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potionboy3 · 2 years

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Character profile

► basics; Full Name: Agata della Rovere Birthday: 5th of november 18xx (she is around 34-37 at the time HPHL takes place) Pronouns: she/her Sexual Orientation: Straight Blood Status: pureblood Nationality: Italian Personality type: ESTP Personality: Agata is very independent, ambitious and brave. She doesn’t take anyone else's opinions into consideration that often but is also very great at separating herself from a situation, which makes her a valuable worker. She hates not knowing what she wants and relies a lot on her head rather than heart. She doesn’t fall in love easily.

► magical info;

Wand: Hazel wood with a dragon heartstring core, 14 ¼ and hard flexibility

A sensitive wand, hazel often reflected its owner's emotional state, and worked best for a master who understood and could manage their own feelings. Others should be very careful handling a hazel wand if its owner had recently lost their temper, or suffered a serious disappointment, because the wand would absorb such energy and discharge it unpredictably. The positive aspect of a hazel wand more than made up for such minor discomforts, however, for it was capable of outstanding magic in the hands of the skilful, and was so devoted to its owner that it often "wilted" (which is to say, it expelled all its magic and refused to perform, often necessitating the extraction of the core and its insertion into another casing, if the wand was still required) at the end of its master's life (if the core was unicorn hair, however, there was no hope; the wand would almost certainly have "died"). Hazel wands also had the unique ability to detect water underground, and would emit silvery, tear-shaped puffs of smoke if passing over concealed springs and wells.

Patronus: Adder The Adder Patronus represents determination, cunning, and being free-spirited. An adder is a tough and cunning snake and just like those who cast this Patronus, they know what they want and go for it. If this is your Patronus, you work hard and exceed the limitations that others put on you. Typically, adders will fiercely attack when threatened, which means a Dementor should be afraid of going up against this fearless Patronus.

Patrounus memory: She remembers herself crying of happiness after leaving a situation that was not for her.

Boggart: Ezra in pain

Specialized/Favourite spells: Petrificus Totalus ► background;

Place of Birth: Florence, Italy

Home: Palazzo Della Rovere, hidden from muggles

Little history of the Della Rovere's in the wizarding society:

Della Rovere's were thought to have ended their family line in Vittoria Della Rovere (1694) who married into de' Medici family and the titles became extinct with the extinction of the House of Medici with the death of her grandson Gian Gastone de' Medici, Grand Duke of Tuscany in 1737. The family line continued how ever in secret as they were almost reveled to the muggles for being wizards. They left Rome and Urbino and created a hidden home in Florence, following in Vittoria's footsteps. With time they were wiped from the lives of the muggle's but stayed well known and wealthy as well as more powerful than ever in their wizarding society. They would later be known as just Rovere’s

Childhood:

Agata was the oldest child of Francesco Maria IV della Rovere and Teresa Miani. She grew in luxury and enjoyed every bit of it as a child. She was home schooled but grew out to be extremely talented witch. She was also skilled in languages as the family traveled a lot and she always knew that she’d want to work internationally.

► physical;

Faceclaim: Vittoria Puccini Eye Color: green Hair Color: light brown Height: 175cm

Story:

When Agata was 18, she met the travelling wizard writer Ezra Greeneway. He fell in love with her and she loved his beauty and they started a fiery relationship that lead Ezra to ask for her hand in marriage. Loving to be mysterious, she left her waiting for a while without giving a proper answer waiting to see if he'd still wait but eventually her family, who all loved Ezra, begged for her to accept and she did. She was excited about the wedding and their love but eventually started to feel doubtful of the marriage and what it would mean for her. She found herself unable to say yes to him and ran away breaking his heart.

After the wedding she had everyone's eyes on her, people were disappointed and angry and her family was ashamed threatening to promise her to next suitor that would have her if anyone else ever would. She moved away from her family and focused on her career and eventually moved to London to work with the Ministry Of Magic in international businesses.

► fashion;

► relatives;

Father: Francesco Maria IV della Rovere Head of the Della Rovere family at the time of Agatha's birth. He wanted his children to be happy and marry who ever they wanted to as he did himself but after Agata decided not to marry Ezra he grew angry and judged her choice. The two weren't close after she left to London.

Mother: Teresa Miani

Teresa came from a less wealthy pureblood family. Her family had lost their wealth when she met her future husband. He chose to marry her. Teresa and Agata often argued but she loved her perhaps the most out of all her children. When she moved away it was a great loss for her and she kept in touch with her even when she left the country. Younger brother: Achille della Rovere Being the oldest child, Agata was to inherit most of the family’s fortunes. After Agata left Italy, her younger brother Achille was named the heir. He’s sly and quick tempered and always hated being second to Agata. Out of the siblings he is more distant to Agata. Even though they had a little competition growing up, the two did still care for one another and defended each other when needed. She wasn’t mad at him for taking the leading position in the family since she herself had other dreams.

faceclaim: matteo martari

Favorite brother: Angelo della Rovere Angelo is the youngest of the three children. Agata and Angelo have around 20 years of age difference. She adores him and was a big part on raising him. Angelo was home schooled like the other two children but it proved difficult for him. After he turned 14, he made a decision to move to England to live with Agata in order to go to Hogwarts. He was sorted in Slytherin. Angelo is a combination of his two siblings. He has a quick temper and he thinks highly of himself and wants to do great in life and to have glory. Still being the youngest child with no certain future plans has made him secretly very insecure and afraid. He also has a big heart, even if he doesn’t show it to everyone and he thinks his sister is the most brilliant person to exist.

faceclaim: giorgio belli

Daughter: Ruth Marchmont

faceclaim: sophia bush

► relationships;

Love interests:

Ezra Greenaway Agata and Ezra met when he first traveled to Italy. He adored her from the moment they met and she loved that about him. Agata was greedy for that sort of attention and already had lot of admirers. Ezra was the most beautiful one to her and she admired that he had high ambitions and agreed to marry him eventually after pondering on it. It was only later that she started to think about how this marriage could turn out to be like. She feared for him to leave her for too long and having to be a stay at home and be a mother all alone, being also a very powerful witch and career oriented, it scared her that she would have to be just someone's wife and arm piece. She didn't want to adventure with him either as she was more focused on the hopes and dreams of her own career. The last option would have been for Ezra to give up his dreams and that was also something she suddenly couldn’t find herself asking from him so she decided to break his heart in order for him to forget about her and focus on himself.

Russell “Rusty” Marchmont @cursebreakerfarrier

STORY TO BE UPDATED

Friends:

OPEN FOR FRIENDS

Allegiances: The Della Rovere family, British & Italian Ministry of Magic

► misc;

Hobbies & Extracurriculars: Riding, wizard chess, studying languages Favourite Subject: History of magic

Professions: Works at the International Magical Office of Law in The Ministry Of Magic

#Agata Della Rovere #hphl #love interest open #friends open #also going to most likely add so much to this but i haven't figured everything out yet #ezra greenaway #character profile mine

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soulmate-game · 4 years

Text

I was feeling angsty. Read at your own risk, there is very little comfort in this and a whole shit ton of hurt. Probably a bunch of emotional triggers, so seriously be careful guys.

—*—*—*—*—*

Liquid pain ran down her arm like poison, the slash in it burning hot and spreading it’s agony like an invisible waterfall inside her flesh. But she did not grip her bicep where the wound had been inflicted, her gaze blank as she forced herself to hide her turmoil behind glass eyes. Her brother’s snarling face was only inches in front of her own, his katana moving from her arm to her throat.

“Useless! To think we share any blood relation is humiliating!” He growled at her. She did not move, did not emote. Her blades fans, the weapon she was loved most, lay half-opened on the ground beside her. Abandoned. But she knew Damian’s sword would not kill her. Blood family was a bond that was not to be severed by murder unless ordered by Ra’s or justified by the murdered family member in question betraying the League. She had done nothing to betray the Shadows, and Ra’s would not waste time and energy, or the breath it would require, to order her death. Just as he would not waste the precious waters of the Pit to bring her back again. She would not die today, and she knew it.

Sure enough, it was only a few more insults in various languages before Damian Al-Ghul stepped back and scowled down at the blood on his blade. Her blood. “If you don’t even have the stomach for real combat, you do not belong here,” he spat.

“That is where we agree, Grandson,” Ra’s sharp voice echoed through the room, his beady eyes never once bothering to glance at his granddaughter. “Maria, you are hereby stripped of the name Al-Ghul. Banishment from the League is the only mercy you shall be granted for your dishonor on our blood. Be useful and use whatever is left of your mistake of a life to stay out of the League’s way. Shall I, Damian, or your mother ever see your face again, your burial will follow shortly after. Am I understood?”

“Yes Gr— yes, Ra’s Al-Ghul.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Maria Al-Ghul was seven years old when she was disowned and sent away from the League of Shadows without so much as a penny to her name. She was only allowed to take the change of clothes she carried, and one small backpack’s worth of items. Her mother— Talia— had watched vigilantly as she packed those items, assuring that Maria did not take anything of worth.

The girl traveled by foot, too small to get away with driving a vehicle. Unless she could manage to steal a motorbike— she knew how to adjust the seats and pedals on most models to accommodate her size. But she was far too far away from civilization for that.

She knew that most of the League expected her to die in the jungles that surrounded the temple. After all, there were ninjas scattered throughout it with strict orders to kill anyone who was not one of them. And Maria now fit that description.

But if there was one thing Maria knew better than anything else, it was how to hide. How to hide feelings, intentions, involuntary movements, or her whole body in almost any setting. She covered herself in mud, matted her hair with dirt and took off her shoes. Barefoot was always quieter, and her feet would be more sensitive to any change in terrain. She would have to move more slowly and be on the lookout for traps, ground litter that could harm her, or dangerous wildlife, but she would be much harder to track.

It took her a month, but she made it to her first Tibetan city alive and decently healthy. She begged for food for a day before snatching a child’s outfit off of some hanging laundry lines and stealing the first decent vehicle she found. It was an old moped, but it beat walking and was already built small. She made it work.

That was how she spent the majority of the next year. She traveled from town to town, stealing what she needed until she could earn money normally. She used that money to buy herself a fake identity, even if she had to use the skills she had hoped to never need again in order to afford it.

Marinette Shiwang was born when she was already eight years old.

It was only a year after her new identity was created when she bumped into a woman in a street market. That was nothing new, those places could get crowded. But when Marinette looked up and saw valuable bracelets and necklaces of gold and jade, she knew she needed at least one. The money she would get for it would have her living comfortably for a short while. So Marinette’s theft-experienced fingers darted out and unclasped one bracelet in a fluid movement. It took less than a second. She barely had the piece of jewelry in her hand before she started to take off, hoping to lose herself in the crowd.

But a small hand clamped around her shoulder, a sturdy thumb pressing against a very vulnerable spot right at the back of Marinette’s neck, at the base of her skull. A clear threat from somebody with experience.

The sweet voice that followed didn’t match the gesture at all.

“Oh, I need that back dear. It was a gift from my husband, you understand.”

Marinette did. She cared about survival more. The small girl twisted, knocking the hand away from her before it could do damage and darting down a side street. The woman followed. It took three hours, but Marinette decided she had finally lost her pursuer before slumping down in the tiny, closet-sized bedroom of her cheap apartment. Her eyes closed for only a second before the window opened, and the smell of newly-baked sesame buns filtered through.

It was the woman and a much taller, much more masculine man. He was practically a giant, reminding Marinette of a certain member of the League that she used to know. They were both smiling.

“My wife figured you would be more open to an exchange than just giving up the bracelet for free,” the man’s voice was deep and inviting. “You can eat as many buns as your stomach can handle, if you give it back.”

Marinette accepted. Mostly because of her fear for people who could track her to her home so easily, when she had been certain she had not been followed. The League has tuned her senses well, there was no way the couple had been close enough to see her when she made it to her apartment. Yet they were still there somehow. Then, it also had to do with the promise of food, and the heavenly smell of the food itself. And then, lastly, Marinette was tired. She didn’t like stealing, it was just a necessity. She would not hurt these people over a mere bracelet that she wished she didn’t have to take in the first place.

Useless, she thought. So much of a bleeding heart that she just gave up what could have paid for two months rent. Too soft to even protect herself. The Al-Ghuls has been right. She was a waste of space and time.

Marinette was ten years old when she became a Dupain-Cheng. Somehow, that strange, dangerous couple had become her new family. Not even she knew how. But she was grateful— they took her back to Paris with them and she didn’t have to worry about rent, or food, or money anymore.

She vowed, that day that she received her spacious attic bedroom, that she would repay them. She would make herself useful, for the first time in her life. She would stay out of their way, be the perfect most unobtrusive daughter ever. She would help in the bakery, keep a smile on her face so that they never doubted that they were doing a good job. So that they never wasted time worrying about her. She smiled, and laughed, and became successful for them. Competent and reliable even though her memories would sink into her dreams every day and make it near impossible to drag herself out of bed in the mornings.

And then, when Marinette Dupain-Cheng was thirteen, she was given a pair of magical earrings and a tiny fairy-god. And Tikki was thorough, at least. Diligent in her explanation. Marinette listened to every word, dread seeping in as she doubted her ability to carry out such an important task. Save a city? Defeat someone much more experienced and magically powerful than her?

Useless little Maria could never. Slightly less useless Marinette could never.

She was only ever meant to play a support role. Stay on the background and make everyone else shine, without ever succeeding in anything worth noting. That was who she was.

But then Tikki gave her the Warning. The catch that came with the Ladybug abilities, and Marinette felt the long-rusted determination in her begin to fire up again. Maybe she could be Ladybug. Maybe she could be useful, at least this once. At least for just this one scenario. She could fight and win the war against Hawkmoth, and that achievement alone could make her happy. Let her die knowing she did something worthwhile.

—*—*—*—*—*

Damian Wayne was seventeen when he and his family found out about the Paris Situation, and immediately went over to offer help. Damian Wayne was seventeen when he watched Ladybug stumble at the sight of him, and immediately run away. But the two of them were twins, and though twin telepathy might be a myth they always did have a certain instinct when it came to one another.

Damian Wayne was Seventeen when he said, aloud on the top of a random Parisian building and surrounded by his family—

“My sister is Ladybug.”

Damian didn’t wait for their reactions, having entirely forgotten about the existence of his father and brothers, before taking off after his spotted sibling.

—*—*—*—*—*

“I knew you were alive.”

In hindsight, those probably weren’t the best words for him to say when Maria clearly thought he was still an assassin.

Damian watched as Marinette spun to face him, her face so much more expressive than he remembered. He could actually see the resignation in the slump in her shoulders, he could feel the fear in her bluebell eyes. The eyes she was lucky enough to get from their father while he was cursed with their mother’s green irises. He used to envy that about her, especially after joining the BatClan. But now he only felt comfort when he looked into her eyes. Comfort that she was different than him, and always had been. In the best of ways.

He watched as his sister was enveloped by a bright flash of pink light, detransforming right in front of him. And without the mask, it was impossible to ignore the relation between them. She had their father’s eyes and nose where he had their mother’s, but other than that they were almost carbon copies of one another. Her blue-black hair was pulled back into twin braids though, something he noted distantly as oddly fitting. They suited her, he thought.

But all those thoughts instantly turned to dust as she dropped to her knees in front of him, head bowed in complete submission.

“Tom and Sabine are innocent,” she told him. “They adopted me out of nothing but goodwill, and they have been nothing but good to me. I never told them a single word about my origin, I swear it on our blood. They think I am just an orphan that was abandoned in Hong Kong—“

“Maria—“

“—so please, don’t harm them. I’m begging you. And there is no need for you to waste energy killing me. You are welcome to stay in Paris as long as no harm comes to Tom and Sabine, but just wait and watch. I know who Hawkmoth is, and our final plan is almost ready. I’ll have him taken down by next week. Just— wait until then, please. My death will take care of itself afterwards, but Paris deserves to be free, and killing me now will set this entire war against Hawkmoth back by at least a year. And I also need that time to pick my successor—“

“Maria! I am not here to kill you!” Damian had to yell to get her to stop babbling and begging. She froze, but didn’t dare to sit up or even raise her head. So Damian took the initiative and sat down on the ground with her, though he kept his distance so that he didn’t scare her too badly. He couldn’t blame her for her reaction, it had been ten years since they had seen one another and their parting hadn’t exactly been pleasant.

But he had changed a lot since then, matured a lot.

“I am completely disconnected from the League,” he admitted. Of the blurry memories he had of her, he did remember that being blunt was the best way to handle information with her. Beating around the bush had always done nothing but make her exceptionally nervous and jittery. Sure enough, his admission was enough to make her look up at him with disbelieving eyes. He risked a small grin. “I didn’t come in my old uniform, did I?” He gestured to himself in the bright Robin colors. Sure enough, Marinette’s rapid blinking proved his theory that she hadn’t even registered his clothing at all to be true. She had run as soon as she recognized his face.

But Marinette did not speak. She sat up a little, still eyeing him cautiously. But her silence helped him finally realize where they were— where she had led him.

The sounds of traffic and other big city noises were all muted, as if muffled by several layers of cloth. Shadows fell over them abundantly, and they were surrounded by dilapidated concrete walls.

She had brought him to an abandoned area far from any activity, where a body would take ages to find. She had then disarmed herself of her only weapon, her magic suit, and had gotten on the ground in total submission.

She had purposely given him the perfect setting to kill her, where there would be no witnesses and plenty of time before her body would be found for him to escape. That realization hit Damian square the chest, leaving him breathless for a moment.

“I am not here to kill anybody,” he reiterated, his voice noticeably much gentler than before. “Not you, not you adoptive parents, nobody. I left the league when I was eleven. Mother—“ he took a breath, but Maria deserved to know. “— she cloned me. Her clone killed me. He no longer exists, but that is of no consequence. She killed me, she and Grandfather disowned me when I made it clear I was not returning. Father— our father,” he was insistent as he leaned forward, not continuing until she met his gaze. “You remember who our father is, right? Bruce Wayne? Mother had dropped me off to be raised with him when I was ten, but of course it was all just one of her plots. It was her miscalculation though, because I ended up growing close to them. To Father and his adopted children. You would get along with Gra— with Dick, the best I think. Although T— Jason would also be a prime contender as your favorite brother, I think. He shares your love of motor bikes, if that hasn’t changed?” She just stared at him, clearly confused and experiencing a lot of feelings at once. He stayed silent for a moment to allow her to sort through them a little.

“I’m Robin now,” he made his voice quieter, but still easy for her to hear. “I’m a member of the Bats. I’m sure they would all welcome you, if you chose to meet them. Though be warned, they can be quite in—“

“Why are you doing this?” Marinette’s voice was barely above a whisper, Damian almost didn’t hear her. But he did, and fell silent. He watched as his sister licked her lips and tried to find the right words to say. “If what you say is true… you have a perfectly good family. Brothers, Father, a comfortable life. Why follow me then? Why offer me… any of that?”

Damian frowned. He didn’t remember Maria being so gloomy, but then again she had been raised to never show her emotions. Maybe, after years away from the temple like him, her true feelings were just easier for him to see now. Closer to the surface.

“I want to get to know you— to get to know my sister, again,” he told her. “Don’t tell them, but Father and the others have taught me to appreciate family. The way I treated you when we were children was not right, and though it was heavily influenced by Mother and Grandfather, I want to make up for it nonetheless. Maybe we can get to know the new us, together?”

Marinette’s eyes went wide with disbelief, but then she clenched her jaw and shook her head.

“We can’t.”

“... right, I understand if you do not forgive me. I didn’t even consider—“

“It isn’t that,” Marinette was quick to correct him. “When I said that my death will handle itself, I mean it, Damian. The Ladybug… the earrings that give me my powers, come with a price,” she absently ran her fingertips over the unassuming black studs in her ears. “If a Ladybug uses the miraculous for more than three years, the powers of Creation will demand to be balanced. Already, the Miraculous is powering itself on nothing but my life force now. Once I defeat Hawkmoth, there will be no need for Ladybug anymore. The moment I take the earrings off, they will cease keeping me alive.”

Damian’s face fell. No— no, that wasn’t right. He was finally able to find her, finally able to apologize and try to fix his past mistakes. This couldn’t be how the reunion went. This couldn’t—

“Not even the Lazarus Pits can bring me back from a Miraculous death,” Marinette went on. “So you and your family should go. You don’t need to be here when I—“ Marinette paused, gasping. “Damian, why are you crying?! Stop that!” Her voice became desperate, Marinette crawling over to him as quickly as she could and wiping away his tears as if they were something terrifying. Damian wasn’t sobbing or making any noise, it was just a silent stream of tears running down both cheeks as he stared at her wordlessly.

“I…” he finally managed to choke out. “I wanted to make up for everything. I wanted for us to be twins again, together.”

Marinette paused, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “I know a magic user who can erase your memories of me,” she offered. “But you don’t have to feel guilty for anything. You never said anything that wasn’t true.”

Damian’s green eyes widened. He had said nothing but cruel things to her, that last year they spent together as children. Did she really believe all of that? Did he and their childhood really affect her self worth this severely and irreversibly?

“Maria—“

“My name is Marinette, actually,” she corrected him with a small smile. “I’m not Maria Al-Ghul anymore. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is actually useful, Damian. I can actually do things right— I’m doing something right right now. Beating Hawkmoth will be the first worthwhile thing I’ve ever done, don’t you see? Once it’s all over, I will have brought honor back to our blood. I’ll have proved to you that I really am your twin, that I wasn’t a mistake. That I was born for a reason,” Marinette’s eyes got dreamy even as Damian just felt like he was impaled again, this time by a spike of ice rather than a sword. “And I’ll be able to die before I ruin it. It’s a perfect scenario.”

“A perfect scenario implies that nothing important is going to be lost,” Damian breathed. Marinette just blinked.

“Yeah, I know. That’s the plan. Defeat Hawkmoth, save Paris, and nobody dies.”

“But you’re going to die!” He growled. Marinette leaned back, bewildered by his violent reaction.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I actually matter. Nobody needs me. Tom and Sabine might be hurt for a while, but they will recover just fine. And it’s not like I have friends or any—“

“Stop worrying about other people, damnit!” Damian surged forward, grabbing her shoulders hard enough to bruise and shaking her a little. “Even back then! Even when we were seven, you threw down your blades because you were more worried about hurting me than you were about how Grandfather would react, even though you knew he would be tempted to kill you for what he thought was cowardice! You never put yourself first, and it’s finally starting to piss me off!”

“Damian—“

“No, listen to me!” He shook her again, his tear stained cheeks only making his glare all the more potent as he stared right into her eyes. “You are alive, and your life matters! You were never worthless or useless, you just didn’t fit what our abusive situation wanted of you. They wanted a cold hearted killer, a tool they could use, and you were always too warm hearted and clever to fit either of those goals. But I did, I was the killer they were looking for and the pawn they wanted. If anything, that makes you better than I ever was! I was too young and naive to see it back then, but I’m trying to make up for it now. You are my sister, whether you go by Maria or Marinette, Al-Ghul or Wayne or Dupain-Cheng, I don’t give a damn! And so help me, even if I have to surgically attach those earrings to your skin, I am not letting you die before you gain at least a modicum of respect for yourself. Do you understand me?”

A wet sniffle met his ears, and he pulled Marinette in for a hug. She returned it weakly, sniveling and sobbing into his cape.

“D-d-Damian?”

“Yes, Shaqiqa?”

Another sniffle.

“I-is it really o-okay for me to stay with you?”

“Of course.”

“I-is… is it really oka-ay for… for me to live?”

Damian’s arms tightened around her. “Always. Always, always.”

Marinette buried her face into his shoulder, taking a deep shuddering breath.

“Th-then… I wanna try.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Not sorry. Ha 😎

#mlb x dc #maribat #platonic daminette #bio!dad au #Bio!Dad Bruce Wayne #sibling Daminette #angst #heavy angst #hurt no comfort #or very little comfort anyway #ml x dc #platonic brucinette #twin AU

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alyssadeliv · 4 years

Text

The Forgotten One

First Previous

Chapter 3

Damian Al Ghul is the most beautiful baby Marianne has ever seen. Not that she’s seen a lot of newborns, but something inside of her knew no one would be as cute as her little brother. He was very tiny and that only encouraged her more than ever to protect him. Her mother thought it adorable, that if not training she was always at his side. Her grandfather thought it useful, like a bodyguard to protect his so expected heir. As a baby, he couldn’t do much yet, but she liked his company. It was rewarding to see him staring at her with those beautiful green eyes when she talked to him about her day.

They grew up together, so it was only natural that they would train together. Marianne loved it when they would train or fight together, it was another excuse to be around her baby brother. Since birth, he has always been very bright, and very skillful. He’s only seven when he is allowed a solo mission, and she remembers how she begged her mother to allow her to accompany him, just to make sure he’ll be alright. The punishment she received from her grandfather was enough for her to never ask again. But as Damian had proved more than capable to handle every kind of situation thrown his way, she wasn’t so anxious anymore when he would leave for missions. But that didn’t mean she didn’t worry.

Her mother and the guardians became more strict with her training after Damian was born, focusing more on fighting techniques rather than the knowledge of the Kwamis, that part she was already very knowledgeable about. And because of that increase in her abilities, she was allowed to train with her brother, when he was about six. In the beginning, their fight was never fair, with more years of experience, Marianne had an advantage. But as the years passed by, and Damian learned, it became more equal. When they fought together they were formidable, the synchrony and the precision of their movements was something fascinating to behold. You would think that because of their strong bond it would be difficult to actually hurt each other in a fight, but together they were ruthless, always pushing the other. They brought out the better in each other. Marianne could proudly say she taught Damian a lot, especially in the art of diversion and dagger fighting.

Living in the League meant that you could never be too careful, and trust was something it had to be earned. Relations were discouraged because they tended to make you weak. But for the siblings, having each other was their strength.

Even if both had their own room, it was common to find Damian sneaking to bunk with his sister or Marianne simply crashing at her brother’s bed after a taxing day of lessons. To everyone in the League, they didn’t have contact outside of training, and her grandfather made sure of that. He liked to call her his secret weapon, one that only his most trusted followers knew about. Being a very paranoid person, that trust revolved around 3 people, her mother, Sabine, and Master Fu. And she was sure that her master only knew about her because it was what created their alliance in the first place.

Like her, Damian wasn’t much better in the social department. He didn’t interact with kids his age, and all of his time was dedicated to perfect his skills. She was his one and only friends, but just like her, he wasn’t very good with words, yet she knew he adored her just as much as she did him. She was the heir to the Order of the Guardian and he the heir to the League of Assassins. They had duties to fulfill, expectations to reach, and people to please. It was hard, but at least they had each other.

Until they hadn’t.

She was sixteen and had just come from a long mission, all she wanted was to take a shower and curl into bed. This mission had been more taxing than normal, she was successful but it still took a lot from her. Ignoring her primal needs she made her way to the training grounds of the League, looking for her Master, to give him the mission report.

“Master” She greeted. Wang Fu had taught her so much, but she could see very clearly that her teacher was flawed. Even after years in this life, he had a very kind heart. He tended to be a very recluse, only interacting with people from the Order or the League if he had to. She was the only exception to this, from the years of training with him, she knew he had a soft spot for her. Most of the time he acted very naively, and that still bothers her thus this day. But where he was kind he was also very strict with her training. That’s why she always pushed herself, to prove to him that she was worthy of her birthright, to be the true wielder of a Miraculous.

It was already dark, and the League was quiet. Only the ones on duty would be awake, but it was common to find her Master meditating at all hours of the day at the Temple of the Miraculous. The temple was built by the order of her grandfather as a sign of good faith after the alliance between the two organizations was created, she spent most of her childhood there, reading the sacred tomes and connecting with her inner self.

“How was it?”

“Successful as always. I infiltrated the party without any problem and locating my target was easy. The tricky part was luring him out of the crowd. But I managed. Using the Chinese hairpin I infused the poison in his bloodstream, he was dead in a matter of minutes. The poison won’t leave any possible leads, and I obtained the information requested. I shall pass it to Grandfather at our morning meeting, he requested that you be present as well”

“Any witness?”

“No.”

“Very well… Go ahead and get some sleep. Tomorrow after our meeting you will be having another section of training with Lady Shiva, she was very pleased with your recent development.”

She bowed respectfully and started to make her way to the chambers. She could feel the sleep piercing through her, but she pushed it aside, she needed a bath before even thinking of going to bed.

She made it to the west wing of the League, where Damian opened the door after only two knocks, still in his sleeping clothes. At that time, she was the only one that would seek him out. He let her in without a word, and she immediately made her way into his bathroom. Being the Heir to the League comes with its perks. His room was bigger than hers and he had a bathroom all to himself. Compared to his room hers was rather simple, with a bed in the middle, a dresser, and a table with a chair. The Arabic aesthetic gave a stylish decoration to the plain room. His was more majestic, with a big bed with the most comfortable comforter she ever laid in and very well decorated. Only the best to the grandfather’s grandson.

She stripped and laid her weapons carefully on the counter. With empty thoughts, she enjoyed the warmth of the water on her skin, and only after washing her hair twice, she turned it off. Sometime during her shower, her brother had delivered some of her clothes. Because they alternated between their rooms, it was practical to just leave a couple of clothes in each other’s chambers, that way no matter when, they would always have something to wear. She left the bathroom only carrying two of her daggers, even in the comfort of her brother’s bedroom, she could never let her guards down. He was laying on the mattress, half-asleep, just waiting for her. As she neared the bed he lifted the covers to let her in. And as she laid there at his side, feeling the heat of his body near her, with one dagger on the side table and the other under her pillow, she felt at peace.

The peace was short-lived, however. She couldn’t tell for sure how long she had been asleep, but enough for her brain to be foggy. She bolted awake feeling another presence in the room. In one fluid movement, she grabbed her trusty dagger and went into action. She hit her target in one fluid movement.

“What’s going on?” Damian was also awake, with a sword in hand, staring wide-eyed at the body laid on the floor.

“Get ready.” And with that they both started to prepare themself, gathering their weapons and changing into more appropriate clothes. In a matter of minutes, they were ready. Before they exit the bedroom, she turns to her brother.

“Take it.” She hands him one of her daggers. It’s from a set, her favorite. It was a birthday present from Damian. Two handmade daggers, one was white and the other was black, it had the Yin and Yang symbols carved in the handle. Representing the balance between creation and destruction. It was perfect for close attacks and throwing. He takes the black one without a fight, by now he understands the seriousness of the situation. With caution, they left the chambers. Now they could hear fighting happening in the background. She knew what she had to do, go to the temple, access information and from then try to create a strategic plan. Damian would come with her, without knowing what was going on, it was safer to continue together.

They reach the temple without any problem, but there’s when things got problematic. A group of three people advances on them, two men and one woman all wearing black and covering their faces. She immediately goes into attack mode. Diving from the oncoming sword, puncturing the man tight as he attacked her, she analyzes the situation, his wound which does little to stop him is heavily bleeding. Because of her size, she could tell he was underestimating her, so she used that in her advance. She let him come closer, giving him a false sense of security, allowing him to believe her to be inexperienced. His sword makes contact with her left arm, and a red flow of blood makes itself known. Following her plan, when he comes close enough she grabs onto his torso and using his body weight throws him onto the floor over her shoulder. Once he’s down she reaches the dagger strapped onto her thigh and stabs onto his chest. Immediately turning her attention to the other two attackers that went after Damian she throws the dagger at the back of the woman, momentarily distracting her brother’s opponent. Grave mistake. Damian disposes of him quickly after that. After getting back her weapon, they keep their pace.

Now they could see various members of the Order and the League fighting different opponents. The floor is coated in red, and in the distance, it is possible to see the beginning of some fires. Seeing her home being destroyed broke her heart but there was no time to grieve. On high alert, they arrived at the temple. They meet another group of black figures, not even thinking she immediately engages one of them.

She can’t tell how long that has been going on, she lost sight of Damian and their enemies just kept coming, there is no sign of Master Fu or the Miraculous Box, so she can only assume that he escaped without any problems. The other guardians are by her side, trying to overpower the attackers. In the distance, some explosions begin, shaking the foundation of the temple. Some stones start to fall, and immediately their opponents start to evacuate mid-fight. Based on that it is not difficult to reach a conclusion. Their target was the Order, they obviously planned to explode it to the ground.

“It’s a trap! We have to leave the Temple, it’s going to crash!” With no hesitation she starts looking for Damian, she needs to find him and get him somewhere safe. It’s pandemonium, people running and screaming orders. Some bleeding and some already dead. It’s practically impossible to see with the smoke that found its way in.

When she finally finds her brother, it’s almost too late, by now a lot of the foundation it’s destroyed, and they would be lucky if they get out in time. They start running, Damian ahead of her. They were almost at the entrance but something in her, maybe her instincts told her that they would not make it. Using the rest of her energy, she focuses on her inner strength, gathering a bit of magic in the palm of her hand. With one fluid movement, she pushes all she has into her brother.

The impact of her magic sends him flying out of the building, into safety, just in time to miss the pieces of the temple falling down.

“MARIANNE!”

It's the last thing she hears before she feels the weights falling onto her body. For some minutes she feels everything, the burning pain in every inch of her body and the shallow movements of her chest.

But for the moment that didn’t matter, she was tired, and she knew she could rest knowing her brother was safe.

“Ahbk ya akhi”

Hope you liked this new chapter, it was a bit longer than usual. I’m not very good at writting about fights, but I hope it wasn’t terrible. Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!

Taglist: @macncheesemonster @jumpingjoy82 @silversaphire12 @jinx-jade @swiftie-miraculer13 @greatcatblaze @megaafangirl @ramos123 @theamityislife @maskedpainter @toodaloo-kangaroo @nyx-in-line @ketchupqueenboiiii @iamabrownfox @lozzybowe @user00000003 @kashlyn @msshadows97 @ira-sairain @stackofrandomstuff @myazael @frieddonutsweets @asrainterstellar @our-preciousss @laurcad123 @nyaabinch @rverfades

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uncpanda · 4 years

Text

Blood is Thicker Than Water: Part 12

AN: When it comes to the timeline, I say screw it. It’s more fun to re-arrange stuff. Also, I secretly call this chapter turning point and big steps.

Big shout out to those who helped with the Spanish in the chapter! It meant I didn’t have to use google translate. I’m very grateful for their help in the picking out phrases, terms of endearment, and their opinions. You guys rock!

Please Let Me Know What YOU THINK!!!

Master List

You’re in the middle of cooking dinner, or to be more accurate Rafael is in the middle of cooking dinner. Benny is sitting beside his feet, and his tail is going a hundred miles an hour. You watch as Rafa sneaks him little pieces of meat. It’s possibly the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.

You take a sip of your wine, “So, what I’m hearing is it was a bad case from the start.”

Rafa shrugs, “Whenever someone cries free speech in conjunction to rape you know it isn’t going to be pretty. I just can’t believe the girl had it in her to go film him. I have to admit, the look on Rita’s face when she saw the video . . . it was like Christmas.”

You roll your eyes, “She’s your friend Rafa.”

He steps away from the sauce he’s making long enough to kiss you, “True, which is why I told her we’d go out to dinner with her and Brian next week.”

“Are we hosting or going out?”

“Out. Some new restaurant Rita wants to try. She said it was her treat so I wasn’t in a place to argue. I plan to order the most expensive scotch they have.”

You giggle, and kiss him again only for Benny to bark. Rafa turns towards your dog, “What? Are you still hungry? No eres un perro, eres un cerdo.” Benny runs towards him and bumps his head against Rafa’s leg. Immediately your boyfriend crouches down to pet him, "Un cerdito muy mono." He looks up at you, “I found a place online that makes these really cute bandanas and bow ties.”

He says the words as though he’s looking for penance and you laugh, “How many did you buy?”

He groans, “Like five, they had a deal, and I couldn’t resist. At this rate the dog is going to make me go broke.”

He stands up and goes back to cooking, and Benny goes to you. You kneel down next to your dog and love on him. In the three weeks that you had had Benny, you’d fallen massively in love with him. So had Rafa. The two of you made it a point to take him on walks together, and Rafa even had a framed photo of the three of you in his office now, and the background on his phone was a picture of you and Benny. The entire thing was terribly domestic and you couldn’t help but love it.

“I got a call from my Abuelita yesterday.”

Your head snaps up, at that. Despite having been together for seven months you had yet to meet any of Rafael’s family. His mother and his entire community in the Bronx were still giving him the cold shoulder over the whole Alex fiasco. Only his grandmother had stayed in touch. In fact he talked on the phone with her at least four times a week.

“How is she?”

“She has a cold, but says she’s fine. She says that the only way she could feel better is if she finally got to meet you.”

You grin, “Really? That’s so sweet.”

“Manipulative. The word you’re looking for is manipulative. It’s the classic abuelita guilt trip.”

“And you’re the dutiful grandson who is going to give into it.”

“This is true. If it’s okay with you, I was going to pick her up and have her spend the weekend with us.”

“Will she have a problem with me staying the night, sleeping in your bed?”

“She’s a realist. And if there’s a chance that you and I end up married with a bunch of babies, she’ll do anything to make that happen. And in her eyes, Benny is a good sign of things to come.”

You just laugh, “Well it seems more than fair to me. I mean you’ve known Liv since day one, so. . .”

“I’ll set it up then.”

Before you can tell him how excited you are, the front door opens and a very frantic Liv and Ed enter. Benny, the loveable goofball that he is, goes straight to them. Your sister walks right past him, and Rafa shoots a glare her way, “Pet the dog, he’s happy to see you.”

She shoots a glare back at him, “Not a good time Barba.”

“I’m standing here, in your kitchen, making dinner for everyone. How is this not a good time?”

“Because Ed and I may have done something impulsive.”

You look over at Ed who currently has Benny climbing all over him, “It’s fast, not impulsive.”

Your brow furrows, “What the hell did you do?”

Your sister looks at you, opens her mouth and then closes it, “We did several things. Try to not be mad.”

You watch Rafa turn the dials on the stove to simmer, and then your eyes flick back to your sister, “Liv, you’re scaring me.”

“Ed and I got married.”

You’re not able to find the words but Rafa sure does, “What?”

Ed clears his throat, “We’re not done yet.”

“We agreed to foster a baby. At the end of one year if no living relatives can be found we can formally adopt him. We got married, because it’s something we want, but we did it quickly because it strengthens the home environment, and made our case worker stop glaring at us.”

You still can’t find the words, but your boyfriend has never had that problem, “Is this the baby from the trafficking case, Noah?”

Liv nods, a smile on her face, “Ed and I have been going to his hearings for custody and the like. Judge Linden proposed the idea.”

Ed smiles, “We didn’t hesitate.”

Your mind is going a million miles a moment, “When does he come home?”

“A few days, the case worker has to come inspect everything.”

You nod, “We’re going to need a bunch of stuff. You two go change, put the guns in the safe, cause we’re going to have to go hit the baby stores now. I’m going to help Rafa put the food in containers.”

They don’t hesitate, and the moment they disappear into Liv’s room, Rafa’s arms are around you, “Are you okay?”

“I think so. A little surprised, but not really. Liv always said that if she ever got married she’d elope, but I always thought I’d be there.”

His fingers comb through your hair and you lean into the touch, “It’s alright to be upset.”

“I’m okay. Right now I’ll focus on the fact that I’m getting a nephew.

He places a kiss at the top of your head, “Okay. But if you want to talk, just let me know.” He looks over at the food, “Recalentado no está tan rico.”

Liv and Ed come out a minute later, you put Benny in your room, and the four of you head out. You arrive at a baby store, and you link your arm with Rafael’s. You look at the price tag and feel your eyes go big at the prices. You turn to Rafa, “Babies are expensive.”

He looks at the tag, and shrugs, “That’s not too bad.”

“Exactly, how much are you paid?”

“Esas cosas no se dicen.”

You spend hours in the store while Olivia and Ed look up reviews online before adding anything to their cart. About three hours in you turn to Raf and say, “It’s like watching you buy stuff for Benny.”

He shoots a look at you, “Eso no es divertido.”

You grin, and then something catches your eye. You move towards a little gray elephant. He’s soft to the touch, and you can’t help but think he’d be the perfect companion for your nephew.

When you’re finally done, it takes four cabs to get everything back to the apartment, and several trips up and down the stairs. When that’s said and done you and Rafa collapse on the couch. After a minute he collapses face down so that his head is in your lap.

“This better be one awesome baby.”

You chuckle and run your fingers through his hair and sigh, “I’m going to have to find a new place to live.”

Rafa sits up, “What?”

You motion to all the baby stuff that is filling every spare inch of the apartment, “Where are they going to put a baby? They’re going to need my room for a nursery Rafa, and I don’t really feel like sharing a room with a baby just yet.”

“And where are you going to go?”

You shrug, “I’ll find a place.”

“Or. . .”

“Or?”

“You could move in with me.”

You blink owlishly at your boyfriend, “Seriously?”

He smiles, and punctuates each reason with a kiss, "You spend most nights at my place anyways. I like having you around. I like waking up next to you, and coming home to you, and falling asleep with you next to me. Además, me será más fácil hacer esto.” He kisses you long and slow.

“Are you trying to romance me Mr. Barba?”

He kisses that spot on your neck that you like and you giggle, “Siempre mi amor.”

“I would love to move in with you.”

He pulls you into his lap, and you squeal, “Bien.”

----

The next day you break the news to a horrified Liv. You realize the situation didn’t even dawn on her until you mentioned it. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about that. I feel so bad.”

You wave off her concerns, “It’s not a big deal Liv.”

She takes your hand, “In the span of twenty four hours, I’ve gotten married, taken in a baby, and forced you out of your home. I may be the worst sister ever.”

“You’re not the worst sister ever, I can guarentee it. You are however, scatterbrained.”

Yes your life had been disrupted and yes, you wish you had been there when your sister had gotten married, but. . . “Weddings have never been your thing. You hated any movie that centered around them. I always knew if you found the right guy you wouldn’t have a wedding, I just always figured I’d be there.”

She bites her lip, “You should have been there. I guess I got so caught up in everything, I wasn’t thinking.”

You lean forward, “Do you mind me asking what spurred this?”

She grins, “You did. After the negative pregnancy test, after you and I talked, I decided that I wanted a future with Ed, and we both wanted a family. We decided to start trying, and then . . .Noah fell into our laps. I’ve been with him since I found him. Ed went with me to visit him once, and he went every time since. Showed up to all the hearings with me. It was right. It feels . . .good. You don’t feel like I’m replacing you, do you?”

“I’m twenty eight Liv, I’m in a serious relationship, this is a good thing. I want to live with Rafa, I want you to have a family, and I want us to keep moving forward. I’m happy. Are you happy?”

She nods, “I’m so happy I can barely believe it.”

The two of you smile like loons, “Look at us, all grown up and living fully functional lives.”

Liv just laughs.

You spend the next two days packing up your things alongside Rafa. “You have more books than I do. I didn’t think that was possible.”

You smile, “I like to read.”

He has a teasing grin on his face, “Most of them are romance novels.”

You wrap your arms around his middle, “They’re a guilty pleasure.” You kiss him and nip at his bottom lip, “I haven’t read as many since we started dating if it’s any consolation.”

“As many?”

You wink at him, “You work a lot of late nights.” He laughs and continues to put the books in boxes. You move to your clothes next. You fold them neatly and place them in the boxes too. He’s surprised by how many pairs of shoes you have.

“You’re questioning my shoes. You have ties to match your socks and your suspenders.”

The laughing continues and you can’t help but think that with anyone else, packing up your life would be a chore. With Rafael it’s fun and easy. You decide to keep his bedroom furniture and put yours into storage. And being the wonderful man that he is, Rafael hires actual movers to get your stuff back to his apartment.

You give your empty room one last look and move on to the next chapter of your life.

#ada rafael barba #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba fanfiction #law and order svu #Law and Order: Special Victims Unit #law and order svu fanfiction #law and order svu imagine #svu #svu fanfic #law and order svu fanfic

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fic-pickyourpoison · 3 years

Note

Opps didn't attach picture. Again hope you like it. She looks like Senor Pink for some reason in this. Title is "Blood In The Water" after the song Blood//Water by grandson. Oh also I gave her earrings idk why just like them.

Oh wow-- I love this! Thank you so much, it's so pretty!!!

I love, love, love the bloodied hands and the angle of this shot. She looks so smug and in control. The Donquixote jolly roger in the background is also awsome.

She does kind of look like Senor in this-- my headcanon is that the glasses were given to Lami from Senor in the second art piece you drew for her, and Lami has been wearing them since.

I do have to say though, I thought her hair was cut short at first instead of the dual-tone and I was like "oh, how did they know 😲" because I've been drawing a lot of short-hair concept art lately LOL.

#ask #fan art #10/10 #i love it #i am weak

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red-talisman · 3 years

Text

I want to build a bigger fire to burn all the filth in this world.

a ghost valley master [playlist]

[Image descriptions: both images have a plain, pale pink background. The first shows a fair-skinned hand streaked with blood holding up a burning match. Black text says, "a bigger fire." The second image has small splotch of blood in the lower left-hand corner. Black text lists the playlist: nina tribus, "beneath my throne," billie eilish, "you should see me in a crown," rob dougan, "left me for dead," in this moment, "something in the air tonight," valen, "cold blood," grandson, "blood water," editors, "eat raw meat = blood drool," sub urban, "freak," sam tinnesz, "play with fire," gazelle twin, "men like gods, "aviators, "remains," poutyface, "deathwish," yorxe, "down with me," and milck, "monster." End image descriptions.]

#word of honor #shan he ling #wen kexing #priestnet #graphic design is my passion /sighs #thinking about wkx's surprisingly straightforward murder comments 24/7 over here #my graphics #this playlist kept trying to take me in some odd genre directions so i hope there's a sense of cohesion with this list for other brains too #i keep overthinking this so fuck it just take it away from me please

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avaritia-apotheosis · 3 years

Text

Phantom Children Ch. 3

In which: Danny getting yeeted into the Lazarus Pit yields anticlimactic consequences and Bruce Wayne converses with a fruit loop.

AO3 | Prologue | 2 | [ 3 ] | 4 |

DANIEL BARELY HAD TIME TO SCREAM before he’s plunged into the green depths of the Lazarus pit, primeval waves crashing against the walls of the pool. Talia flicked her wrist, signaling the ten League members hidden in the shadows to approach. Each one spaced equally apart around the pit with smoke pellets synthesized from blood blossoms held in their hands, ready to drop at a moment’s notice.

Pit madness rendered the majority of the living uncontrollable, with even the weakest of humans imbued with a strength that could only be induced by the purest of rage. The League was not taking chances as to how a being like her son would react to it.

The waters stilled.

Then—

A bright flash of light. Then, faster than the eyes could follow, a figure erupted from the waters. Bone white hair that twisted and curled as if it were still underwater. Skin lightly tinged frostbitten blue and clad in a suit of black and white and shrouded in an aura of blinding light. Phantom appeared from the depths, floating above the pit like a god reborn.

His eyes burned a toxic green.

“What the fuck was that?”

But not pit madness green.

Talia ordered her assassins to at ease with a raise of her hand. She slowly walked to her father’s side just as her son—Phantom—landed at the edge of the pool. Idly, Talia noticed how different Phantom seemed in comparison to her son. Physical attributes aside, Daniel tended to make himself smaller. What venom that may coat his words and the vitriol in his glares dampened by the way he held himself. Shoulders hunched and head tilted down. Non-threatening. Hands always needing to do something, whether it be holding his arms or shoved inside his pockets or constantly brushing it through his hair. No matter how she and his instructors taught him how to hold himself like a warrior, like a soldier, he still tended to present himself as a skittering little animal.

Phantom was different. He squared his soldiers and lifted his chin high, unafraid to stretch out to his fullest height and use his defiance of gravity to make himself look bigger. Stronger. His arms held steady at his sides, curled into tight fists. Green eyes—green as the Lazarus pit yet without that spark of madness that so consumed everyone else—burning with righteous fury.

“You fucking threw me into the weird green pool. What even—who does that?”

Ra’s tilted his head. “Fascinating. It seems you have a resistance to the pit madness.”

Phantom blinked, caught off guard. “Pit…madness,” he echoed. A statement, though from the wrinkle in his brows and the look he shoots Talia, it was more a question than anything else.

“It is one of the side effects of the Lazarus pits.” Talia approached her son with caution, holding his face with both hands and inspecting for any differences. “While the waters rejuvenate, restore, and even temporarily imbue one with supernatural strength, it also tends to inflict users with temporary insanity.”

“Insanity?” His eyes widened, trembling hands coming up to hold her wrists. Strangely, Daniel did not pull away from her touch. “I could have gone insane?”

Those bright eyes of his looked so frightened. Haunted. Pupils dilated to mere pinpricks of blackness, lost in a sea of Lazarus green. “Oh habeebi, only temporarily.”

“Like that’s better!” He yelled. “Even temporarily, I’m—” He staggered back, breaking out of her hold. Harmless Danny Fenton bleeding into proud Phantom as he ran his hands through his hair, unwilling to look at anyone.

Ra’s continued to watch, his arms crossed beneath his sternum, muttering to himself. Her father had prided himself on being one of the most knowledgeable about the Lazarus pits and its effects. Now, faced with a new mystery, the scholar within the Demon’s Head emerged as he observed his grandson.

“No,” Ra’s said, mostly to himself. “Perhaps less of a ‘resistance’ and more of an ‘immunity’ to it, given how both Daniel and the Lazarus pit have similar compositions. It would be a fascinating tangent to follow.” He chuckled to himself. “How droll. The life-restoring Lazarus pit holding a connection to the land of the dead.”

Talia turned to her father. “So, Daniel will not feel any of the pit’s side effects, then?”

Daniel perked up at the sound of his name, halting in his pacing. “I…might not go insane?”

“Perhaps, though it is too soon to tell. You have the waters of the Lazarus pit flowing through your veins, Daniel.” Ra’s smiled; eyes gleaming with the sparks of pride. “You and it are made of the same chemicals, the same reality-defying compounds that can bring the dead back to life.”

“Well, great. I have the same chemical makeup as a glowing hot tub, what else is new—” Her son staggered, and she caught him. Impossibly bright rings formed at his abdomen and then split, transforming Phantom back into a human. Mortal. His face haggard and sweating from the temples, eyes back to her beloved’s pale blues.

Her father did not bat an eye. “The pit’s healing effects are slowed down, then? Or perhaps it is because he has no wounds to heal?” Ra’s hummed; chin cradled in his hand. “Set him back into the pits, Talia. I believe young Daniel has yet to absorb all his needed energy.”

“Sure, yeah, that’s fine. Put me back in the crazy water, why not?” Daniel tugged at her shoulders. “Just…gently, please?”

Talia smoothed down his dark hair with a smile. “Of course, habeebi. I will even stay with you as well.”

When he looked at her, it was something almost akin to gratefulness.

------

In Gotham City, the upper echelons of society gather together at the Gotham Expo Center. The shining halls, which had been used as the site of a week-long exhibition of new scientific research, was reoutfitted to serve as the venue for the exhibition’s final event.

A gala. The hunting ground of the nouveau riche and old money families. Corporate moguls and debutants made their rounds across the floor, chatting with heirs and politicians and the who’s who of the upper class.

Scientists and researchers attempted to step out of their shells and dazzle the crowds. Wanting to fish a willing patron with deep pockets to fund their next project. Reporters huddled together like schools of fish, warily approaching the predators in their midst for a question or a photo. Both things many of the wealthy and affluent are easily ready to give, as long as it only showed off their best side in tomorrow’s society papers.

Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, and society’s darling observed everything as he always did, in that most people believed he barely noticed anything beyond what’s right in front of him. He raised the flute glass of champagne to his lips, pretending to take a sip as he listened to the chatter of sycophants around him. A few were even some promising researchers of which he made a mental note to pass along to Lucius.

Two nights ago, Bruce received a tip of unusual movements from the League of Assassins. The organization had been quiet as of late, and while Bruce had been very carefully monitoring their activities in the background, the sudden tightening of their security prompted him to take a closer look.

There had been sightings of the League of Assassins centered around a small town in Illinois—Amity Park. A rural tourist trap championing itself as the most haunted place in America. Something that Bruce would normally scoff at or zealously research about if not for John Constantine’s warning to “never go within a ten-mile radius of that hellhole.” With similar sentiments from others in the occult community, the Justice League decided to take that warning to heart. Bruce’s curiosity may have been piqued, but even he was tactful enough to avoid courting more trouble.

Suffice to say, Bruce—and especially Batman—could not afford to ignore Ra’s al Ghul’s movements. Whatever his plans were involved whatever anomalies were going on in Amity Park. And wasn’t it simply serendipitous that one of the guest lists for tonight’s gala was Vlad Masters, the mayor of Amity Park?

“Vlad Masters, is that you?” Bruce, slapping on his signature Brucie smile, masterfully detached himself from his previous group, quickly heading towards the nearby bar where he spotted Vlad getting another drink.

“Why, Bruce Wayne, it’s been so long!” The two shook hands, of which Bruce was slightly surprised at how cold to the touch Vlad was. A health condition, perhaps. Then again, there was something in Vlad’s appearance and stature that spoke of a deeper reason.

“It’s been, what, two years? What brings you to Gotham?”

“Business; the usual really.” Despite whatever friendly aura they’re projecting, Bruce Wayne and Vlad Masters weren’t friends. More acquaintances that have been forced to mingle a few times because of the nature of their business and the demands of high society. From what Bruce knows, Vlad is a business tycoon that’s as blindingly charismatic as he was infamous for his quick rise to wealth and a few rather shady dealings.

Bruce stuck his hand in his pocket. “Well Vlad, last we all heard was you dipping your toes into politics. You’re a, uh, what, a governor?”

Vlad let out an obviously fake chuckle. “Oh nothing as grand as that. I’m only a small-town mayor, really.”

“Right!” Bruce snapped his fingers. “So, what’s that like?”

“Oh dreadful work, really. So much paperwork, so many things to do or oversee, but rewarding in its own way.” He puffed out his chest. “Many of the people in Amity Park do rely on me, you know. Though I’m afraid my schedule’s busy enough that I barely have time to go home!”

“Well, we’re very happy that you made room enough to visit us here in Gotham.”

Bruce sensed Damian coming to stand beside him and instinctually placed a hand around his shoulder. Though his youngest had been steadily adjusting to his new life here in Gotham, he still preferred to stick to his father’s shadow than mingle with those of his own age groups at galas. (Then again, Bruce was very similar when he was younger so perhaps it was a genetic thing).

He smiled down at Damian—frowning as he’d rather be patrolling the streets in uniform as opposed to schmoozing with people he hardly cared about. “Have you met my son, Vlad? Damian, this is Vlad Masters, a business partner and a, uh—” He scrunched his face, pretending to remember what Vlad’s current occupation is. “Mayor of some small town out west.”

Bruce turned to look at Vlad, expecting to see some variation of ‘insulted but trying to keep up a polite façade’—only to freeze.

Vlad’s face paled considerably. His beady eyes comically wide as he looked at Damian, the fingers curled around the stem of his flute glass bone white. Damian, unnerved, steadied his stance but shifted minutely closer to Bruce.

Well, this was interesting. “You alright, Vlad? You looked like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

Vlad jerked his head towards Bruce. Surprise—and fear? —contorted his features for a brief moment before smoothed back down into a proper mask. “Mayor of Amity Park, yes. My apologies,” he chuckled. “Young—Damian, was it? —only reminded me of someone I knew once.” He shifted his gaze back to Damian. “The resemblance is actually quite uncanny.”

Damian furrowed his brows. “Amity Park?”

“You’ve heard of it, Damian?”

“I would be surprised if you did.” Vlad masters took a small ship of his champagne. “Then again, it should be expected that you might have heard of it. The town does love it’s ghosts.”

Bruce laughed. “What, like Casper?”

“Something like that, yes.” There’s a tightness to Vlad’s voice. “Amity Park is its own breed of strange. We’ve handled things well enough on our own in the past, and quite honestly you get used to all of the spooks eventually. Though I must say the shadows are quite new—I’d often ask myself if I should petition your city’s vigilante and put him on the case.

“Shadows?”

Vlad easy smile shifted into a faint grimace. “They have a rather nasty habit of snooping.”

------

Despite Bruce and Damian’s attempt at plying Vlad for more answers, Vlad kept his mouth shut, evading questions and changing topics skillfully. Something that only raised Bruce’s alarm that something was going on.

“So,” Bruce unbuttoned his suit as he stepped into the car, “How did you hear of Amity, Damian? Ghosts and ghouls don’t exactly seem like something you’d be interested in.”

He waited for Damian to buckle his seatbelt before shifting the Bentley into drive and pulling out of the Expo. They had stayed at the gala long enough, making their rounds and giving the media enough for a headline in the society pages.

Damian rested his hand against the window. His face scrunched as he watched the looming facades of Gotham’s architecture pass by. “Mother mentioned the name once or twice,” he said. “I was not…privy to every operation that happened in the League, so I don’t know anything despite that my grandfather took an interest in Amity.”

“And I’m sure that from Masters’ odd phrasing, Ra’s didn’t just magically lose that interest either.” He narrowed his eyes. “Contact Oracle and have her dig up everything we need to know about the situation in Amity Park. I think it’s time Batman made his introductions to some out-of-town guests.”

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #phantom children.txt

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ticci-toe-beans · 3 years

Text

A killer love story

Jeff the killer x Y/N

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Y/N POV

—————

The wind howled throughout the forest, the house groaned, and the fire crackled...

To be honest y/n wasn't even sure if this was real or just a hallucination but one thing was for sure they wanted to stay like this even as there bones grew old and flowers and vines swallowed them whole

How did y/n even get into this place, how did they even meet him

Like how all good story's start

Once upon a time...

——————————-

The light shined annoyingly through that one crack in the curtains that never fully closed all the way...

And of course I had to pull the short straw and get the shitty curtains.

Nothing in my life was inherently bad...just really annoying, my parents are fine we get paid ok and I get okayish grades.

Yeah I have friends but even that is debatable... they all just drain me and then I see them whispering to each other, it's honestly probably nothing but it doesn't help that icky feeling go away.

I never understood the saying "the straw that broke the camel's back" as a child but right now it's like putting my life into words

—————————————-

Y/n just sat there looking at there mirror seeing the clock in the background slowly tick and tick closer to when the alarm was set to go off.

They could never turn it off in time always a few seconds late to it.

The stupid alarm rang throughout the room as they sighed getting ready to go to school... specifically on Saturday

You see after getting accused of cheating along with them missing a lot of school days they had to do Saturday school, fun right...

————————————————-

My legs felt like fire as I walked to the high school. My shoulders uncomfortably holding the weight of the "why the hell do they give us so much books ow ow this hurts" backpack.

Even as I walked as fast as I can (which was not that fast but ok I am trying my best here) I barely get through the gates before the bell rang.

"Wow I'm so lucky that my moms car broke just a few days ago... yay"

I scowl to myself as I note that on Monday we have the dreaded mile, and that my legs will still be aching by Monday... if only I had taken PE last year I would have already have had my credits in for it.

But in the past you can only know so much about the future you... but I can still curse out my past self

Anyways putting aside my anger I made my way to the classroom at lest then I can have a break and get off my feet.

"Room 301 Miss, Ranxt... an interesting last name but I think this is the right room or at least it looks like it"

Honestly the last part was just a statement as it was obvious that is was the right one as kids poured into the classroom, but you can never be to sure I guess

I tried to calm myself down as the last time I got into trouble was in elementary.

I took my seat as she introduced herself and let us get to work.

——————

It was around 5 minutes before the bell rang that I was done

Perfect timing

I thought to myself as my fingers ran over the chair feeling all the dents and cracks in in but I didn't dare touch the underside of the chair you never know what your going to find... yeah I don't wanna take that chance...again.

My fingers ran over a particular spot on the chair it was around the top of it where your back leans onto the chair. It felt like a name that was carved into it...

I tried to feel the name but only being able to fee it all I got was a "J" and I think it was an "e" or is it an "c"?

I couldn't really tell but I would be able to see it once I got up.

And just as I said those words it felt as timed slowed down as the clock felt like it wasn't moving...

I sighed as of course just as I want to one get out of here and to read the name the world really gave me the middle finger

I zoned out and just started focusing on tiny details nothing really interesting just something to fill the time with.

The bell finally rang as the class started to pack up, honestly I think I zoned out so hard that I almost forgot to look at the name.

It was a bit hard to read as it was carved crudely into the chair but it read

"JEFF"

Huh it might have been a coincidence but I heard a rumor that there was gonna be a new student named Jeff don't know the last name but I guess he had already made himself home...

————————————————

To be continued

A killer love story part- 1/?

Word count- 842

—————————-

#creepypasta #jeff the killer #y/n #story #character x y/n #Spotify

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vikingsagine · 4 years

Text

My Religion (Ubbe x Reader)

I like Ubbe, I think he’s hot. An underrated character, he is the least corrupted one of Ragnar’s children. Like come on! He just wanted to live happily with his brother’s as a family but then, sh*t happened like always. I can’t with this guy! He’s too hot for me!

Part One > Don’t need to read, it’s just to see how things started. I write these so you don’t need to start from the beginning because I personally kind of hate that, but just gives enough background <

Summary: You took up lessons with the Viking man and discovered new found desires, sins.

Warnings: Sexism, Ubbe being a sexy.

@ivarthebloodyking @soleil-dor @affection-rabbit

You have learnt, to say the least.

Over the course of the past week, you grew to learn the world of a Viking. Not completely, but had a hint of its differences. Your first lesson with Ubbe felt like a brush with death. He stood you in front of a tree and threw axes, telling you to stand still and to not be afraid. Of course, you didn’t take it well and actually screamed and tried to run away. But eventually with more explanation from Ubbe, you sort-of willingly complied.

The next lesson was more brutal. Ubbe handed you a weapon and said, ‘Defend yourself,’ then attacked. No remorse and no mercy. The man easily beat you over and over and over again, leaving you a bruised mess by the end of the day. You cried many times but did not quit.

Days followed after the other and things grew easier, more tolerable. He taught you to wield other things, a shield, a sword, a spear and an axe. But none caught your interest. They didn’t make you feel empowered or wanting to voluntarily hold it.

However, there were many other lessons you experienced during this time. Not just violence, tears, pain and a respectable resent. It was an attraction.

It all started when you were trying to sharpen your weapon without really knowing what you were doing. Ubbe grew annoyed and caught your hands in his own, angrily pressed himself to your back and took control of your actions. Of course, you don’t remember what he had said and was instead a blushing mess. Stiff and tense, his breath fanned over your cheek. While his calloused hands grasped your delicate fingers with no grace or tender care. Though small and simple, your heart pounded.

***

You were trying to explain to Ubbe about Adam and Eve, the serpent and biting into the forbidden fruit. “How could they not have known they were walking around naked?” Ubbe interrupted, staring at you with furrowed eyebrows and a disbelief look. You huffed.

“Because they didn’t know shame, they had no knowledge of good or evil.” Ubbe frowned, unsatisfied with your answer.

“Even a complete idiot would know when someone’s dick is hanging out.” You let out a shaky breath, combing your hands through your thick locks. “I mean, if Adam and Eve didn’t bite into the fruit, you and I would be naked right now?” You felt your cheeks warm, his blunt behavior catching you off guard.

“Well, technically yes.” The corner of his lip twitched, timidly sliding his eyes down your body in a suggestive way. You consciously crossed your arms and tried to ignore his heated gaze. You felt your stomach flutter, your thighs clenching together as your body reacted in a way it shouldn’t. You turned scarlet red, deciding to tear yourself away from his hooded blue orbs.

Shame. Your attraction taking over your body evoked a pining desire, one that would be deemed punishable under the eyes of your Father. That is when you saw how serious your issue of attraction is. Perhaps it would have been fine if you were betrothed to him and he was a christian man, following under the light of God. Or your Father accepted him. But under all three, he was not. Ubbe is a pagan, believed in more than one God and was nothing but an animal.

***

Now here you were, positioned by your Father and Mother, intrigued in the flicker of bodies. In all the great banquets you have attended with your parents, this was the first that was so lively. Men and women alike joined in, dancing to the rough drums and horns of the vikings. People drank and laughed. Others sat and ate, observing their joyous behavior. And there were those who sat and judged, clear sight of discontent and resent towards such acts. One of which was your Father, mumbling about ‘pagans’ and their unholy grace.

From across the room, you found the sight of your viking mentor. His sandy blonde hair tangled in messy braids, a cup of alcohol pressed against his lips as he spoke to the blonde woman next to him. The strong shield-maiden from the town. You frowned, jealousy creeping up on you. They looked comfortable with one another, they were lovers after all. You huffed and turned your attention elsewhere in hopes of killing the hurt inside.

“What do you say, daughter?” Afton broke your chain of thoughts. There stood one of the older men, a smirk tugging at his lips as he held his hand out to you. “Do you accept?” Clamping your mouth shot, you stared at the man before you. He was dressed in fine clothes, cheeks rosy from alcohol and blonde hair shining. You gave him a small smile, standing up to accept his offer to dance. He led you to the floor and pulled your flush form against his body.

“I am surprised you are not married, you are beautiful.” The lord whispered into your ear, his hand dipping down the small of your back and to your waist. His breath smelt of meat and mead, two flavors that did not go well together.

“My Father doesn’t accept anyone so easily.”

“That is understandable.” This made you furrow your eyebrows and glance up at the thin man, staring up at his large nose and dim blue orbs.

“How so?” His fingers began to slither lower down your side and you squirmed slightly.

“For the future of his legacy, he can’t trade you for any man.” You tighten your grip around him and clench your jaw. A swarming wave of bubbling anger rose, one that would not subside so easily. “It is better to give your daughter away to a man who is wealthy and strong and capable like me.” You bit back your need to roll your eyes as he grinned suggestively. “Because you don’t have any brother’s, the only thing a man can do in his position is pray to God for a grandson.” Your blood ran cold.

“Thank you for this dance my lord.” Stepping away from the belittling being, you bit back your tongue and gave him a sickly sweet smile. Even though there were many other things you wanted to do to him. Now isn’t the time nor place. “I am sure my Father would have enjoyed it.”

“You are not excused.” His soft and clammy hands gripped your forearm, tugged you towards him and glared at you. Daring you to cause a scene and scream. “Just because you are beautiful and your Father is the priest, he will not take so easily to your misbehavior.” His large hand cupped your bottom, grinding himself into your lower region. “Now play nice like a woman should.” This crossed your line and in one swift movement, you pushed your palm against his lips and dug your knee into his groin.

“You should be thankful that I chose to dance with you.” You seethed between your teeth and watched as he curled over in agony, hand clutching his genitals. Because of the loud music and the swirling crowd of people, no one saw the spectacle which is fortunate for you. You took a fistful of your dress and gracefully stomped away, sure to not cause any curious glances.

“You-” The lord leapt out to grab your form but was instead pushed back by the body of another. Ubbe. His eyebrows twitched and then his lips flickered a smirk. You watched in awe as he glared down at the poor excuse of a man, bright blue eyes challenging him to make another move. Instead he stood straight and glanced between you and Ubbe, skeptical but frightened. “Get out of my way pagan, I could have you killed for this.” The lord attempted to barge forward but instead was pushed back by the firm stance of the viking, his body never wavering.

“Leave.” One word, his tone threatening and dangerous. It went straight to your core, making it clench and stir. There were few of those who noticed the skepticism, some of the bystanders who stared with zipped lips and the group of vikings Ubbe was once with. When you drew your attention back, Ubbe was looking at you with an easy smirk. “I saw your little move there, are you sure you are a Christian?” You followed his figure out of the mass of people, standing a few metres away.

“Thank you Ubbe.” You glanced over to your Father to check if he saw, he did not. Too occupied with one of the other men, discussing something that seemed serious.

“I’ll have you know that King Alfred wants to have me baptized.” This piqued your interest. You studied his appearance, dressed in his thick layers of clothes and leather. Beard soft and your fingers itched to feel it, to tug it.

“That means you must renounce your beliefs.” He perched himself onto a beam, leaning against the wall and both of you were out of sight. He took a sip of mead, eyes flickering to your face and the others.

“I know.”

“What will you do?”

“I haven’t decided.” Ubbe drew in a large breath and sat up, patting the space next to him. You obliged, resting against the wall just as he did. He leaned over and held out his cup. “Drink.”

“No, I can’t drink alcohol.” You pushed it away. He frowned, blue eyes absorbing your appearance. You are all too aware of proximity, you felt his leg brush up against yours. “My Father does not allow it.” Being persistent, Ubbe forced the cup of liquor into your hand and concluded.

“My Mother told me when I was younger not to sleep with the slaves, I didn’t listen.” You gaped at him in disbelief but also in embarrassment. Ubbe waited for you to drink the cup of foul liquor, edging you on with his piercing blue orbs. Reluctantly obeying, you took a sip and scrunched your face up in disgust.

“Ew.” Ubbe laughed, pulling it from your hands and sculled it down like it was water. You knew better than to be here in the open with Ubbe, if people saw or more specifically your Father, he would have Ubbe killed and would probably deem your behavior sinful and the sway of the devil. “Is she your wife?” Ubbe surprised from your question, he followed your gaze to the woman you spoke of, Torvi. A lot of people assumed they were lovers where in fact, they were really close friends almost like brother and sister.

“Why? Are you jealous?” Ubbe intended it as a joke to make you grumpy and glare. He found it cute, your small self scowling in an attempt to threaten his larger and powerful being. He expected to be corrected but instead your cheeks turned a bright pink and you looked away. Oh, the viking smirked and inched closer.

“No, I’m not jealous. Envy is a sin.”

“Ah, I see.” Testing the waters, Ubbe pushed his leg more firmly against yours, waiting to see if you would remain still or move away. You stayed. “No, she is not my wife but we are close.” You didn’t know whether to feel gladden or disappointed.

“Oh, so you are...lovers?” With a forced monotone voice you locked eyes with the viking. A mistake on your side because you were instantly bewitched by the thirst behind his sky-like specs. Your lips parted and your thighs clenched.

“Do you think we are lovers?” He leaned in, daring you to cower and sink further into your shell, but something kept you still. Whether it be your burning core or the fluttering in your stomach, you didn’t want to move.

“Yes.”

“Does it bother you?” Swallowing hard, you glanced down to his lips, chapped and pink. You wanted to taste them, feel them, fight with them. Ubbe traced his finger down the side of your face, drawing out a subtle shudder. It was small but he noticed.

“N-no.” He made a clicking noise and jerked back, leaving you in the absence of his remaining touch. As silly as it sounds, electricity coursed through you just from his touch. It left a hot burn on your cheek. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“Shame, I was thinking of kissing you.”

“W-what?” You were flabbergasted, staring at Ubbe with big wide doe eyes. There were many things that took you by surprise. When you found your Father sleeping with another woman, a slave girl, or when you found out where babies came from. They left you stunned but not like this.

“Torvi is a good friend.” Ubbe stood up and hovered before your conflicted being. “But we wouldn’t want to taint your christian lips, hmm.” And just like that, he was gone. Disappeared into the sea of people and left you a confused, wanting and guilty wreck.

This man made you feel emotions. Slithered like the devil’s snake, lulling you to take a bite of a forbidden fruit. And if you did not pull yourself together any sooner, you feared you would lose and succumb to temptation.

#ubbe #ubbe lothbrok #vikings #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe imagine #ubbe x reader #vikings x reader #x reader

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tiredlittleoldme · 4 years

Text

The Sin Eater

[ID: There are 9 images, spread 3 by 3. Top left is the image of bare trees with some yellow leaves and some light fog. Top middle is a cabin in the middle of the forest in autumn The cabin is made of dark wood, with a porch and a bench under it. Top right image is a view of a road with a truck on it. The road is in the middle of the woods, the trees are a mix of evergreen and trees with orange and yellow leaves. Second row left is a foggy road on top of a grave. A tree extends its branches over the grave. Second row middle is a black background with written in white The Sin Eater. Second row right is a picture of a tall bridge over rushing waters. Bottom left is a the silhouette of a man walking in a dark forest. There’s blue mist behind and around him. Bottom middle is a large river at sunset. Bottom right is a man, his face looking right, on the other side of a rain-stained window. end ID]

WIP intro: The Sin Eater

Genre: Contemporary Fantasy, Romance, Found Family

Current status: First draft finished

Synopsis: Eliott’s job is simple: absorbing people’s sins after their deaths so they can be at peace. Leading a quiet and lonely existence in his cabin on the edges of town, his life changes completely when he receives a watch, a letter and a mission.

Characters: Eliott, the Sin Eater | Melissa, the caretaker | Jen, the nurse | James, the grandson

Themes: found family, familial love, romantic love, platonic love... Some darker ones too: anxiety, suicide, depression, death, grief...

Vibes: the red leaves of autumn, the fresh air of the woods, the feel of your hand on the bark of a tree, the silence of the forest or the stillness of the air, the scent of wood and a warm tea, the feel of thick red blood against your fingers, the smell of incense and the roughness of a ouija board against your fingertips...

Excerpt: “It’s not real, this thing of not looking sin eaters in the eyes. It’s made up. People are just scared. Scared to see their mistakes on someone else’s face, someone who hasn’t made any mistakes. You’ll tell James, right? You’ll tell him to look you in the eyes...”

More excerpts: here, here, a prompt about Melissa and Jen, here

Tag-list: @pe-ersona @dahladahlabills @selenthediscountvamp @sunshineomeara @blindthewind - just ask to be included or removed to the list!

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foxpaws10 · 4 years

Text

I know as a fandom we’ve decided that Blood//Water by Grandson is an AFTG theme song but I’ve been going through his other music and holy cow, this dude is writing a revolution through music, but could easily be writing the music for an aftg Netflix series!

Bury Me Face Down is a perfect Neil Josten song:

(When I go into the ground I won't go quietly, I'm bringin' my crown When I go into the ground Oh, they gotta bury me, bury me face down

There's a whole damn army thinkin' that they're gonna harm me Say goodnight, I'll never get free Oh, I got troubles that won't let me be But I won't get tired, set the town on fire 'Till my troubles got trouble with me

I've been on the run Since I was a boy But now I'm done runnin', got another thing comin' Watch my enemies get destroyed Oh, I've got troubles of more than one kind But I never sleep, gotta bury me six feet deep Where the sun don't shine

I've been counted out, left for dead Wanted with a bounty on my head But somehow, someway, I'm-a keep movin' along, movin' along)

Overdose for Andrew/Seth:

(I was higher than the nosebleed

I can't just do one now, no I've been way to numb now I'm living on the run now Oh I gotta get out of this town somehow

Better tell me what's your life worth I think its time for a change Cause the drugs don't work anymore

I couldn't find the fill again Couldn't seem to kill the pain I was living in the moment Searching for a little serotonin But this shit ain't so fun now I can’t deal with the come down

Overdose, all fun and games till I hit the floor comatose)

Blood//Water is perfect for the Baltimore scene or Neil’s time with the Ravens:

(We'll never get free Lamb to the slaughter

The price of your greed Is your son and your daughter

Look me in my eyes Tell me everything's not fine

You thought you could go free But the system is done for If you listen real closely There's a knock at your front door

Beg me for mercy Admit you were toxic You poisoned me just for Another dollar in your pocket Now I am the violence I am the sickness Won't accept your silence Beg me for forgiveness)

Darkside for Andrew:

(He never went to check under his bed He was living with the monsters in his head Sick of getting beat up He listened, what they said Told him do some very bad things And when the time comes That he count to ten Ain't nobody ever gon' fuck with him again Feeling all alone, it was him against them)

I’m not going to go through them all but oh man, they’re perfect for the foxes! So many would be amazing to play in the background of Neil’s “You know I get it,” speech, or when he punched Riko (6:00 sits well for it imo).

Do yourself a favour and listen to Best Friends, Oh No!, Die Young, 6:00 and Despicable for just a few as well as the ones above.

#aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #the raven king #trk #neil josten #the foxes #Andrew minyard #seth gordon #grandson #mine #the kings men #tkm #nathaniel wesninski

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mcfanely · 4 years

Text

Prince Cole, the Quiet One

Since I’ve been thinking on this idea for the past few days and couldn’t get it out of my head, I had to write something for it. In this AU, Cole takes the role of Harumi.

Cole has always been the Jade Prince, he’d been born into the role; yet being a ninja had always taken priority. Though, after years of being pushed to the side, ignored and having his problems not taken seriously, his opinions not taken into account by bother his father, the Emperor, and his teammates; he’s tired.

And he won’t be ignored anymore. He won’t be silenced.

The Quiet One, 1613 words

"The mask of hatred... We've found it." Cole laughed, and he had to laugh. After all this time, after all this stress and false leads and simply not knowing where to go, the final mask was right in front of him.

Right there. Shrouded in purple energy.

Lloyd smiled too, but it was probably due to a different reason. They'd beaten the Sons of Garmadon, they weren't going to win and carry out their plan; that was most likely the reason.

In that moment, though, Cole had won. No one else, not the ninja, no one.

Him.

He just needed the mask.

"Lloyd, you can take it. Your Oni blood will let you take the mask."

And Lloyd turned, he faced the purple field with a set gaze and Cole swallowed hard. All this time, all of the lies and the struggle, it would be over! He could finally get what he wanted, bring back what was taken from him.

Then Lloyd took hold of the mask, and pulled. The purple light flared for just a second, but died down just as promptly; and the mask was free.

Cole took a small step forward beside himself, he just wanted a proper look. "The last mask..." He shook himself, "Come on, let’s head back to the Bounty. Before the Sons of Garmadon find out we've got the last mask."

He reached over for the mask, subtly. Like, why would he not want to hold it? Lloyd could take the lead, focus on getting back to the Bounty safely, and Cole could carry the mask.

Then Lloyd shifted away, moving the mask with him, and with a slight bit of confusion, he questioned, "How did you know... That I was part Oni?"

Cole just raised an eyebrow after a second, as if it was obvious, "Lloyd, you're the grandson of the first Spinjitzu Master. He's an Oni, you're part Oni."

"But, at Mistaké's, Jay and I found out. And we didn't tell anyone, it wasn't important at the time..." Lloyd faltered, they hadn’t told anyone, "We didn't even mention it."

"Jay told me." Cole shrugged, but his eyes flickered between Lloyd's expression and the mask. At the shock that was there, the confusion.

The dawning realisation.

"Lloyd, just give me the mask, we need to get going--"

"You're the Quiet One..." He whispered.

All that could be heard in the cavern was the sound of dripping water. The echo of the river running outside, and their joint breathing. Deep, fast.

Cole swallowed hard, but put on a small smile, "What? Lloyd, come on. That's a stupid idea."

He advanced, Lloyd just stepped further away.

"Why would I be the Quiet One?"

Lloyd paused, and Cole could tell he was thinking. Thinking of a reason, an explanation of his accusation.

"I don't know... But Cole, you're the Jade Prince. You're a Ninja! But you knew about the mask, you knew where the map to it was.

"It wouldn't be the first secret you've kept from us-"

Cole's gaze snapped up to Lloyd at those words. The first secret? The fact that he'd kept it from them? That he’d kept everything from them?

No, he didn't keep secrets. He didn't lie to people, not really. He wouldn't have to if he knew that he could trust them with the truth. The reveal of him being the Jade Prince had only been a source of jibes and ridicule. Jay had laughed at the situation, right in front of his father.

Was there any reason why he should have told them? The Sons of Garmadon knew, they knew every part of his life. Everything.

Whereas, the ninja, his supposed friends find out one thing about him and suddenly that's all they tease him for.

Is it any wonder why he kept things from them?

And if he'd told them, would they have cared. Taken an interest? Cole knew that he wasn't the most liked ninja; in the sense that if he asked anyone of his teammates who they cared about the most, Cole wouldn't be at the top of anyone's list.

He was in the background. He was ignored and pushed aside and almost forgotten about! He got turned into a ghost and no one seemed to care how he felt; and between his life at the Palace, at the Monastery, and with the Sons of Garmadon, he was being pulled in so many directions and he was so exhausted...

Yet, no one asked him if he was okay. No one acknowledged the bags under his eyes or the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Me, keeping secrets?" Cole laughed beside himself, though it wasn't jovial. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes. They really didn't understand.

They didn't know what they'd done-- or not done.

"I've never kept anything from you guys. The idea of a secret is something that I keep hidden actively from people. That is unseen by others." Cole grit his teeth, glared at Lloyd. "You don't pay attention, no one cares enough about me to even class it as a secret. No one looks at me and wonders if I'm okay, wonders if I'm keeping things from people-- no one wonders because no one cares!" He shouted.

The ground rumbled in unison, powers fuelled by Cole's frustration. The hurt. Lloyd stumbled back.

"Cole--"

"I'm invisible to you guys! Always the last one you think about, the last one you notice!" There was a short crack in his voice. He threaded his fingers through his hair, pulling. Everything was coming rushing out, all because Lloyd had to pick the wrong thing to say.

"So what if I am the Quiet One? I've been silenced my whole life! By my father and my role as the Prince, by being a Ninja and not being able to tell you who I really am! By being the least important! No one listens to me!

No one notices that I'm in pain and I'm so exhausted that I can't even keep myself awake half the time!"

Cole advanced forward faster, and Lloyd moved the mask behind his back and maintained the distance between the two of them.

"Cole… We didn't know you felt like that." Lloyd said, placating. "If you'd just come and told us, told us how you were feeling, who you are, we would have helped you! We would have listened, understood!"

Cole grabbed for the mask and Lloyd tripped backwards, hitting the ground, Cole just stood over him, his shoulders heaving, his eyes burning with tears that were quickly threatening to spill.

"So you could laugh at me?" He shouted. "And don't tell me you wouldn't have, Jay did! In the throne room, in front of the Emperor, my father!” Cole jabbed a finger at his own chest, “So you could dismiss my feelings? Get caught up in some other worldly problem or someone else's issue?"

Lloyd looked hurt at that, and gathered himself up off the floor, "We're your friends, Cole! We may not get it right all the time but we're here for you! We care about you, and whatever this Quiet One phase is, whatever the reason behind it is, we can help you." His eyes moved down to the mask in his hands, before he gripped it tightly.

"Why do you want the masks? They can resurrect people, why do you want them?" The question was carefully measured, quietly spoken in the expanse of the cavern. The atmosphere was still thick, tense, but Lloyd was trying to calm it. Calm the situation.

"Because with the masks, I can get the one person back who actually cares about me." Cole swallowed around the lump in his throat, he could feel a tear fall free and track down his cheek, he just wiped it away and held out his hand.

"Give me the mask, Lloyd."

"Tell me who you're resurrecting-- Cole, tell me everything. We can sit and talk, figure this out. This doesn't have to go any further than it has done, you can stop right now. This whole thing can stop."

Lloyd, always the talker. Always words before actions.

"I want my mother back." Cole ground out after a second of silence, his head dropping forwards a little. He didn't need Lloyd to see the pain on his face. He didn't want anyone to see the pain he felt inside.

Lloyd's eyes widened.

Cole just straightened up after a moment, he eyes the mask but his attention was mainly on Lloyd. At the fact that he was listening.

Or, at the fact that it took deception and lies and a severe betrayal to finally get someone to listen to his plight.

To ask if he was okay.

Is that really what it took to get people to listen to him? For him to stop being invisible?

"I just want to be seen, Lloyd. I just want to be understood and cared about--

"We do care! And you can help us understand--"

"Shut up." He spat.

Lloyd promptly fell silent.

"I want my mother." Cole shifted on his feet, until he was in a fighting stance, his legs apart, arms up and fists balled. "And I want that mask."

Lloyd observed what was happening, but didn't make any move to retaliate, to show he was going to fight back.

"Cole--"

"I want to be seen! I don't want to be ignored, I don't want to be invisible or to be someone's second choice! I want to be cared about!

And when you give me that mask, willingly or not, I'll finally have someone who cares.

I'll finally be seen."

#Jade Prince Cole AU #The Quiet One AU #cole ninjago #cole brookstone #cole #ninjago #lego ninjago #lego #lloyd garmadon #lloyd ninjago #lloyd #The Jade Prince #The Jade Princess #mcfanely writes #mcfanely aus #mcfanely #jade prince cole #harumi

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