#also changed my sona’s colors back to before since I missed it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mx-mind · 2 years

Note

hey sky!! for the OC ask meme you recently rb'd on your other blog, could I ask: 1, 4, 11, 19, 23, 32 (feel free to swap horror out with the like.. yume nikki-esque type of game! i'm curious to know! :D) 40, 44, and 50? :]

it's a lot to ask, so feel free to skip over any if you'd like! and sorry for asking so many! your ocs are very cool and i like learning more about them ^-^/

HI SARAH thank you for all the questions I love OC questions :3 Sorry for taking so long to answer these ^^;

1. Your first OC ever?

Twas a My Little Pony OC named Western Cat (name received from a generator). This was also generated, but she was "a unicorn with flame colored hair, a golden coat, and purple eyes". I interpreted flame colored as red and yellow hair, golden coat as golden yellow, and purple eyes as. Well, purple eyes. I then turned her into a Sonic OC, and years later made a human design based on the Sonic OC and changed their gender to match mine and wait a minute... That's Sky! My OC who acts as a fictional in-story representation of myself! So yeah, my sona is actually my first OC (after dozens of revisions over about 8 years of existing)

4. A character you rarely talk about?

Hasedonia! Mostly because I don't have too much for her and her story yet, but I also tend to talk about H&R! less than R&RWG. She's another person who's been isekaid to Phitania and appears to be half dragon

11. Is there any OC of yours you could describe as a “sunshine”?

Bailey is probably the closest to sunshine? I originally thought "just as a kid though", but she's still optimistic as a teen.

19. Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why)

I don't really talk about these characters too much since I don't really talk about my regular novel stuff, but one of the main characters is a Jewish girl named Talia. She works in a bookstore and the story opens with her... not exactly in the best place. She's been fired from many places, she's a huge people pleaser and ended up getting dumped for that, she's still not over her ex, and she feels like she disappoints everyone she meets. Her arc has her moving on from her ex as she and her old friend Cassie reconnect. Instead of it ending with her and Cassie dating as would be typical of a YA story though, she just stays single. I don't think the story is really YA anymore since she and everyone else have aged up as I've gotten older, but I created her back when I kept missing an old ex-BFF. I also just like that she doesn't end up in a relationship at the end because YA stories I read at the time ALL had romance in them. Before I really started to realize I was arospec I felt like teens should have the opportunity to see characters that stay single and are okay with it in order to send the message that you don't have to date. I don't even know if Talia is arospec or not yet but either way it's important that she has the option to not date and still learn to be happy without one

23. Introduce OC that has changed from your first idea concerning what the character would be like?

The Sun King is a benevolent ruler who acts as Shiko's guide and confidante in his journey through Phitania, a magical world where Shiko becomes the hero. Hey, I think I should add more to this guy. *Turns around and now he's the main villain and his character and actions are now similar to the likes of King Bradley from FMAB, Kyubey from Madoka Magica, and Belos from Owl House* Oops...

So basically yeah he was supposed to just be a stock king character until I wanted to develop him more. He's still the ruler of Phitania and initially appears to be an ally, like he acts like the perfect dad towards everyone and the country is at peace, and then after Shiko dies he reincarnates him back on Earth and tells him he needs to send people to Phitania and then he can be brought back. Originally there was no real reason except hey we need isekai protags, but uhhh you know how I mentioned Kyubey as being inspiration? Yeah... Turns out everyone in Phitania is someone who had a miserable life who got "sent" there and he gave them happiness but has secretly been draining them of their hope and determination in order to become all powerful! And he was just supposed to be some guy...

32. Which one of your OCs would be the most suitable horror game protagonist and why?

Neil! This can work as both a human and a truck. He has a lot of trauma, and his life is basically a horror game. Even though he can drive himself around as a truck, Shiko can still take control of him at any time and that tends to happen when they have a target they need to run over. Like imagine at any moment your freedom can be taken away and you're forced to run through someone at top speeds in order to kill them. That's so fucked up

For Yume Nikki protag, I'd say Evanthe. Its whole story is it running through various scenarios to decide what to do with its newfound sentience, so the open-ended nature of a YNFG combined with a vague ending would work well with this. God now I wanna make one...

40. Any fond memories linked to your characters? Feel free to share!

Jaxon is the first OC I got fanart of from my friends! This is the first attack I got of xim on Artfight, and then here's another drawn by my excellent and talented friend @lab-labrava

44. Something you like about your OCs in general

They all try to fight against their fate and have fun colored hair :3

50. Give me the good ol’ OC talk here. Talk about anything you want

Nova Armstrong! Ze's a Batman Rogue OC I recently came up with based on the Rookie from Lego DC Super Villains and the first Planet Master (old Silver Age villain who only appeared once; ze's actually related to him but I dunno how yet). Nova is a henchman for hire and can temporarily steal people's powers and strengths. Ze will also copy other people's personalities, though this is due to an effort to fit and unrelated to hir powers. Ze does this to fit in with any rogue ze wants to get hired to

Hir reasoning for working in the rogue industry is ze's trying to find hir brother, but after ze does find him, ze ends up becoming a solo villain called "The Black Hole". Now ze goes really overboard with the "steal people's powers and strength" shtick and keeps trying to find ways to make it permanent. I haven't designed it yet beyond "this needs a long flowing cloak with a hood" and "stars" but hir whole costume is based on space

#asks for sky #poptartmochi #skyllion ocs #AUGH I FORGOT TO ANSWER THIS AND I SAW IT IN MY DRAFTS AND FINALLY FINISHED IT UP #thank you for the ask!!

3 notes · View notes

skelemira · 3 years

Note

Ooooh whats Rowan's lore? *grabs popcorn*

ALRIGHT BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUPS

Gonna leave it after the cut (if I remember how to do the cut right on mobile lol) so I don't clog up feeds

So Rowan started out as a human. Her family was okay financially, probably lower middle class. Not rich enough to be truly comfortable, but not in a whole lot of danger debt-wise. She had a mother, a father, an older sister named Magnolia (Nolia for short) and a little brother named Cedar (lol do you see a naming pattern here I'm so creative). Her parents were... Okay. They weren't abusive or anything, but they weren't exactly doting. They didn't really have the time to be doting, since they both worked all the time. The siblings all got along really well, though, the type of siblings that stuck together initially because they lacked that true family relationship but slowly morphed into ride or die siblings.

So one day, little 14-year-old Rowan (Nolia was 16, soon to be 17, and Cedar was 10) gets home from school, pretty average, normal day.

She's sitting at the table doing her hw when someone knocks at the door and her parents (it was kind of weird, they were never home at this hour) rush to open it. There stands a man in a lab coat, holding an envelope. Rowan hated him instantly. Something about him seemed wrong.

He talked to her parents for a bit, and her parents asked her to go get Nolia and Cedar with some urgency in their voices. And.... If she was right in placing that tone.... Guilty excitement...?

She got her siblings and they came downstairs.

Turns out her parents had been closer to debt than she realized. So to get some more money and.... Relieve some financial burdens, they sold their kids to a group of scientists needing victi----research participants.

Of course there was a struggle, Nolia stepping up to try and defend her siblings, screaming at her parents, Rowan holding Cedar close while silent tears poured down both their faces.

But the scientist was prepared, and before anyone could react, three men appeared with rags, holding them over the kids' mouths.

She woke up in an empty white room.

Well... If you could call it white. It was more of a dinghy, hardly cleaned beige. These men were not with the government, she could immediately tell that.

Gonna sum up this part bc it involves torture but basically the scientists were experimenting to see if they could turn a human into a monster. They found only Rowan's soul was compatible. They used her siblings to keep her under control..... Only they had dumped Nolia and Cedar on the streets weeks ago. They simply reused footage to "prove" to Rowan they were still there.

They almost succeeded in their experiment. They forced so much magic into her soul that it started to flip.... But it was too much and Rowan flatlined. They dumped her body in the woods, only disappointed that they came so close.

A couple months passed. Her body decayed until only her skeleton remained. The decaying process was helped along by all the magic, which seemed to have concentrated in her bones, morphing them slowly until they were all connected.

She woke up.

She spent several years on the streets. She begged, she stole, and... She drank. Or at least she tried to. (She was allowed into bars because people thought she was a monster, and she wasn't wearing stripes, so that must mean she was an adult.) She quickly discovered that her alcohol tolerance was *legendary*. She drank bars dry having drinking contests with people (that's how she paid for all her drinks) but felt no different than before. Eventually someone dared her to try Everclear, and though she grimaced at the taste, she drank the entire bottle.

The bar was silent.

The taste eventually grew on her, a kind of self-inflicted punishment that soon became a routine, almost a comfort.

Now a good chunk of the next part has to do with my friend's sonas which I'm not going to talk about because they're not my characters, but suffice it to say they were amazing friends to her and helped her recover and get on her feet.

One such friend discovered her sleeping by Grillby's dumpster, and Grillby let her stay the night on his couch, setting up a job at Muffet's for her the next day. She and Muffet became really close friends and finally she started to have a more stable life. (She finds and dates Underlust Sans but that's another story lol which I would be happy to share in another ask~ but y'all these two are so cute plz)

So someone suggests she go see a therapist. Goodness knows she's got some trauma. So she agrees. The name of her therapist seems..... Eerily familiar but she decides to ignore her gut and go anyway. She walks into the therapist's office and---

And sees her mother sitting there, looking professional and well-rested and happy.

She runs.

Yeah so suffice it to say she isn't gonna trust therapy again for a bit lol, and it takes her even LONGER (and some good therapy sessions) to accept the fact that her mother was clearly better off without her and her siblings.

Yeah ya girl has a lot of issues, especially abandonment <3 she is very much a people pleaser and WILL put your needs high above her own. Anything to make you want to stay. Anything to make her feel needed or wanted.

So she's hanging out at Grillby's one day (he and his bartender like to try out different mixes on her, try to see if they can get her to make a face at a cocktail) when a huge party comes in. Rowan automatically shrinks a bit from discomfort because of the big crowd, and she continues her game with Grillby and the bartender (the bartender is my friend's sona that's why I'm not naming them lol). Then she hears something that makes her freeze mid-sip.

"Let's hear it for Magnolia!!!! The first of us to get tied down!" Followed by raucous laugh....ter...

She recognizes that laugh.

She flees the bar, with no explanation to anyone. She catches a glimpse of Nolia, with Cedar by her side, and both of their eyes squint slightly in confusion as she passes by them.

She makes it outside, looking around for where to go, unable to think in her panicked confusion when---

"R......Rowan?"

She goes ramrod straight and slowly turns, hands balled into fists to hide the violent shaking. Nolia bursts into tears, Cedar immediately clinging to her stiff form, his shoulders shaking as bad as her hands.

They.... Recognized her. They.........

Were *happy* to see her.

Slowly she hugged them back and they got to catching up. (So yeah if it wasn't clear Nolia was getting married, they both had survived on the streets together until Nolia was old enough to get a job).

Also something I forgot to mention lol is Rowan had found 2 kittens behind Muffet's, an older girl kitten fiercely protecting a little boy kitten. They immediately latched onto her after she made it clear she wasn't a threat, and she decided to name them after her siblings.

Also things worth noting, she smells like apples, she has magical red translucent hair, her soul wavers from more upside down like a monster's to more upright like a human's, she loves to bake, she is like the DEFINITION of cottagecore, she has magical tattoos on her face that change around to look like the Day of the Dead skulls (the colors get brighter or darker with her moods), and she drinks 2 bottle of everclear every time she goes to Grillby's. The paramedics in the area quickly become used to people calling the ambulance when she drinks (seriously look up everclear it's basically pure alcohol). She eventually stops drinking (not that it was *really* harming her since she had that alcohol tolerance and a body made primarily of magic at this point (plus alcohol isn't really gonna hurt her, she doesn't have kidneys lol) but she wanted to stop anyway. She loves to paint and teaches one of her friends to paint, tending to her friend's garden while her friend paints. She also loves to cook and bake, she eventually helps out with baking at Muffet's, though she refuses to bake the spiders into the pastries. Her scones are things of legend, they sell out as soon as she brings the tray out of the kitchen.

Yeah that was a lot lol and there's little things here and there that I missed so feel free to send in questions about her if you want to know anything! Or if you want to know how Rowan and UL Sans got together (spoiler: they eventually get married and it's so cute)

#ask #anon #oc time babyyyy #Rowan #Rowan beloved #also thank you guys so much for asking about her #I adore her so much and don't get the chance often to share her lore

9 notes · View notes

theheartsmistakes · 3 years

Text

Any Other Name

.Chapter 1.

The London Institute hadn’t changed in the five years since Cordelia had last seen it. Its pointed rooftops disappeared into the alloy colored clouds that perpetually covered the sky of London making Cordelia sometimes wonder if underneath the constant precipitation the sky was purple or grey rather than blue. The arched glossy windows reflected the view of the city with the billowing smoke from the factories, the lines from the bridges, and the diamond-like flecks that glittered off of the Thames.

It rivaled the Institute in Tehran in size alone, but otherwise, the cold, steel gray of the stones had nothing on the warmth and light of the sand-colored building that she had been living in for the past five years. Already she missed the way the sun warmed the inside of the building and filled the rooms with its light that sent fractals of color off of the beads that adorned the bright colored drapes in her bedroom. She missed the smells of spices, burning applewood, and whatever flower bloomed wildly in that season as she walked the crowded merchant-lined streets.

She’d only been in London all of ten minutes and already she wanted to climb back through the portal and take her grandmother up on her offer to let her live there with her in her small one-bedroom flat.

“We are a family,” said her father proudly when he informed them at the dinner table only a week before that they (he) were offered the position to be head of the London Institute after the removal of William and Tessa Herondale. “This is a family decision. No one is staying behind. We are moving as a family.”

It didn’t feel like a family decision when he removed her bedroom door after she’d locked herself in for twenty-four hours in protest.

One year, she told herself. One measly little year in the dreary, desolate wasteland that was London, and then she would be eighteen and free to make her own decisions including where she wanted to live.

Her older brother Alastair, the bastard, had turned eighteen only a month ago and had opted to remain in Tehran to help oversee the Institute until the Clave found a family to take over. Cordelia bristled at the idea of someone else living in her room which she’d just managed to decorate according to her taste. What if they turned it into a boring old office or Angel forbid a crafts room.

Never, in her seventeen years, did she hate her parents. Not for any reason for they were quite good parents. They let her go out with her friends any night of the week she wanted, they supported her in whatever protest or interest she happened to be on even if it pertained to mundane issues, and she rather liked spending time with them when she wasn’t training or out in the city with her small, but loyal group of friends.

Her friends.

They’d only said goodbye a few hours ago, but she’d at least hoped for one fire message of encouragement to help her through these trying times.

She’d scold them for it later.

When she’d come to London as a child during her parent's annual Clave meetings, the only enjoyable part of being here visiting with the ever eccentric Lucie Herondale. They’d become fast friends when they first met at ten years old and remained in touch either through fire messages, the occasional visits, or annual Clave meetings. Until about six months, when all correspondence stopped. Cordelia sent her dozens of messages, but none of them were answered. When she attempted to call from a city payphone on the landline she knew Lucie kept, the automated message said the phone number had been disconnected.

Cordelia wondered if it was something that she had done or said that upset Lucie. That was until a week ago when her parents sat down with her and her brother and told them of the Clave’s decision to exile the Herondale’s for their demon blood.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!” Cordelia yelled when her parents informed both her and Alastair. “They’re exiled? What does that even mean?”

“It means they’re no longer considered Shadowhunters,” said Alastair from where he sat across from her at the dining room table. He was rather unperturbed by the situation which didn’t surprise Cordelia in the least. He never liked the Herondale’s; least of all James Herondale, Lucie’s older brother.

“I know what it means, Alastair, I’m being dramatic,” snapped Cordelia. “What did they do to deserve this? Will has always been an esteemed member of the Clave and Tessa as well. They can’t do this to them!”

Elias, Cordelia’s traitorous father looked to her mother Sona for assistance but her mother looked just as angry as Cordelia felt.

“It’s all to do with their blood,” said Elias carefully.

“Their blood?” Cordelia said as if he’d just announced he was infected with some virulent disease.

“Bigotry, darling,” said Sona and glanced at him over the edge of the purple scarf that concealed her hair. “I think the word you are looking for is ‘bigotry’.”

“No,” said Elias. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Why not,” said Sona, flippantly. “It’s not as if the Clave is here to hear you. We’ve always been honest with the children, it won’t do to stop now.”

“Sona, please.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. This was an argument that they have had before and did not side with one another. “We agreed to be a unified front.”

“I agreed to no such thing,” said Sona and turned her gaze to Cordelia. “The Clave upon hearing that Tessa’s father is the greater demon Belial, has decided that despite her angelic heritage, her blood is tainted and we cannot allow tainted blood into the community in fear that her demon-side will eventually take over and she— or her children— will be responsible for something horrendous which is the nature of their kind.”

Cordelia gapped like a landlocked fish. “That’s the most idiotic thing I have ever heard!”

Sona nodded.

“Tessa is one of the kindest, sweetest, most good-natured people that I have ever met!” Her voice inched up an octave that had Alastair grimacing. She didn’t care. This was criminal. This went against everything she’d ever believed. Tessa was someone as close to an aunt as Cordelia would ever have. “Doesn’t the angelic blood dominate the demon side anyway!”

Sona nodded. “The Clave claims they do not have enough evidence of this and therefore cannot risk it.”

“You keep saying the Clave,” said Cordelia vehemently. “Who exactly are you referring to?”

“It’s all of them, darling,” said Elias.

Sona rolled her eyes. “Inquisitor Bridgetstock, the toad, is who I am referring to and the hoard of Clave members that he has fear-mongered into following after him. This is what we deserve for establishing a democracy.”

“You’d prefer totalitarianism?” said Elias.

Sona just shrugged again. “If it meant avoiding this lunacy, then yes, I suppose I do.”

Cordelia felt like screaming to release some of the frustration building in her chest. “What about Will?”

“His mother was a mundane,” said Elias.

“Oh.” Cordelia felt her cheeks fill with heat. “So the Clave has something against Mundanes, as well. So was Sophie Lightwood, are they going to exile her too?”

“The Clave is trying to keep the Shadowhunter bloodline pure,” said Elias, carefully, but there was a note of distaste in the last word. “Sophie ascended so therefore she is for all intents and purposes a Shadowhunter. Also, Will wouldn’t abandon Tessa or his children even if it meant keeping his marks. He was very adamant about that part.”

Cordelia slumped back against her chair and crossed her arms in a way she hadn’t done since she was a child. “So what, we’re just meant to pretend like they never existed? Is that what you’re saying?”

Both of her parents averted their eyes. Sona looked down at her hands resting in her lap and Elias stared at the plate of food he hadn’t touched in front of him. “Yes,” he finally said. “The punishment for fraternizing with ‘the exiled’ or any Downworlder unless it is for official Clave business is deemed punishable.”

Cordelia scoffed, but it was Alastair who asked, “Punishable, how?”

“It depends on the severity,” said Elias and meant to leave it at that.

“Meaning,” inquired Cordelia.

“Meaning,” said Elias in a tone that implied he was finished with this conversation. “They are not our friends, colleagues, or otherwise. They are our enemies and we are to treat them as such. They are working on making this into a new law and if broken, it could mean the stripping of your marks.”

Even Alastair’s eyebrows rose at that. “It seems the Inquisitor is finally getting what he wanted after all, a cease and desist on any camaraderie with Downworlders. He always did see them as a vile group.”

Elias nodded but reached over to put his hand on Cordelia’s arm. “I know Lucie was a dear friend.”

Cordelia’s eyes swam with tears at the mention of Lucie’s name. She couldn’t imagine what Lucie was going through now. Was she afraid, angry, lonely, feeling everything all at once? At least she had her family, but was it enough? Would it be enough for Cordelia?

“I cannot stress how important it is that you obey these laws until we can come up with a way to have them disbanded,” said Elias. “I know your heart, Layla, I see its fire at any signs of adversity and I don’t want to be the one to temper it, but I need you to be careful and believe me when I saw, I will do everything within my capabilities to fix this.” He looked at each person sitting at the table with him. “I may not agree with the Clave’s decision, but for our own protection, we must comply. Do you understand?”

“You want us to be silent,” said Cordelia.

Elias’s hand slipped from his daughter’s arm.

“Sometimes words are not enough,” said Sona on the other end of the table. “Sometimes we can speak louder with our action. We have raised you to be free-thinkers, to defend the innocent, and protect the ones that need protecting. We trust that you will use your best judgement on how to do just that.”

Cordelia uncross her arms and dropped her hands into her lap. She wanted more than anything to go to her room and try to send another fire message to Lucie; to rage about how ridiculous this all was, and let her friend know that she wasn’t alone. That not for one moment would she, Cordelia Carstairs, who once painted herself red and marched through the streets of Tehran as a message to their mundane government that she did not agree with the patriarchal rules placed on women, would go along with these laws.

She thought of the Blackthorn family motto: Lex malla, lex nulla.

A bad law is no law and how she wished she could claim it is her own.

But she couldn’t message Lucie. She didn’t even have a way to reach her and maybe Lucie didn’t want to speak to her anyway if she hadn’t even attempted to contact her in some other way.

“I hate this,” she said quietly.

“I know, Layla,” said her mother. “I know.”

“What of the Fairchilds?” asked Alastair, stirring his mashed potatoes around with his fork. “How did the Clave get Charlotte to agree to this? They’re practically family. Isn’t the blond one parabatai with the eldest of the Herondales?”

Elias sighed and nodded. “He is— was. He is being stripped of his mark this week.”

Cordelia gasped and felt as if she might vomit. “Matthew would never!”

“He didn’t have a choice,” said Elias. “It was either have his parabatai mark removed or be exiled.”

“He’d choose to be exiled.” Cordelia didn’t know Matthew Fairchild all that well, but she knew he wouldn’t abandon his dearest and oldest friend. The friend he chose to tie his own life.

“He’s not yet eighteen,” said Elias. “He cannot make that choice.”

“Charlotte is allowing this?”

“Charlotte has been removed from her place as Consul for not agreeing to any of this and is being replaced by Marcus Pounceby.”

“Marcus Pounceby!” said Alastair and Cordelia together.

Their father just nodded though his expression had grown increasingly tired. “Yes, it appears that if one just bends every which way for the Clave one can achieve a lot.”

Cordelia had to physically restrain herself from flipping the table. “This is bullshit!”

“Cordelia!” Her mother hissed. “I know you’re upset, but I won’t hear that sort of language at the table.”

“I’m sorry.” She wasn’t, and saying ‘this is crap’ just didn’t justify how she felt. “I can’t believe this is happening. I thought we were supposed to be better than mundanes. This feels like its been torn directly out of one of their history books. Next they’ll have use hunting Downworlders and demons.” She couldn’t sit there any longer. She couldn’t handle any more information that made her want to portal directly to Alicante and demand they strip her of her marks. What was stopping them from exiling her family next? What if they stopped liking her hair color or decided she wasn’t fit to be a Shadowhunter because she was a woman? “May I be excused?”

“You haven’t eaten anything,” said her mother.

“I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Your mother worked—“ Elias started but Sona shook her head and said, “Yes, just clear your plate and you can go.”

——————

In the week that followed that conversation things progressively got worse. It helped that she was in Tehran with her friends, battling demons that terrorized the night and training during the day, until that fateful night when her father declared that they were moving to the London Institute.

The inside seemed as dark and cold as the outside. She didn’t remember it being this way when she visited as a girl. It used to be so full of light, but perhaps it was the people that occupied it that made it that way. Now, it seemed as lonely and depressed by their absence as Cordelia felt.

She dragged her suitcase up the flight of stairs to the second story and shuffled down the hall at a glacial pace as if every step was a concession to agreeing to live here. The hallway had holes in it where pictures were once hung by Tessa of her family and their lives there. Cordelia could remember a few: one of Tessa and Will on their wedding day, another of Tessa heavily pregnant while hanging a Christmas ornament on the tree, one of Will holding a baby, and one of all four of them together underneath the Eiffel Tower. Lucie was only six in the picture and resting her tired head on her father’s shoulder. James stood in front of his mum with a half-smile on his face and a baguette in each of his hands.

The barren walls seemed to groan and sigh as she walked past.

The door she knew to be hers was already opened, a dull strip of light came out into the hallway. Cordelia stood in front of the dark red wood of the door and nudged it open with the toe of her boot. It squeaked on its hinges as it slowly revealed the bedroom inside.

Memories of laughter crashed into her like a blast of icy, winter wind. Two little girls sitting on the massive bed, the covers were thrown over their heads with a witch light glowing between them, as they brought their collection of dolls to life in elaborate stories.

It still smelled like her— like Lucie. A mixture of Damascus roses, ink, and freshly printed papers.

Cordelia sighed and dropped her bag at her feet.

The bed was the only thing that remained of what used to be Lucie’s old bedroom. Stripped of the colorful coverlet and sheets that Lucie had chosen, it was just an old mattress with a plush, lavender velvet headboard. The only sign of there ever having been any more furniture were the marks in the wooden floorboard where Lucie’s writing desk sat and piles of dust in the corners.

“It’s not much now,” said her mother whom she hadn’t heard come up behind her. “But you can make it your own.”

Cordelia scoffed. “I don’t want to make it my own.” It was Lucie’s. It would always be Lucie’s.

She felt her mother’s hand on her waist. “I know this is difficult for you, Layla, but we must make the best of it. It’s what Lucie would have wanted.”

Cordelia turned. “Please don’t talk about her as if she’s dead. I did what you asked, I moved here, please don’t expect me to be happy about it. It’s not enough that I have to stay in this house, but I have to live in her room and make it my own. I won’t. My stuff may be stored in here, but it’s not mine. My room is in Tehran.” She turned back around and glared at the large space before her as if it’d done her some great wrong.

Sona patted her daughter on the waist before releasing her. “I didn’t come up here to upset you more, but I feel I should warn you. The Inquisitor and the Consul are coming by in an hour to meet us. They want to discuss a few things with your father over dinner. I was told to tell you to please be on your absolute best behavior.”

“So you’re asking me to sit there and look pretty?”

Sona’s eyebrows quirked. “We need to support your father. He is the only one in the Clave that has any semblance of reason. They trust him, we need to help strengthen that trust if he is to help make sense of some of this nonsense. Do you understand?”

Cordelia hugged herself. “I hate them.”

“Hate them all you like,” said Sona. “You don’t even have to speak to them if you don’t want to, but you do need to be present. The Consul’s son will be there.”

“Augustus?” said Cordelia with distaste. “Can’t you tell them I’m ill or tired from our travels. Jet lag is still a thing even if you portal.”

Sona tapped her wrist where a watch should be. “Dinner is at seven. Dress respectably.”

Cordelia looked down at the black bike shorts she had under the oversized gray sweatshirt she’d thrown on that morning while she finished all her last-minute packing. By respectable, she knew her mother meant nice, pretty, clean. Look how they want you to look so we can attempt to impress Inquisitor Bridgestock and Consul Pounceby because even though we don’t agree with their decisions, we still have to abide by their laws.

It made her want to punch a hole in the wall or throw something out the window.

She pulled the strap for the scabbard holding Cortana, her beloved sword, over her neck and rested her blade against the wall beside the closet door, and walked across the room to sit on the edge of the mattress.

Never once in her life was she ever not proud to be a Shadowhunter. It was as much a part of her as the color of skin, her name, or the distinct tone of her voice. The angelic blood sang in her veins and powered her limbs to protect those who could not protect themselves against the darkness and evil that threatened it. Never once did she consider that darkness and evil could ever touch or harm her community; that it would never be found there. Now, she came to realize, it was not so far away.

How could she fight her government? She couldn’t, not without consequences, but how could she stay silent either about what she knew to be wrong and unjust.

Her whole existence felt like the inside of a snow globe after it was turned upside down and shaken. Now, she just had to wait for the dust to settle, and perhaps things would not look so different then.

———————

The Consul was the first to arrive.

Cordelia stood in the bathroom mirror smoothing out the dress she’d thrown in the bag she packed while they waited for the rest of their things to arrive from Tehran. The white of the soft fabric warmed her skin and brought out the flecks of copper in her red hair that she left down and curled at the ends. Her mother would scoff at the length of the hem, falling to the middle of her thighs. It wasn’t exactly what Cordelia would have chosen to wear to this dinner either, but she’d left her Fuck the Patriarchy t-shirt and ripped jeans in the box with all of her clothes in Tehran. It may be written in Persian, but the look on her parents’ face would have been worth it, and who knows, perhaps it could have been a conversation starter.

She was pulling on a pair of dark leather sandals when she heard the sound of voices fill the foray. Her mother’s warm, but fake laughter sent a pinch across Cordelia’s spine. She knew it wasn’t sincere, but she still would rather hear the sound of her mother kicking them out of her house rather than welcoming them in.

I am not being complicit, she told herself as she turned towards the bedroom door. I am infiltrating the enemy. I will find their weakness. I will attempt to understand them so I can use the knowledge later to destroy them… And I will spit in their water glasses and lick their bread rolls.

With a practiced smile, she marched towards the door when she felt the give and heard the groan from a floorboard beneath her foot. She looked down and carefully lifted her right foot and watched as the board rose back up.

Interesting. None of the other boards did that.

Carefully, she got down onto her knees and dug her nails into the crack around the board. The perimeters showed markings of being dug out before. She pried it up enough to get her fingers underneath and it popped up with ease. She slid it away and beneath was a white sheet of paper with a garden stone sitting on top of it and Cordelia’s name written on the front.

Cordelia looked up to make sure no one was coming. The voices could still be heard from the foray and dinner didn’t technically start for five more minutes.

She reached down into the hole and slid the paper out from underneath the rock.

Sitting back on her hip, she unfolded it and read:

50 Ernest St, Bethnal Green, London

The Old Clock Tower

February 3, at 10 P.M.

Cielu Rhonelade

Cielu Rhonelade. Cordelia smiled as she mentally rearranged the letters to read Lucie Herondale. It was her nom de plume for a time when they were kids and Lucie wanted to be like the author George Eliot and claim her work under a different name.

But it was Lucie, of that Cordelia was sure, and she wanted to meet with Cordelia tonight.

A/N:

This story can also be found on AO3 if you would prefer to read it there.

Likes, comments, and reblog are always appreciated!

Next update: Friday, 5/14

#the shadowhunter chronicles #chain of gold #chain of iron #chain of thorns #the last hours #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #james x cordelia #jordelia fanfiction #cassandra clare #modern au #alternative au #thomas lightwood #lucie herondale #christopher lightwood #alastair carstairs #will x tessa #jesse blackthorn #grace blackthorn

29 notes · View notes

amethystjewel01 · 4 years

Text

Okay so I had accidentally created an au for Roseblanc, tbh it was in spite but then it became into something I genuinely love without any spite.

These are the designs, personally I like having skin show when I make designs on my own. So that why the dress has a big hip holes, the back covers more though. Riddle's design was based off of Thanatos from the Hades game, that one with beef cake Zack. Also fyi the hair color isn't accurate anymore cause this was drawn before I made my sona reference.

Neige's dress is slightly see through, it's supposed to look fairyish. Cause sweet Persephone gotta be looking fine.

Notes for this AU

Riddle is a combination of both Hades and Thanatos, as I thought that would be more interesting and would give a single god more work than necessary.

While Neige is based on Persephone, there will not be Demeter in this. This is because I honestly couldn't think of someone who could be Demeter, but also because it's easy to write the tale without the need for her.

Amethyst (this is weird, writing in 3rd person about myself) is based off of Hecate, that much is obvious. But she'll more so be like a godly mortal? Like she's still Hecate but more so she is granted god status because of this story then her being born one.

Also Cerberus is Grim, no I won't change that. He even will have a human form, because why not. (He doesn't show up but I just wanted it to be known. Your welcome Cas~ >;3)

Now let's get into this. Written below is essentially what would be the myth of how the ship came to be.

I did get some feedback that Riddle's and Amey's relationship wasn't established enough at the end, so I'll say there is another myth that establishes it more. But I haven't written that yet, it's based off of the time Theseus and Pirithous trying to kidnap Persephone but Hades didn't let that happen.

How my version goes is Amey was gonna be kidnapped instead, and Riddle would have none of it. Basically yeah dhsjsbsjs again I don't have the whole thing written down so I wouldn't be able to fully describe it. But yeah timeline wise it gets better later on.

Legends tell of how the god of springtime met his beloveds, creating a strange yet beautiful unification of both the surface world and the realm of the dead.

This is the tale of Neige, Amethyst, and Riddle. The rulers of the underworld.

It was a normal day for the god of spring, Neige Leblanche, tending to his garden. He would converse with the animals that scurried by him and sometimes grow small berry bushes for them to snack from. He sighs in content, feeling the warm rays of the sun hit his pale skin. He looks up at the sky, a sense of...something filling his being again.

Lately, the god has been feeling...lonely. He didn't understand why, he had his animal friends and his garden. But that sorrow feeling of missing something continued to appear more and more as the years go by. He soon become to crave affection from another, someone who he could have a companionship. Luckily, the fates would grant the god his wish.

A mortal woman, one who seemed to be lost, had stumbled upon the spring god's sacred garden. Normally, no mere mortal could enter the garden. But since the god was feeling oh so lonely, he had allowed the mortal woman to enter his domain.

Amethyst, who had gone hunting, had unknowingly stumbled across the sacred garden of the god of springtime. When she had entered, she looked around in awe at the flora and fauna, never having seen some of them. As she continued to explore this new found place, she never noticed the curious eyes of the god himself. Soon, having been tired from the long and fruitless hunt, she soon falls asleep peacefully.

The god, now more curious than ever, slowly approaches the mortal's sleeping figure. When he was close enough, he quietly rested beside her. His golden brown eyes searched over the women's figure, able to see figure out the woman was one who held magic. It was not common for mortals to wield such a powerful force, and yet even the god could sense the strong aura around the woman. His curiosity grew even more, not realizing his loneliness was shrinking in small bits.

He stayed by the sleeping women's side, basking in the moment of having someone similar in form beside him. But soon, all things come to an end. The woman slowly opened her eyes, surprising the god. Both gasped in shock, immediately creating distance from each other. The woman glared, her hunting dagger unsheathed and aimed at the male. Fear quickly spread through the god, before he realized the woman was acting out of fright and wariness, rather than hatred.

The woman then suddenly made a rush to exit the gardens, not wanting to stay for fear of her own life. But the god yelled after her, stating who he was. In shock, she stopped, facing the male again in disbelief and suspicion. She didn't believe him. But when he explained where she was and demonstrated his power, her skepticism flew with the wind. She, in her ever curiosity of magic, asked him about his powers. The god, in surprise of her immediate curiosity, agreed to teach the woman more about magic and the gods. In condition to her coming to his sacred realm everyday, seeing this as his opportunity for companionship.

The woman agreed, excitement bubbling in her. For while she could wield magic, she was still new at harnessing it. Having a god to help her would be the best thing to ever ask! And so the two had an agreement to meet everyday, talking about both magic and what the woman had seen at her village. A friendship was blooming quickly, both confiding in each other for comfort when needed. And soon...feelings bloomed in the god, feelings so strong he didn't know if he could keep them in any more.

He wanted to confess, but soon quickly realized it wasn't meant to be. He wasn't mortal, he couldn't grow old with her. The thought of seeing her no longer be in the mortal realm with him...it frightened him, it saddened him, and it made him flee from it all. Without notice, to the woman or the other gods, Neige fled to the underworld to hide in his sorrow.

It was very surprising to the lord of the underworld, Riddle, to see the god of springtime show up at his doorstep. When he asked why someone who doesn't belong in the underworld even be there, Neige didn't answer. With a sigh the god of the underworld allowed the male to stay in his domain for as long as he liked. Neige thanked him, allowing the guards of the underworld castle to escort him into a room.

Riddle sighed again, now having to take care of another god while he lead the souls to the underworld and ran the realm. But he couldn't dwell on it, there was work to be done, and souls to be brought down.

As the months went by, the two males grew a fondness for each other. Both not understanding how this came to be, especially Neige. He still loved the mortal woman who gave him the companionship he needed, and yet...being with the lord of the underworld made him just as happy. Granted, while he missed the sunshine and his blooming flowers ever so much, he still couldn't bare to leave the other god by himself.

Riddle himself was confused by not only Neige's attachment, but also his own fondness for the fellow god. But as he quickly tried to rationalize it all, he realized that he fell in love with the springtime god. Being the lord of the underworld was a tasking job. Not only did he have to lead the souls of the dead to his realm, but he also had to sort where each soul would reside in for their afterlife. And even then he had to make sure the harpies and other mythical creatures wouldn't act out of line in his domain.

He never realized it until now that...that he himself was lonely. Having only guards, who were those who made great accomplishments in their lives, as other presences in his castle. Having the god of springtime there to keep company and even talk to gave him a way to cope with the stress of his eternal life as the ruler of the underworld.

But as the gods continued to explore their feelings for one another, another figure was suffering from heartache.

Amethyst had no idea where the god she spent time with went, he disappeared from her. Every day she would visit his sacred garden in hope of finding him there, waiting for her so the two could talk again. Even when the world turned cold and freezing, a state she had no idea the world could be, she would visit the slowly dying garden. But he was never there, causing her heartache to grow more and more. She didn't know what was the reason for his disappearance, was it her fault? Did she do something to offend the god? What? What was it that made the one she loved-

Love...she loved him. She had only realized now that she grew to love the god, making his disappearance all the more heartbreaking for her. But she was determined, now on a mission to find the god. Although...she didn't know where to start, for she may have magic, but she was only a mortal hunter. She went home to ask the Oracle of her village, for any semblance of a path for her to take.

When the Oracle revealed where she should go, she was shocked to say the least. Why would he be in the underworld? What reasons could there possibly be? With her goal in hand, she turned to walk away. But the Oracle continued on, stating how important it was to bring the god of springtime back. For if he stayed too long in the underworld, the mortal realm won't be able to last.

Neige had noticed that as the months went by, more and more souls have been lead to the underworld. He didn't know why though, for even Riddle didn't know. But as the ruler of the underworld took longer and longer on the surface to drag the souls of the dead back, Neige began to become lonely again. Regret settled into his stomach when he thought of the woman who first stole his heart.

He regretted leaving her so suddenly, not even revealing his feelings and instead fled due to his own cowardice. He missed his garden so very much too, having such fond memories of talking with the woman there. He wanted to go back, but he wasn't sure how. It's not supposed to be easy for someone to leave the underworld, not even a god like himself, especially since he's never been in the realm before now. He had wanted to ask the ruler himself but...Riddle was so busy with the spike in deaths that he would barely see the fellow god.

So Neige let himself wallow in his regret and sadness, not even realizing the more he did the worse the world above became. But luckily, one day, he heard something. It sounded familiar to him in a way, like a presence was there with him. He looked around him, only to a figure standing there, one of a familiar shape. Before he could even ask why Amethyst was there, she had glared and grabbed his arm. Quickly she dragged the shocked silence god out of the castle, surprisingly not alerting any of the guards.

As she dragged him, his voice finally returned to him. He asked all of his questions rapidly, worried that her presence here means she had perished as well. But she never answered him, not even looking at him. She soon stopped, letting go of the god's arm. He could see her shake, before she turned around to show her tear stricken face. She yelled at him, asking why he was here and why he left her. The god starred on in shock as the woman screamed out her frustrations to the immortal being, subsequently revealing her deep feelings.

He didn't know how to respond, but...tears fell down his cheeks in relief. She loved him back all this time, what a fool he was. Before he could confess his own hidden feelings, the woman revealed to him the cause of the piling deaths. Again he was shocked at how foolish he was, causing so much to happen in his attempt to flee from his problems. He apologized profusely, not knowing such a reaction would happen. The two agreed they could talk after returning to the mortal realm. And so they traversed the underworld, lead by the light of the woman's torch.

With enough time, the two reached the surface. Neige looked on in awe as he saw the area around him covered in silvery powered snow, he knew such a thing existed but he's never seen it before. As they walked further from the entrance, the crunch sound of their footsteps echoed. It was only when another set of footprints caught their attention. They turned their heads to meet eyes with Riddle's, which were widened in shock as he looked at the two.

Riddle didn't know what to make up of the scene before him. A woman, a mortal, was pulling his beloved away from the domain he ruled. Anger rose in the god, how dare a mere mortal try to take his love? And not even that, a mortal who found a way to enter and leave his domain with no trouble. The god screamed, demanding the meaning of what was happening. The woman attempted to speak, but instead she was hit by a powerful blow of magic from the angry god.

Neige didn't know what to do, both people he's fallen for are about to fight. He knew the other god could kill and torture the woman at any moment, so he cried out in desperation to stop it before it happened. He begged them to listen to his words, for he didn't want the two he loved to fight and kill on another. His words reached Riddle, who snapped out of his rage for a short time.

It had come to the conclusion that Neige must stay on the surface, until...it came to light that Neige had accidentally bound himself to the underworld. The woman asked how, only to be answered that the god of springtime ate fruit of the dead. The woman, who was more stubborn than any other, demanded that she must accompany Neige on his journeys between the realms and stay with him in the underworld then. She wasn't going to let her love leave her again.

The ruler of the underworld laughed, saying that he can't just let a mortal do as she wishes. Only a god is allowed to transverse and stay between the realms. There were rules that must stay in place for all souls, living beings stay out, the dead stays in. The god then said she would be welcomed to stay if she wished to be dead like the many residents of the underworld in a mocking tone. In frustration the woman asked if the springtime god recently ate a fruit, when he answered yes she pulled him close and quickly kissed him.

When she pulled away she realized she could still actually taste the fruit of the dead, a taste so sweet it almost made her gag. The two gods looked at her in shock, wondering if she realized what she did. She smirks at Riddle, asking him if that would let her traverse between the realms. Of course the male screamed no, yelling in frustration that only made her bound to the underworld as well. Meaning that she couldn't leave it since she was mortal, which frustrated the female.

But soon something became apparent to the two gods, any mortal who tasted the fruit was supposed to die on instinct. For the fruit was close to ambrosia when consumed by mortals, it would be a gruesome death. The mortal had somehow become a god while she was dragging Neige out of the underworld, which greatly shocked them. But then they realized that it must've been because the king of the gods granted her this life because of her bravery and sacrifice to save the mortal realm.

With reluctance, Riddle agreed to the now goddess' terms. And so this is how it has been for eternity, Neige and Amethyst, now known as the goddess of magic, traversing between the two realms every six months. As the centuries went by, Riddle and Amethyst had even fell in love with each other. Which greatly confused the two but Neige was there to help his loves see what they could be together.

They now rule the underworld together, all while loving each other.

And that is the tale of how the god of springtime, the ruler of the underworld, and the mortal turned goddess came together in the name of love.

#roseblanc #i wanna put the main twst tags #but im too scared #so just roseblanc #sbsjsbsj #I will admit im still proud of the designs #but art wise I only like the female #i can only draw girls help #me no good at male anatomy

7 notes · View notes

ladybuvelle · 6 years

Text

An Inch For a Mile

As Sona’s carriage arrived at the entrance of the hamlet, it was hard not to smile at least a little. Small villages always had such charm and a sense of community about them. Jandelle was a beautiful place, and the locals had decorated all over for Snowdown. A dusting of snow - not enough to deter travel - gave the fluffy swaths of pine needle vines and bright colors bows just the right amount of charm for the holiday. It was all so picturesque... pity it was too cold for landscape painting.

But that wasn’t why she was here anyway (even if Sona had a talent for painting in the first place). Samantha, the young girl at the center of great change in her more recent years, had invited her to dinner with her adoptive family.

Remembering that wiped the smile from her lips and curled her brows with concern. She hadn’t seen the girl since then. Too scared. Too ashamed. Guilt plagued her since that day, and even her kind letters and warm wishes couldn’t melt the ice that had grown around her soul. A frozen feeling of helplessness. Some mistakes simply can’t be made up for.

Some truths are too difficult to speak. More so when once can’t speak at all.

But what Sona couldn’t manage to do for herself she could at least make the effort to do for others. She was invited, and so she would attend. Even if it was hard for her. Even if every part of her wanted to believe that secretly she was deeply hated and feared.

After all, they all saw it. The Etwahl’s magic. All the children in all the orphanage, matrons and any other guests that day included. They knew. There could be no mistake.

She could still see the confused look in Sam’s birth father’s eyes as he fell bleeding... Too drunk to comprehend anything, his rage draining onto the ground in a pool...

“My lady, we’ve arrived” called the coachman, and her eyes sprung up as if waking from a dream. A dream that left her momentarily pale despite the chill in her cheeks.

The house they’d parked in front of was charming as expected. A simple yard farm lay at one side, barren for the season save a hardy squash here and there. A dog was barking, running past the front gate to greet their carriage, and a man called after it to heel. It was Samantha’s adoptive father, Mr Heatherbow. He looked very pink in the cheeks. Likely he had been waiting for her.

“Ho there!” he greeted the coachman, holding his excited hound back. “Is Lady Buvelle on board?”

“Indeed, sir” the man nodded, jumping down from his seat to open the door and help Sona out of it. If it hadn’t been so cold already she was sure she would have been blushing as she took her steps down to the hard soil. Mr Heatherbow looked more than delighted to see her. Perhaps because it meant he could finally go back inside where it was warm.

“My Lady!” he exclaimed, arms out as if he were about to embrace her - though he would never dare do such a thing to an upper class noble of such stature. “Thank you so much for making the journey! We were worried you might not make it, or had other plans arise.”

True. It was unusual for someone of her status to accept such an invitation. But Sona was also an unusual person. “Samantha will be delighted! Come, come please! It’s freezing out here, innit? Ah- is it not?”

Oh, he was trying to speak more formally for her sake. She wished she could assure him that wasn’t needed. The coachman busied himself with unloading the lady’s luggage of gifts and personal items as Mr Hearthbow lead her toward his home. “Don’t mind Foxer, he’s mostly made of springs and sneezes” he joked about his eager dog who was indeed jumping around Sona excitedly to greet and sniff her over. He clearly smelled cat on her. Many cats. And the airs of a different place in general - as well as her perfume, of course.

Indeed, he also did sneeze a lot. Right into the dusty snow on the ground. Enough to kick up some of it.

Dogs were quite silly things.

And it was as if all the noise and sneezing were enough to beckon Misses Heatherbow to the door, the lady of the house peeking out into the cold and her eyes lighting up at the sight of them. “Lady Buvelle! You honor us, indeed!” she called out, her full form visible as the door was opened wider. Soon after was the patter of shoes against the wooden floor, and a girl with longer hair than she remembered appeared at her adoptive mother’s side. A big, bright bow adorned her braid and a lovely winter dress of dark green was worn smartly on her person. She looked so much older. <Samantha...>

“Miss Sona!!” she cried excitedly, running outside to meet her before her poor mother could fetch the girl a coat. Unlike her father, Samantha had no restraint in her love for the Maven - especially not then, when the woman she considered her personal hero had answered her invitation. Sona didn’t even have to lower herself to hug the girl properly as she jumped into her arms, cheering and joyful as if it were Snowdown morning already.

It was all Sona could do not to burst into tears.

“I knew you would come!” Samantha cried, sounding tearful herself with joy. “I missed you so much!”

“You can do all that in here, you lot” her mother called, beckoning everyone inside with a motherly tone that said they’d better do it now. “Before you catch your death of cold out there!”

“Yes, mama” Samantha promptly responded, letting go of Sona’s hold but soon taking the lady’s hand to lead her along as a brisk pace. “Come on, Miss Sona! I want to show you! Our tree, my room-”

“Now don’t you bother the Lady too much, honey. And call her Lady Buvelle! Light and truth...”

“But mama...”

<Ah> Sona thought to herself, <Family...>

#drabble #An Inch For A Mile #a belated snowdown story #because I was too freaking tired

6 notes · View notes

kheichou-blog · 7 years

Text

10 Songs I’m Currently Obsessed With

Tagged by: @geekgoddess813

I love music, and my favorites are always changing and shifting and what not lol SOOOOOOOO... if I’ve been tagged in this once, I can do it again pretty much any other time cause it’ll likely always have a bit of difference xD

I’ll link to each song so if you feel like it, you can take a listen! Aaaand of course don’t feel like you have to read every mini paragraph of mine LOL

These are in no particular order~

1: Hate Me- Blue October

The first time I heard this song it honestly brought me to tears. Now my favorite version of this song is an acoustic version that I’ve only managed to hear on Pandora, but I will gladly listen to -any- version of this song. Blue October is a very special group to me, and this song especially hits me really hard, not necessarily for the exact things he’s singing about, but it hits a lot of things I’ve struggled with and thought. It’s one of the songs that is going to forever and ever be on my sona’s playlist.

2: Change (In the House of Flies)- Deftones

So I’ve always love love LOVED this song. Like Hate Me, it makes me feel -very- emotional, this is the song I’m reeeeeally working on doing a solo for because the best way to do a solo is to find a song that just... makes you feel so much you feel it overflowing. It’s also one of the songs I didn’t even think twice before throwing into the playlist of angsty goodness for one of @prettyprompto and I’s current RPs LOL But yeah, it’s a really good song, and I’ve always just been extremely drawn to it.

3: Elastic Heart- (Rock Cover) Written by Wolves

Okay... I’m a SIA whore, but it’s seriously because of this cover of this song. As much as I love the original, to me, this version specifically really conveys this feeling of like, easy easy easy POW. Like I adore how you get the verses, and you just get duder singing and it’s like “oh this is alright” and then suddenly you find yourself with eyeliner pouring down your eyes shouting “WELL I’VE GOT THICK SKIN AND AN ELASTIC HEART” right there with him while the guitars and drums kick the fuck up and AH <3 Just a great cover in my opinion!

4: Gods & Monsters- Jessica Lange

Ever since I performed in my local vaudeville and one of our guys dressed as bride of Frankenstein and performed this, I -loved- it. The performance itself was just... gorgeous. I would share it if I could, but I don’t have permission from the performer and stuff x’D This version especially I adore. It has this air of mystery that the original just doesn’t... and in my honest opinion, it sounds so much less try hard and forced edge. The words they used to replace some of the original lyrics just... flows a lot better to me! Props to that beautiful smokey voice Jessica Lange possesses that I wish I could match ;v;

5: Boom- iBenji

Okay so one of my belly girls and I have been dancing to this for MONTHS, we’re getting ready to do our second performance to this piece (after adding a third person to it too :D) and well... what’s the significance of that? WELL... when you’re performing a dance to a piece... you listen to it multiple times, I’ve probably easily listened to the 2 and a half minute cut of this the goils and I are doing at least 300 times now and I tell you........ somehow I am not at all tired of it. This song is so fucking powerful, and I just can’t help but feel like a badass and bounce around to it whenever I hear it~

6: Hold My Heart- Lindsey Stirling feat. ZZ Ward

So if someone asked me what Iggy and Ashe’s song would be.... well I’d have two answers for yah honestly! One of them would be Fallen Angel from Panty and Stocking, but the other one is this, because this encapsulates the person Ashe was eeeearly early on in the relationship (little miss I DON’T NEED YOU CAUSE I’M STRONG but I guess like... it would be nice to like... have someone to love and love me back...?)

7: Butterfly- Bassnectar feat. Mimi Page

I love the feeling of wonder mixed with power in this one. I always feel like I’m being swept away on a magical and colorful adventure when I hear this. I often find myself picking it up when I start a new drawing or stream (or drawing stream lol). Great song for veil, that’s actually how I discovered this song! A gal did a dance to this with isis wings that looked like butterfly wings and it was instant love~

8: Careless Whisper- Seether

Ever since I heard Sexy Saxophone Guy, I was like “Oh... this song will never be sexy~” HAAAAAHAHAHAHA boy was I wrong...

Now look, I’m not the biggest fan of Seether. Sometimes I like him, sometimes I can’t mash the skip button fast enough, but you can pretty much always bet as soon as I hear the intro to this, I’ll be whipping out a chair and going FULL FUCKING DIVA QUEEN MODE. Also great whenever I need to write something... *ahem*... spicy~

9: Opera 2- Vitas

Okay look, I see Vitas getting a loooooooooot of shit cause of the 7th element song thing and they just kind of assume that all that happens when he hits the stage is he bobs around and makes a bunch of noise (which I’m sorry, have you ever tried to get up and make the noises with the pitch and control he does?! -hard cough- /end rant), but Opera 2 is the first song I ever heard of his and you can bet I was COMPLETELY blown away. His voice was so otherworldly to me and spine chillingly clear. I can see why he’s not a lot of people’s tastes, but hoooooooooly shit, I love this song, and I wish more people knew about it and knew how incredibly talented Vitas is. 5 Octaves of range man ._.

10: I Am The Highway- Audioslave

This song... helped me put a lot behind me and be okay. My cousin actually commissioned me to make her a poster based on this song so I’ve been listening to it a looooooooot lately, which I’m totally okay with because despite the things I associate it with, I adore it. It weighs so much heavier with Chris Cornell being gone now... but this song hasn’t been absent from my ipod/iphone for over 10 years...

Tagging: (Feel free to ignore this if you’ve already done it or don’t feel like it or whatever)

@crowryn-arts @amicitonia @prompto-protection-agent @sjokohama

and uh... anyone else who wants to do the thing!

#My current top 10 I guess #seriously this will change by tomorrow even LOL #there's also way more than 10 but whatever xD #sorry for spilling my guts everywhere on some of these #I'll be sure to clean them up on my way out LOL

7 notes · View notes

spookydru · 7 years

Text

Shadow of My Heart

I’ve gotten a lot of asks and messages asking when I was going to post my TLH fanfic and because of all the drama and lots of people going on hiatus, I decided to post the first chapter now as a thank you to everyone who is still here and dedicated. I love you guys!

There are probably a lot of grammatical and spelling errors but oh well. Also title is a work in progress but I thought it would be weird to post a fanfic with out a title so that’s what you get lol.

If you want to read on AO3 there’s the link. Hope you guys enjoy!

Chapter 1: Life on Fire

In the winter of 1902 Cordelia Carstairs parents died from a fire that erupted in their home in Paris. Her brother Alastair and Cordelia were on patrol in the city, when they got back to their house all they could see was debris, smoke, and flames where their home used to be.

Cordelia put her hand to her sword Cortona to give her strength and started to run towards the flames when Alastair caught her arm and pulled her back to the sidewalk.

“But mother and father, we have to help them, Alastair. Let go they are still in there.”

“It’s too late Cordelia. The fire has already spread to the roof. We should call the clave.” She turned to look back at her brother, a gleam of anger and confusion was in her eyes.

“So we are to just stand here watch our home and parents be burned to the ground?” Cordelia struggled to get out of her brother’s grip but it was firm and ungiving.

“We do what we are ordered to do and now, that is to report to the clave what has happened”. Cordelia glared at Alastair and looked at him as if he was no longer her brother. That he hadn’t been her brother for a long time. He let her go and grabbed his stele to send a fire message. Cordelia couldn’t take her eyes off their once beautiful, parisian home where she had so many memories. Not all were good, most of them were her mother scolding her to be more ladylike or her father saying she should be more responsible like her brother. She wiped the tears that had escaped from her eyes. She hadn’t cried since she was young and the feeling of her throat and eyes stinging was unfamiliar. She tried to take a deep breath but she choked on the smoke.

She could hear wagons coming near and her neighbors yelling in a panic but she didn’t move, didn’t say a word.

“They should be here soon” Cordelia hadn’t noticed her brother come up behind her.

“Where will we go?” Alastair didn’t reply. She whispered under her breath so low she wasn’t even sure herself if she spoke or not.

“Ave atque vale mother and father. Delam barat tang shode, man asheghe shoma hastam.”

It wasn’t long before the Inquisitor and the Silent Brothers were there along with the High Warlock of Paris, Cain Clack. Mr. Clack was working on clearing the debris and putting out the flames, red sparks came out of his hands while doing this. The Inquisitor walked toward Alastair, who was standing and analyzing the situation as if he was playing some integral role in the situation, and Cordelia who was sitting on road holding a piece of paper that looked like it had once been part of a book but the edges had been charred away.

“The Silent Brothers are taking a look around the house to see what caused the fire” The Inquisitor took a look back at the house as if just then realizing they could no longer live there, “ Miss Carstairs you have a parabatai don’t you?”

“Yes, Lucie Herondale”. She missed Lucie dearly. Her best friend, her parabatai. She hadn’t seen Lucie in almost a year. Sona, Cordelia’s mother, and Tessa would take them to Alicante to spend time with each other or Tessa would take Lucie to Paris. Sona hated London which made it difficult for Cordelia to see Lucie.

“Ah yes, daughter of William Herondale.” He looked at Cordelia deciding if what he was thinking was a smart idea, “You will stay at the London Institute with your parabatai for the time being. I will send a fire message to the Institute that they should be expecting your arrival.”

“I would like to request that I be sent to the London Institute as well,” Alastair spoke in a posh voice that made Cordelia’s ears hurt like someone had put nails to a chalkboard. It was the voice he would use with anyone with a higher position than him to make himself seem more distinguished. To Cordelia, it was just annoying, “I went to the Academy with Mr. Herondale’s son and I do not like the idea of my sister being left alone with him.” Cordelia rolled her eyes.

“Pateh kesi rā ruye āb rikhtan. You don’t even know him and besides it wouldn’t be as if I’d be alone with him”. Cordelia smiled as she remembered the golden eyed boy she had met when she was twelve. She thought he was beautiful with his uniquely bright gold eyes and his contrastingly dark hair. She hadn’t seen him since she was fourteen when both of their families had been visiting Idris. Alastair looked at her like she had just cursed in front of the Inquisitor. Like their mother, Alastair didn’t approve of using Farsi when there were others around who didn’t know the language. Cordelia didn’t care, she loved speaking Farsi and if it annoyed her brother then that was even better.

The Inquisitor coughed awkwardly, “I’ll talk to the warlock about obtaining a portal to London.”

Cordelia walked up to what used to be the front porch of her house and she entered what remained of the entry way and drawing room. Everything around her was black, she was still wearing her gear from earlier which made her almost blend in with her destroyed home. The only way she could see around her was from the moonlight coming in through the now burned and exposed roof. She climbed up what was left of the stair case, being careful not to go too close to where the banister had been burned away. When she made it to the second floor she went to where her room was and took in the sight of her ashen room. This was the bedroom in which she had first touched Cortana, this was the room where she had her first kiss from a Parisian boy in the neighborhood. This was the bedroom where she stayed up late writing to Lucie about the latest pranks she had played on Alastair and the latest adventures she had gone on. It was not her only bedroom, she had a bedroom in Carstairs manor in Idris, but still, it was special to her because Paris was special to her. She turned to where her closet would be and saw burned scraps of material. She sighed and looked to her clothing trunk that was at the foot of her soot rudden bed. It was also black but at least it was still intact. She opened it and the bright material inside contrasted greatly amongst the grey and black. Relieved that she at least had a few clothes that had survived changed out of her gear and into a dark blue dress. She closed the trunk and tried to wipe it as clean as she could with her already dirtied gear. She carried the trunk downstairs but not without a last glance towards her parent’s bedroom. Is that where her parents died? Did they even notice the fire? Did they suffer?

She carefully walked down the stairs and set the trunk down by where the front door used to be. She could see Alastair following the Inquisitor around like a puppy dog. She walked towards the back of the house to where the library was. She braced herself and pushed the door opened. It only opened a quarter of the way, so she slid through the opening and saw what prevented the door from opening. A book case had fallen against the door and hundreds of books, or what used to be books, scattered the floor in charred, ashed piles. The library had been one of Cordelia’s favorite places. It was the only time her father had shown much interest in her. They would talk about all the books he had collected over the years, from all over the world. Cordelia hadn’t read all of them, not even a quarter of them, but they were comforting to her and the ones she had read had been brilliant new worlds she could lose herself in when she was younger.

What has been lost cannot be replaced. Said a voice in her mind that was not her own. She looked behind her towards the door and saw parchment colored robes, a clear indicator of the Silent Brothers.

“Brother Zachariah, did you know my father well?” Cordelia knew Brother Zachariah was the youngest of the Silent Brothers but he looked ancient. She also knew he had once been a Carstairs.

A time ago, when I was just a boy I met him. My father’s brother. Then I met him again when you and your brother were born and then again on your parabatai ceremony. The Herondales were very close with Brother Zachariah and even called him by his Christian name, Jem. James was even named after him. It had always struck her mother as strange and unnatural the Herondale’s relationship with him, but Cordelia had caught her father once looking at Mr. and Mrs. Herondale speaking with Brother Zachariah with fondness, there was also a sort of sadness in that look which Cordelia had never understood. But no, I did not know him well.

“Cordelia the warlock is read-, oh pardon me Brother Zachariah.” Alastair looked confused as to why Brother Zachariah would be talking to his sister in their burned down library.

“You mean Mr. Clack.” Cordelia reminded her brother. Alastair had a prejudicious habit of calling downworlders by their race instead of their name. He turned and walked away from them without another word.

You will feel more at peace once you are with your parabatai again. He said it as if he were completely certain of it and Cordelia hoped he was right. Remember that the Carstairs owe the Herondales.

“I will.” She said and then she was left alone with her thoughts. Even in the room that for so many years brought her comfort, she could not suppress the utter loneliness and grief she felt.

After Note:

Delam barat tang shode is Farsi for I miss you or literally, my heart becomes tight for you.

Man asheghe shoma hastam is Farsi for I love you.

Pateh kesi rā ruye āb rikhtan is a Persian idiom that is similar to the phrase, I call your bluff.

#tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #shadow of my heart #Cordelia Carstairs #tlh #the last hours #shadowhunters #tsc fanfic #tsc fanfiction

16 notes · View notes