn't stop herself.

"Should I worry for you?" he said, raised his eyebrow.

"You shouldn't. I'm sorry but really can't stop me to laugh more time".

"You have a weird humor, Isolde. I mean, you laughed for your death predictions".

"It's like the pot calling the kettle black, Talbott. You have a same sense of humor like me. Do you remember once time you say Trewlaney you'll die by a pirate? And I don't worry about your prediction. Don't be offended, but you're the worst in the Divination class."

"Hey! Are you the pot or the kettle in this time, Hiwatari?" he raised his eyebrow. She only laughed again.

"I think I'm the pot, Winger. Like Liz, I have a seer in my family, but sadly I can't make any prediction. And I don't believe in this after all, but I tried to give an opportunity taking Trelawney's class. It didn't work. Probably I will leave the subject if I fail in my Divination OWL. By the way, can I ask you why did you take this class?"

"No, you can't".

"Ah…" she was a little disappointed, but she didn't say nothing. He saw her.

"Don't be offended, Isolde but we don't know each other well enough to we could talk about our private lives. It's very personal". He explained her, but seemed he messed it up more for her facial expression in this moment. "What did I say to hurt her? I only told her the truth." He thought.

"I understand". She smiled while at him while closing her eyes. She didn't wanted he noticed she was a little hurt. Talbott was confused with her change of humor, but there was something he didn't like in her grin. "By the way, I thank you. You tried to cheer me up today, or I hope that was your intention". She said, without looking at him when she opened her eyes.

"Yes, it was on purpose. I repeat you, I don't ask what happened with you before our classes. Not only in Divination, but you looked less like you today, even you tried to show all your friends everything was fine. I think only me and Khanna noticed it". She saw him face to face, without being able to hide her surprise. "I don't know if is because we share the same gift, but I don't dislike you".

"…" she didn't response, yet.

It was true Rowan knew what happened with her, because Isolde told her about her family when they were in first year. This day Rowan had been more close to her than usually do. But they separated the last hour because she took Arithmancy; and Isolde, Divination. Talbott, by other hand, how could he see her sadness? It was probably she trusted him more than she thought to let her guard down when they were together.

"Isolde!" Rowan interrupted them. She didn't waste time and reunited with them. "Are you fine?" she saw Isolde first, but Rowan noticed Talbott was here, too. "Hello, Winger".

"Khanna". He replied her. They walked to Great Hall.

"Don't worry Rowan. I'm fine. Talbott and I were talking about how horrible was the divination class, today. I feel better thanks to him".

"What was happened?"

"The usual, Trelawney said we will die soon, for our tea grounds and our 'predictions' when working together". Talbott responded.

"I'm so glad to take Arithmancy. I don't want every session someone told me I will die". She stopped, to see the boy. "We?"

"I mean, both of us received bad fatal predictions, but Isolde and I were guilty to invent them, after all". Talbott said. "I'm regretting to take this subject. It's boring to read every class the tea grounds and I don't interest in palmistry neither the crystal ball reading".

"Why do you leave it?" Rowan ask him.

"Well, I'll leave of Divination in June. I don't want to give up before the scholar year ends".

"I'll miss you, then". Isolde spoken. Rowan saw her, raised her eyebrow but she didn't said anything. "I mean, I like to share time with you in Divination, even we're the worst Trelawney's students".

The boy was surprised for those words, but didn't response to her. Talbott saw her a little before he stopped himself. Finally they'd arrived The Great Hall.

"Talbott, could you join us to dinner, please?" Isolde asked him.

"I'm sorry. Don't mean you bother me but I prefer to eat alone than in the Great Hall. I'll take something and I'll return to Ravenclaw's tower".

"Oh… I understand. Well, I'll see you later, I guess… And, thank you again. You made feel better today". She smiled.

The two girls entered to Great Hall, sitting down near to the Teacher's table. Isolde put in her plate some beef and mashed potatoes. When she put the gravy on her meal, Rowan spoken:

"Winger and you get along, eh Isolde? It's very strange Winger talk with someone isn't Penny… even she told me is difficult to make he say anything".

"I think he talked with me because I seemed sad in our class. It's probably I couldn't hidden more time and he saw it. It was a nice thing he did. Even he didn't ask me the reason I felt bad". She started to eat.

"I don't think so…" Rowan ate her meal and drunk her pumpkin juice. "Did you tell him anything?"

"No. Even I feel comfortable with him, I can't trust him like you, yet. And I know the My Dad's Dead Anniversary isn't a secret, but I don't want the people see me with shame… or someone use to bully me. And I don't want bother him with my problems eve he told me few weeks ago, we were friends… but I'm afraid we aren't close one each other".

"Do you want he would be your friend?" Rowan asked, curious. The blue-haired girl was in silence a few of minutes before responded her:

"Yes, I wish he would be my friend. But I don't want to force him if he refuses my friendship. But I think it's easier to break the curse of the boggarts and the vault than he permit someone be close with him". She continued to eat. Rowan only raised her eyebrow.

"Why do you want befriend with him, Isolde?"

"Because I want to be myself with him like I'm with you, Rowan. It's a weird reason, isn't?"

"No. You and I are friends for this reason. We can be weirdos together". She chuckled.

They finished to eat and returned to the Ravenclaw's Tower. Rowan thought about Isolde's wish. She had heard about Talbott and she was a witness he preferred the solicitude before had friends. Even with Penny, who was the only friend he had, he didn't stayed with her. But with Isolde, she felt something different. Talbott was likely in a tug-of-war with Isolde: He debated whether to accept Isolde's friendship or not. Probably he had a reason, however Rowan could bet he was afraid someone could break his barriers. Like Isolde every time she met a new person.

Phoenix's nest

I wrote the second oneshot. In this time, after Isolde transformed into an animagus, in divination class. I know in the game we take divination until sixth year, but I was based more to HP canon. And I have the headcanon Rowan token Arithmancy. Talking about her, she observed how the relationship between Isolde and Talbott born and how grow in the next years. She knew there are only a friendship. By the way, thank you @whatwouldvalerydo for the favorite in FF.net.

#Talbott Winger #hogwarts mystery talbott #talbott x jacob's sibling #hphm talbott #talbott x mc #Talbott x Isolde #Isolde Hiwatari #HPHM #HPHM mc #rowan khanna #Hphm Rowan

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adanceineorzea · 3 years

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Tagged: Getting To Know You OOC

NAME: Anglicised version of Guinevere. If you're an 80's kid you had at least 10 of us in every class.

NICKNAME: My main blog @wolftabard is the name I use in most online spaces but I generally abbreviate it to Wolf. I think that's the closest I have to an online nickname these days.

FACECLAIM: Do you mean my face? If you mean for my characters / muses then I don't really do faceclaims.

PRONOUNS: She/her or They/them are both fine! <3

HEIGHT: 5′10"

BIRTHDAY: I'm a January Aquarius

AESTHETIC: Flannel shirts, overalls, baggy shorts, tshirts I got from work, polo shirts, work boots. I want a tattoo very badly and I've been debating re-piercing and working on upping the gauge in my ears? HOT MESS FARM BUTCH, basically.

LAST SONG YOU LISTENED TO: Ocean by Devon Baldwin

FAVORITE MUSE(S) YOU’VE WRITTEN: In FFXIV it's a tie between Cera and Lir. I've done a bunch of writing for both of them but I haven't posted much for Cera. I need to edit her stuff and clean it up, but why do that when I could just RP more, ugh.

–Getting to know the account

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO TAKE ON THIS MUSE:

Cerathil: Cera started out as a Night Elf in WoW, and I was still really pumped for her when I hopped over to FFXIV. I struggled mightily with adjusting her character for the game partially because I didn't know much about the FFXIV lore, but mostly because in WoW she had a lot of very WoW specific problems (demon hunter wife, anti-magic nelf stigma, fel addiction fears) so I ended up developing Lir and coming back to her later. She's almost a completely different person from WoW Cera, but this is mainly due to timeline differences. FFXIV Cera got out of the military and embraced her true passions while WoW Cera was stuck in a job she hated fighting a war she never wanted to be part of. Consequently FFXIV Cera is a lot happier, more fulfilled person. This makes her solidly outside of the type of character I usually play so I'm struggling a little with staying connected to her current story.

Dove: I really wanted to play a monk. I mained monk in WoW for years and Dove is partially inspired by an old Tauren monk of mine, although she's much more scholarly than Maha was. I haven't gotten hugely into her yet as I'm still developing her but I'm very excited to have a big buff bruiser lady again! Also I adore Roe ladies so it was high time I settled on one for myself.

Lirene: I wanted to make a criminal character to play with some friends that do crime shenanigans (/wave) but I also wanted someone that didn't have crime as her ultimate goal. Enter Lir. Who is inspired by any character with noble ideals and practical executions. She ended up being waaaaaaaay softer than I expected but that could be because her main plot line so far has revolved around meeting her wife, albeit through the manipulations of the cartel they're both involuntarily working for. I don't think she's worked out terribly well for crime shenanigans at least in part because she's so terribly protective and ended up liking playing by the rules too much. Oh well. I still love her tho!

Tristan: Machinist is fun, pewpew. I need to work on developing her more.

Hfyrn: I honestly just wanted a botanist before I realized I'd also have to level her adventuring class, but I love her aesthetic so she's staying even if I don't play her much. Enjoy the flowers and fluffy soft posts she brings this blog.

WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE ASPECTS OF YOUR CURRENT MUSE:

Just gonna answer this for Cera and Lir since they're my main gals at the moment!

Cera: I really like how versatile Cera is in roleplay situations. Because of her job as an entertainer and something of a spy she's always looking to either blend in and observe, or else command and direct attention to where it best serves her needs. She can be manipulative and deceptive, but she's almost never intentionally cruel about it.

I also adore the delightful relationship between her and her wife, Mhaelou Dhemoenwyn, because theyre' such glaring opposites. Lou is a huge, raucous, beast of a pirate woman that loves fighting, chaos and mayhem, but is generally against outright killing people. Cera is refined, elegant, thoughtful, and while she's a day-to-day pacifist she's also perfectly willing to kill if doing so will keep her family safe. Neither of them want to change anything about the other, and they adore one another in a way that's stupidly cute and soft.

Lir: Oh, Lir. I love Lir because she is good hearted, and strong, and capable in interesting ways that she doesn't fully realize. She thinks of herself as a lost cause. Someone that's not really worthy of the things she's gotten in life so far. She thinks she's defined by her failures and all the ways she's sacrificed her ideals on the alter of survival and practicality. She's just so fucking stupid about herself and can't see what makes others love her.

Lir is also a character that wants things and is afraid to reach for them, but has recently been given a big helping of motivation in the form of her amazing wife. (There is a trend here.) Shay doesn't seem to have any problem with reaching for the stars and Lir is gonna be damned if she's gonna let her wife down.

WHAT’S YOUR BIGGEST INSPIRATION WHEN IT COMES TO WRITING:

Talking with my wife and friends about roleplay stuff! I'm certainly inspired by other things, movies, games, mythology, art, etc. But talking through potential plot ideas or bouncing things around with my friends is just... *chef kiss* The. Best.

Some of my favorite plot things we've done have evolved out of "OMG wouldn't it be funny if" conversations with my wife in particular. Then we have our characters end up in hilarious/ridiculous situations and they make us cry because they're so sweet and stupid and lovable.

FAVORITE TYPES OF THREADS:

I like juicy character development stuff. Just yeet my characters into a situation where they have to poke outside their comfort zone, or else confront head-on something they've been struggling with. Doesn't matter what the setting is. It could be an action packed situation where they have to confront their unsustainable relationship with violence, or it could be a quiet moment of introspection that leads them to a big revelation later on. I want my characters to be like plants - they always need to be growing!

Tagged by: @luck-and-larceny Thank you again, this was another great ind interesting ask!

Tagging: My wife who needs to check her tumblr.

#cera asks #lir asks #fern asks #tris asks #cera posts #lir posts #author asks

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teamxdark · 4 years

Text

Office AU: Party Round

Arthur: It’s here! We’re allowed one party per year, funded by corporate, and all others are at our own expense and not to be done during the workday.

Arthur: So I save up what I can, in between all the shared payments between Lance, Guin and I for our house, car, and all that. Lance wants to foot all of Galahad’s expenses on his own but I’ve got my own Galahad Emergency Fund. A GEF. Guin and I pronounce it like ‘Jeff’ so whenever we talk about it, Lance thinks we’re talking about some mutual friend. But I digress.

Arthur: I like throwing as many parties as I can because I really like my coworkers. A lot of us started at Avalon Industries back when it was a startup, or we got referred through each other. It’s nice, because there’s this good balance between being professional and not giving a shit. We know when we need to buckle up and get stuff done, and we know that we don’t have to dance around issues with needless procedures.

Arthur: ...Also, it’s really funny to watch everyone get wasted. Sometimes I give Smithy a camera, just in case.

............

Guin: What do I like about the parties here? Well... Merlina finally lets loose and has fun, which is great, because the girl needs it like a fish needs water. If I gave her a stress ball I think she’d find a way to tear it apart.

Guin: Gareth and Bors are fun at parties, too. So is Arthur, but once Lancelot gets a few in him, he’s clingy as fuck and he forgets anyone else except Arthur, or me if he can’t find Arthur. And he’s a lightweight, so it doesn’t take long.

Guin: Once he found me first at a party and hugged me for half an hour telling me that he loved me. This was back before Gawain knew the score about us all so that was an interesting time. At least it let me know that I wasn’t barking up the wrong tree when it came to him.

Guin: Oh! Speaking of! Another fun thing about these parties is that Gawain always challenges me to a drinking game. Not to brag, but I’m sure I have the highest tolerance of anyone here. I think it might be a weird way of flirting with me, and the thing is... it kind of works?

Guin: Unfortunately for the both of us, he’s usually too passed out to find that out.

.............

Smithy: I don’t drink. It’s never been my thing. Tastes terrible and I don’t want to find out what I’m like when I lose my inhibitions like everyone else.

Smithy: That being said, I do like watching everyone else get hammered. It makes for some quality entertainment that I can’t get on TV. Not to mention, some of the things I witness could be excellent blackmail material, if I were a crueler being.

Smithy: Instead I run some kind of information black market. People will pay me to tell them what they got up to, and I tell them. Sometimes I embellish things, or if they didn’t do much, sometimes I lie.

Smithy: ...What? I never said I was a saint, either.

Smithy: *sips some juice*

...............

Lamorak: Look, Kay and Dindrane? Great people. Can’t live without them.

Lamorak: But I hate them at parties.

Lamorak: Dindrane starts panicking when she gets drunk. Starts checking up on everyone and then checks on them again just in case they disappeared. Kay already gets angry easily, but when he’s had a few, he gets angry at everything. He gets angry that there’s nothing to get angry about.

Lamorak: Really cramps my style, so I do the only thing I can. Get even drunker so I stop caring.

Lamorak: *takes a drink*

Lamorak: Pregaming. My greatest ally.

.................

Tristan: I’ve been told that drunk me has some great dance moves.

Tristan: I’ve also been told that drunk me crashes into desks.

Tristan: *takes a drink*

Tristan: It’s a party. Go big or go home.

.................

Arthur: As soon as any party starts, I have to make my rounds quickly, because once Lance gets buzzed, I’ll be occupied for the rest of the night.

Arthur: Not that I’m complaining.

...............

Geraint: *glares at Lancelot clinging to Arthur’s arm, kissing him and laughing*

Geraint: *marches over to Enid and kisses him furiously*

Geraint: That’s how it’s done!

Geraint: *flips everyone off*

..............

Enid: *grins at the camera and winks*

............

Gaheris: Am I... Am I supposed to be alive?

Gaheris: Like... who chooses who gets to be alive?

Gaheris: And what if they change their mind?

Gareth: Bro. Chill.

Gaheris: But--

Gareth: Take. A chill. Pill.

Gaheris: ...

Gareth: ...

Gareth: *takes a drink and pokes Gaheris’ nose* Boooooop!

.............

Bedivere: Someone’s going to die.

Bors: Of fun!

Bedivere: No! Of death!

Bors: *laughs*

Bedivere: *grabs Bors by the shoulders and screams* Stop laughing at death!

Bors: *laughs harder*

............

Gawain: *is passed out with his head on Guin’s lap*

Guin: *patting his head, winks at the camera*

Lamorak: *barges in* Hey Guin, wanna raise some hell?

Guin: Fuck yeah I do! *moves Gawain away* What are we doing?

Geraint: *shows up behind Lamorak* We’re going to adjust every clock in this office so it says that it’s 30 minutes earlier than it really is.

Lamorak: That way we mess with people by making them think that they got here early or that they still have more time in the workday.

Guin: Subtle. Lies to us in a way that doesn’t affect our workday so we don’t need to explain anything to corporate. Perfect.

Lamorak: Dibs on the computers!

Guin: Geraint, you have the passcodes ready?

Geraint: *angrily throws a bunch of papers at Lamorak*

Lamorak: Rrrrrrrraise some hell!

.............

Smithy: So in between Merlina and Gareth’s air-guitaring competition, Tristan breakdancing for Arthur since he couldn’t, Dindrane, Gaheris and Bedivere hiding from the realities of existence in a blanket fort, Kay and Bors’ cake-eating-contest-turned-wrestling match, and Geraint just existing, it’s hard to say what was the most interesting thing to catch on camera.

Smithy: Kind of wish I had a bunch more.

Smithy: ...

Smithy: *to the cameraman* Hey, how much for a copy of what you got?

............

Percival: Oh, us? Galahad and I played a few rounds of our favourite card game, then we tried playing a game but with the intent to fail all quick-time events and choose the worst dialogue options.

Galahad: Then around midnight I asked Percival what the moon would look like if it were on fire.

Percival: Given the different atmosphere and oxygen composition of the moon’s crust, it’s hard to say.

Galahad: I think it’d look pretty.

Percival: I think I know what kind of drunk you would be.

#Smash speaks.#Office AU.#Couldn't concentrate on DB so here's this.

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chicagocityfclanspromoblog · 4 years

Photo

Lawrence Cocci → Milo Ventimiglia → Warlock

→ Basic Information

Age: 571

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Asexual

Powers: Pyrokinesis

Birthday: June 8th

Zodiac Sign: Gemini

Religion: Agnostic

Mark: Weyden

Generation: 2nd

→ His Personality

Lawrence is loyal, determined, and unerringly sarcastic. A wild card in every sense of the word, he is known to take very little seriously. He likes to live life untethered and with as many experiences as possible. Many of his colleagues sees him as irreverent with an anti-authoritarian streak; being uncontrollable and unbearable by those who haven’t earned his respect. However, in social settings he can fit in anywhere, and has found friends across the globe. Thanks to his father, Lawrence has an annoyingly curious nature and a desire to know how things work. He’s not a book learner, but excels in practical magic and applications. Lawrence has a tendency to be lazy, as he seeks to appease his inner happiness. He can spend a whole day lying around if he thinks that’s what it’ll take to be fulfilled.

Lawrence Cocci, born Lorenzo Cocci, had always been taught that magic was a responsibility by his mother. It was something that needed to be mastered and always controlled, especially with a power as destructive as his. Gloria Cocci had big expectations for her children, and refused to allow her son to ruin it for her. She had him trained ferociously, hiring all the best elementals to attempt to get through to her son. However, Lawrence was incredibly average with his powers, learning each within the designated age range, but never pushing harder to master any specific part of his training. Lawrence Cocci, had also always been taught by his father that magic was fun. It was experimental and should be an extension of a witch or warlock. This started back in the vineyards of Italy where Lawrence grew up.

→ His Personal Facts

Occupation: Plastic Surgeon

Scars: None

Tattoos: Massive Phoenix on Back

Two Likes: Spicy Foods and 101 Dalmatians Movie

Two Dislikes: The Man and Working

Two Fears: Cages and Spontaneous Combustion

Two Hobbies: Going Out and Flying as a Phoenix

Three Positive Traits: Unwavering, Funny, Spontaneous

Three Negative Traits: Irreverent, Lazy, Wild

→ His Connections

Parent Names:

Gloria Weyden (Mother): His mother is very much a Weyden and takes her magic very seriously. She was one of the first to introduce the ideas of policing magic with councils, and acted as a diplomat to many major families when introducing the idea around the globe. She always said he had so much potential, but he wasted it with his lack of sincerity.

Giovanni Cocci (Father): Giovanni was a reprieve from Gloria in many ways. He was relaxed, and happy and treated magic as if it was something to be lawless. Nearly all of Lawrence’s happy memories from childhood revolve around him and his father experimenting and being free.

Sibling Names:

Gabriele Cocci (Big Brother): Gabriele is a Weyden wanna-be. He doesn’t have the name, but he has the mark, and well as the massive amount of self-importance. He is following in their mother’s footsteps and is trying to score a council seat. They don’t really get along.

Martina ‘Mattie’ Cocci (Little Sister): Martina moved from Florence to study potions with Judson Cleirigh. She just started living with Lawrence again after nearly a century and it’s taking some time to readjust. She is cramping his style but Lawrence is watching over her and coaching her in his own way.

Children Names:

None.

Romantic Connections:

None.

Platonic Connections:

Emmett Wilhelm (Good Friend): Emmett generally has to answer for most of the nonsense that Lawrence pulls, since he is the most well known older fire starter in Chicago. Luckily he has a good sense of humor about it, and they have a lot in common including their love for flying and spicy food.

Patch Cipriano (Friend): Patch is very entertaining and fun to be around. Lawrence is fascinated by Patch openness about being a human shifter.

Gretchen Sims (Party Friend): Gretchen seems to know everything going on around town, including where to score. She introduced him to Bath Salts and still manages to find some when he needs it.

Luke Bowick (Party Friend): Luke is great.

Ken McStevens (Friend): Nearly every magic user avoids Ken, due to the lasting stereotype of Benevorous users, but Lawrence thinks he’s fun.

Jia Cleirigh (Friendly Acquaintance): Jia throws the best parties in Chicago, and Lawrence has tried to stay on his good side to get an invite.

Tristan Lawton (Work Friend): He’s a good kid, but pretty terrible at his job. Lawrence likes him though, and is happy they’ve been permanently paired together.

Rhiannon Draga (Former Mentor): He wasn’t with Rhiannon long, but she did help him master his Phoenix form. They still keep in touch despite his short term menteeship.

Lyra Carmichael (Friend): He sees Lyra at the bar sometimes. They’d probably never hangout sober, but she’s interesting conversation over a glass of whiskey.

Hostile Connections:

Russel Jordan (Firefighter): Lawrence doesn’t particularly get along with any hyenas, but especially none of the firefighters. Jordan thinks Lawrence is responsible for a series of arsons, but for once Lawrence is actually not at fault. Not that Jordan would believe him.

Isla Johns (Target): Lawrence thought it would be funny to pick up a nimble, in phoenix form, and drop it in the middle of Hyde Park. He didn’t know it was the 2nd of the Nimbles, but he doesn’t really care. Emmett had the whole clan after him for the whole next month.

Pets:

Mouse (Dalmatian): Mouse is Lawrence familiar. He was a present to himself after finishing his Master level training.

→ History (paragraph(s) on background) → The Present (paragraph(s) on how the character connects to the plot)

→ Available Gif Hunts (we do not own these)

Milo Ventimiglia [1][2][3]

#Milo Ventimiglia #warlock rp #magic rpg #supernatural rpg #fantasy rpg

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