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cam-ryt · 26 days

Note

A little fandom crossover but I've been obsessed with the concept of Warlock Darth Vader and Fae Obi-Wan who fall in love with each other 👀

It's Sunday prompt day !! 🥳

I'm so excited about this new concept and I received very interesting prompts to write about, I can't wait to post them all !

This one was the first I wrote about, thank you for sending it, it gave me so many ideas, I got a little carried away aha. I couldn't write the whole falling in love process or I had to write a whole fic but I hope you'll still enjoy it !! 💕

TW : mention of heavily scarred body (kinda suitless Vader)

___________

When Vader first sets foot on Aldhani, he immediately feels like the atmosphere is different than any other planet he’d ever landed on. And he has visited a lot, conquered a lot.

This one would make no exception.

Stepping off the metallic bridge of his ship, he presses the sole of his boots on the wet ground, tall grass lazily dancing in the wind around his legs.

The view is breathtaking, a soothing break in the dark turmoils of the war.

Framing the valley in which he landed are mountains, rising high enough to be crowned by the clouds. The early morning light is painting them in shades of orange and the only sounds he can hear are the singing of the birds, the light breeze playing with his hair and his own breathing, loud and unnatural.

Closing his eyes, he lets his mind wander, searching for any living presence in the area.

It’s an easy mission, the population being mainly made up of farmers and religious people, none of them bearing any kind of power. That's why he came alone, on the orders of his master, counting on his magic and lightsaber alone to convince them to join the Empire.

When he’s done scanning his surroundings for any advanced intelligent form - he hasn’t found any - he decides that his best chance is to leave his ship behind and to follow the river deeper in the valley until he finds a village.

Before leaving, he decides to change his heavy suit and coat for something lighter and more practical. He adjusts the lightsaber to his tunic belt, wraps himself in a long dark cape and checks that his portable oxygenator is fully charged. Once he’s done making sure it’s carefully strapped to his mouth and nose and working fine, converting the right amount of air into his oxygen needs, he grabs his traveling bag and heads to the river.

The walk is pretty gentle on his mechanic joints, far more comfortable than walking on the rough stone banks of Mustafar or worst, in the sand. Here he doesn’t even think about his next steps as he strolls along the riverside, leaving space for his head to think and his senses to explore.

The Force is strong in here, almost palpable, pure life energy flowing into every being, from the smallest flower to the highest mountain. It’s neither good nor bad he realises. It’s nothing and it’s everything at the same time. It doesn’t care about the war, it doesn’t care about politics, about pain and hope. It exists only to serve a purpose : giving life and keeping the gears of the universe turning.

The thought keeps him wondering for a while.

The sun is high when he’s confronted to a choice. He's deep down in the bottom of the valley and in front of him the river is sinking between trees marking the edges of a forest. He can continue following it or try to avoid the woods in which he might get lost.

He hesitates for a second, deciding to rely on his instincts. The call of the forest is strong, as if the Force is even denser here, flowing through the sap of the old trees and impregnating the very ground. He can almost feel it buzzing around him.

So he follows it.

The cover of the trees is welcomed as the sun starts to hit harder in the middle of the day. He has dropped the cape and rolled up his sleeves, exposing one delicately crafted mechanic arm, the other one being only torn flesh and burned skin. Still functional but painful and unsightly. He doesn't really care, he has learned how to wield his lightsaber with his other hand.

The scars on his body and face are another thing, though. They make him suffer every minute, a painful reminder of what he had to endure to become as powerful as he is today. They took away any sense of comfort he had taken for granted for too long, forcing him to rely on a machine to draw breath after breath and keep himself alive. They also took away the privilege of being perceived as “normal” in other people eyes, not that he seeks any kind of contact with any kind of people, but some looks still hurt, even years later.

He's on the edge of the slippery path to self-loathing when something makes him stops right in his tracks. A feeling.

Looking around, he realises that the river has given life to the beginning of a lake. From where he is, he can see it entirely ; a calm body of water enclosed by ancient trees, their reddish foliage reflecting in the water like a mirror.

For a moment he just stays there, staring at the gorgeous sight. It looks like a dream.

Light pierces through the branches, illuminating the myriad of insects flying over the surface of the lake, diving through the shades of blue to highlight the silver scales of the fish hiding in the shadows.

The Force is so thick in here, bathing every creature in vital energy, he can taste it on the back of his tongue.

And then he realises why he had stopped in the first place. He had felt something. Something bigger than the frogs and the deers wandering around. Something with a consciousness so vast and complex he wonders why he’s only feeling it just now.

It is there, right in the middle of the lake.

Someone.

Vader’s heart misses a beat as he crouches down behind the trunk of an elder tree.

There’s a creature immerged in the deep waters, swimming gracefully between the water lilies. A man, as far as he can tell. The sun, where it pierces through the leaves, is kissing his pale skin and making his wet hair look like a flaming crown.

Vader’s eyes are stuck to his silhouette, and the time seems to stretch out as he follows him slowly getting back to the bank.

And then the man climbs out of the water and he doesn’t know if he’s chocked out by the fact that he’s completely naked or if it’s because of the pair of wings sticking out of his back. His face still heats up all the same.

Saying that this creature is the most beautiful person he’s layed his eyes on is an understatement.

He’s gorgeous, droplets of water running down his skin like little beads of light, bronze hair sticking on the back of his neck, his body lean and strong.

And there’s the wings. Vader still has a hard time believing his own eyes.

They’re tall, rising up a few inches above his head and falling to his bare feet, where he notices a bracelet around one of his ankles.

They look incredibly thin and fragile, for they’re mostly transparent. But when they're playing with the light, they’re suddenly painted in a million color, like a diamond in a beam. He’s never seen something like that before, it’s hypnotizing.

Just when he leans a bit closer on the tree, his scarred hand rips on the bark and he loses his balance, putting a knee on the ground with a loud thud, and the echo of the sound seems to ripple in the Force.

Immediately the man turns his head in his direction, scrutinizing the shadows where he hides.

“Who’s there ?” He asks warily, swiftly picking up a piece of clothes on the ground and putting it on.

Vader feels a tingle of regret when the beige tunic drapes almost all of his body, covering his arms and falling just above his knees. He watches him tighten it at the waist with another blue piece of fabric, and feels his cheeks burning up again when the man picks up a thinner leather belt that he fixes around his thigh, lifting the tunic in the process. He notices the dagger in the sheath just before the piece of clothes falls back again, hiding the pretty thigh and the weapon with it. He’s so fascinated by the whole sight that he needs a second to realise that the wings are gone.

“I can feel you.” The man says again, and this time he’s moving in his direction. “Show yourself.”

Vader can understand what he says without any problems. His accent informs him that he’s probably not a native from this planet.

He weights his choices for a while. The stranger doesn't seem to be dangerous, and his weapon is no match again his lightsaber. Maybe he can even lead him to the nearest village.

He steps out of the shadow of the tree with his hands up, showing no sign of hostily.

“I’m sorry.” He says. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The man stops in his tracks and his eyes widen when they land on Vader’s face, his lips parting in a horrified grimace.

Vader is used to that kind of reaction, but he can’t help feeling sharply self-conscious about his looks under the creature's gaze. It almost makes him want to hide under his hood.

They stare at each other for a long while, none of them daring to move or to speak. Vader feels like the stranger’s eyes are piercing right through him, dissecting every one of his scars, reading every bad decisions leading to them like an open book. He has to force himself not to squirm under his gaze.

Then the man takes a step closer, reducing the distance between them from another meter. From where he stands Vader can see his face better, he can tell that his eyes are the same color as the lake, fierce and suspicious, or that he looks like he’s in his late thirties. His skin seems as soft as his own is damaged, studded with a galaxy of freckles on his nose and cheeks. A beard is framing his perfect face, sharing bronze and golden hues with the hair falling on his shoulders.

He looks like the Sun personified and Vader cannot take his eyes of him.

“Who are you, stranger ?” The man asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. “State your name and business.”

His voice is firmer and colder, but it still sounds like music to Vader’s ears. He sees his hand getting closer to his thigh when he doesn’t answer and decides to speak then.

“I think I’m lost.” He half lies. “My ship crashed half a day of walk from here and I’m looking for the nearest village to repair it.”

The man raises an eyebrow and takes another careful step closer.

“I heard no such thing as the crash of a ship. And you didn’t tell me your name.”

“Is it really that imp-”

Vader cannot end his sentence that a root breaks out from the soil and wraps itself around his legs, pinning him to the ground and growing bigger by the second, curling up around his waist and pressing his arms to his side like one of those snakes he saw once in an archive. The pressure is strong enough to immobilize him but it feels like they could break his bones at any moment. When they reach his throat, the instinctive rush of magic flowing through his body makes his skin tingle, ready to be used at full power to defend himself.

“I can feel the darkness in you.” The man growls.

His dagger is in his hand now, and there’s something irradiating from him in the Force. It takes Vader a second to understand that he’s also using some kind of magic to control the roots. It makes him re-evaluate the situation and his opponent.

“Alright.” He says, struggling as one of the roots wraps itself tighter around his throat. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The man frowns and slides in front of him, close enough for Vader to see every details of his face, like the little mole under his right eye or the pink shade of his lips, twisted in an upset line.

“What are you ?” He enquires, making no move to ease the pressure on the other’s body.

“I’m- I'm a warlock.” Vader decides to reveal. It’s a half-truth, but the stranger doesn't need to know more. He doesn’t need too convinced, though.

“Liar.” He hisses a few inches from his face and Vader can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on as his self-preservation instinct begins to doubt whether he's the predator in this situation. “You reek of the dark side. Why are you here ?”

As he asks questions, the man grabs the sides of his cape and pulls them apart to search him. It doesn’t take long until he finds his lightsaber, that he takes with a disgusted look on his face.

“You’re a Sith.” He growls, narrowing his eyes to look at him more closely, hostility clearly written on his features. “You’re siding with the Empire. You’re here to enslave us.”

Vader doesn’t deny it, there’s no use.

“Don’t kill me.” He just asks softly, and he doesn't even have a good excuse to add.

“And why would I let you live ?” The man snarls. “When you come here bringing chaos, pain and destruction ?”

He takes a step back suddenly, looking around in alert.

“Are there others like you ?”

“I came alone.” Vader replies, he had stopped struggling and the roots had stopped tightening, making it uncomfortable but not impossible to breathe. “I swear.”

“Why should I trust you ?” The man asks again, crossing his arms against his chest.

“I’ll let you read in my mind.” Vader says. “You’ll see I'm telling the truth.”

It’s a risky move. He doesn’t know how powerful the stranger is, and he already made the mistake of underestimating him once. But he doesn't want to engage in a fight.

The man gives him a suspicious look. He has no reason to trust him, but he seems conflicted. Vader can almost hear his thoughts. He’s not sure he’s strong enough to kill him if he tried, but he doesn't want to put his village in danger by bringing him there as a prisoner. It’s a dead end. Maybe he can offer a solution.

“I could… Tell the Empire that I found no-one here.” He says carefully. “That you already fled to another system to seek the help of the rebellion.”

The man's eyebrows shot up at his words.

“And why exactly would you do that ?”

“It would be a waste to destroy a planet like that. Where the Force is so strong and balanced.” Vader replies, and then coughs as his oxygenator finally has a hard time providing enough oxygen in his state.

The man observes him for a while, pondering.

“So you’ll just fly back to your emperor and lie to his face for the sake of one planet out of the hundreds you probably already doomed ? This is absurd.”

“This- This planet is no use for the Empire.” Vader says and, oh, black dots are dancing around his vision now. “I- I can’t breathe.”

He sees the man straighten, peering at him to evaluate if he’s trying to fool him or if he’s really in distress.

That’s when his legs give way under his weight that he has a glimpse of the stranger rushing to him before everything goes black.

When he comes back to his senses, he’s lying on his back on a pile of soft leaves, under the cover of what looks like a weeping willow. It takes a second for his brain to kick in, and when it does his first reflex is to get up. That’s when he realizes that his hands are tied in front of him, and that he’s not alone.

“I thought you were dead for a while.” The man sitting a few meters away from him says.

He’s building a fire camp with dry wood and terse grass. He added another layer on his shoulders and Vader shivers when the chill air of the evening slips under his thin tunic. He must have blacked out for a few hours. Without thinking, he closes his eyes and concentrates on the fire camp. A second later, a spark ignites in his center and flames start to consume the dry wood.

He can’t help but smirk when he hears the man gasp at his little trick.

“What-”

“Relax.” He says, slowly sitting up on the ground. “I’m not going to hurt you, I’m just cold.”

The stranger makes a face but doesn’t reply. Instead he picks up his dagger and starts to peel some edible roots piled up by his side.

Vader watches him in silence for a while. He’s still as fascinated by the stranger. He wants to know more about him. About his story.

“What’s your name ?” He finally asks, trying to find a more comfortable position for his metallic joints. At least his oxygenator is working fine again.

The man raises his head in his direction, his blue eyes staring at him with a mix of curiosity and defiance.

“You didn’t tell me yours.”

“Ah, fair enough.” Vader replies with a light smile. He hesitates for a millisecond. “Anakin. My name is Anakin.”

“Anakin.” The man repeats, and it’s strange to hear it in the mouth of someone else. To hear it again after such a long time. Maybe it’s not as dead as he thought. “I’m Obi-Wan.”

Vader thinks that it’s a beautiful name for a beautiful man he met on a beautiful planet.

Now he doesn’t have to get back to the emperor just yet, does he ? He can take a few days away from the war, from the horrors and the pain. He can pretend that he’s not a monster for a while. He can bathe in the beauty and the calm of this planet, let it heal him even if he doesn’t deserve it. The best he can do is to avoid corrupting it.

“Obi-Wan.” He tastes the name on his tongue and decides that he likes it. “Tell me more about you.”

#sunday prompt day #obikin prompts #obikin #star wars au #star wars prequels #obi wan and anakin #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #obi wan x anakin #my writing

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thedistantstorm · 5 years

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Phoenix Protocol 39

When the Traveler’s Light was returned to the Guardians after the defeat of the Cabal, it did not manifest itself the same in everyone. Miyu, an Awoken Warlock, finds herself struggling with her abilities, her Light feeling different and not her own. With her Vanguard preoccupied with grief and all eyes turned to the Reef, she finds herself turning to an unlikely source in an attempt to rediscover her connection to the Light and define what it means for her as a Dawnblade.

Note: The amazing artwork for this chapter was done by @guardiangummies. She does amazing work if you’re ever looking to commission art!

Previously

Miyu pulls her blade from the husk of an Acolyte, forming up on her Vanguard. Ikora’s gaze is heavy and dark, the blood trickling beneath her ears dark and sticky with residual ichar. In her hands, the void churns, volatile and hungry, ready to feed at its master’s behest, her superb gift thwarting the call of the Darkness.

“Another Knight,” She calls, louder now. No doubt she’s suffering from hearing loss thanks to her resistance to the Hive’s dark magic, even with her Ghost to heal her intermittently. “There has to be.” A Thrall darts out at them and Miyu smashes her fist into its skull. Solar Light flares out and engulfs them both. Ikora shifts, straightening. “What is - what are you doing?”

“I don’t have a name for it, yet,” The Awoken admits, “But it’ll help.”

“It’s not-”

“I’ve had some time to work on things.” She passes her leader. “I've learned some new techniques.”

Ikora taps her fingers against her ears. It doesn’t sound like she’s underwater anymore, and the energy reserves she’d normally need to cast a rift feels replenished and overflowing. It hasn’t been a minute since she’s cast. Curious. This healing and empowerment is not standard for a Dawnblade's arsenal. And, of course, there was that strange thing Miyu had done when the whispers were having their way with her.

"You've studied the Sunsingers," She calls out.

"Some. The attunement is… different. It's more Dawnblade than anything."

Anything Miyu bad left to say stops when she stands just outside the encrusted archway. Where the Ascendant Plane was less, well, gross in the Dreaming City, the Hive gunk seemed to be thicker and more pungent here.

"Ikora."

The other Warlock strides to her side. "No," She whispers, dark fingers fanning over her mouth. "We're too late."

The three guardians are plastered to the wall, entombed in the paperish crust of Hive residue, their Ghosts as well. All the crust seems to come together in an almost flower-like bloom, coalescing on the crystal embedded in the floor in the center of the room.

The Awoken steps forward. Ikora grabs her wrist, stopping her as a weak voice groans, "Run," The Titan coughs, his helm shattered across the visor. His Ghost pulses above him on the wall, drained. "It's a trap."

"There's a ritual circle," Ikora juts her chin, indicating the floor. "You cannot go in there, Miyu. We have to-"

Miyu's eyes are like jagged diamonds, glinting in the shadows, her mouth curved down in a sharp snarl. Her shoulders draw up tight like the bow her Ghost so affectionately nicknamed her for, centuries ago. Fingernails eclipse her pale skin, drawing blood as she clenches her fists. She jerks herself free of Ikora's hand viciously, startling her Vanguard.

"No!" The Hunter cries, wheezing. Tentacle-like wisps have punctured her middle, her blood trickling slowly from the wound. They intend to make these Guardians suffer. "Please, leave us," She begs. "It's alright."

Miyu looks to Lilith. All but the Exo's face is completely crusted over, her breath coming fast and shallow beneath the gross brownish green ichar, her optics unfocused, metallic lips moving to form unintelligible words, though sound does not leave her vocalizer. She'd been the first, the Dawnblade realizes. Tamashii senses her Ghost's fading Light, barely a dull flicker. He urges caution, but he knows they cannot wait.

"Lilith asked me to come for you,” Miyu informs them, with the kind of grace she does not feel, her heart beating a frantic tattoo in her chest. “I won’t let you die here."

"All three Ghosts are nearly dead," Ophiuchus rumbles behind them. "They're sucking their Light into that crystal." It’s ugly and beautiful all at once, drawing the skeletal paper butterflies that swarm any and all Light in Hive-infested territory.

"We tried to free her," The Hunter spits blood as the Warlock comes closer. "They were waiting for us. The Hive knew we would come for her, and you for us. They're counting on-"

"Good," Miyu growls, stepping in further, paying no mind to the glowing glyphs of the circle illuminating green beneath her boots, or Ikora's concerned outcry behind her back. She lifts her hands. The temperature rises. Furiously, she snaps, voice crackling with the embers of her Light, "Let them come."

Acutely, Ikora realizes that she wishes Zavala were here beside her. Not because she needs him; No, she's convinced now more than ever that the two of them can handle things without issue.

It’s just that no feed, no Ghost recording could accurately capture the way this feels, the decadent warmth of this blazing, empowering Light.

It makes a ring around the arcane circle the Hive have etched into the floor, overpowering the eerie green color with white-gold. It crackles and pops with embers and sparks, staying low and controlled.

When the Warlock Vanguard sees the sword come to life, she knows. This is not like others, not like Osiris's unstoppable blade, not like a Hunter's knives. It is wide, the blade almost as wide as her head. It is not the sword the Dawnblades throw. It is a great sword, held firm in both of her hands.

It is a candle, Ikora realizes.

It is a candle that turns into a bonfire.

Miyu's vision, given form.

With an animal cry, the lithe woman thrusts it down into the crystal with superhuman force. The Hive come crawling from the depths of the shadows as it shatters beneath her feet and the Light is freed.

When they rush in to attack, the Hive burn in shades of orange and gold. Miyu does not watch them fall. Her eyes are on the curls of Hive encrustments, burning away within the manifestation of her might. It spurns Ikora into action, the brilliant light blinding their enemies and allowing her time to pry the Titan and Hunter out from their thorny vine-like restraints.

There is a piercing cry, and then a booming groan. Ikora eases the Hunter to the ground and pushes her flickering, reorienting Ghost into her hands, letting her cradle it close. "This is nothing like what Lilith did," She grits out, her insides mending fast. Ikora is already looking for the source of the next threat., though both Titan and Hunter are immediately on their feet.

Lilith is coughing, hyperventilating, clawing at the hands that attempt to free her from her prison, gurgling weakly and confused beyond recognizing her saviors. Miyu calls to her leader, concerned. "Ikora, we have to get her free."

The smallest of the three Warlocks swings the second one of her arms is free. Miyu takes Lilith’s elbow to the face, unflinchingly. She summons what appears to be a grenade and pushes it against the Exo's forehead. As Ikora rips back the entrapments covering Lilith's Ghost, Miyu holds her charge’s face, wordlessly willing her bright green optics to focus and clear. "You’re okay, Lillie. I’ve got you, you did well. Look at me."

She thrashes until it sinks in, but eventually stills, much like Ikora had, with the Divine Protection thrumming over her meshed skin, healing her body and mind. She reaches a hand for the top of Miyu’s breastplate, pushing her dirty face into the older Guardian’s armor, shaking as her recovering Ghost precariously takes flight, nudging her forehead before phasing into her.

Miyu staggers to her feet, hauling Lilith up with her. The Exo sighs and relaxes into the protective warmth, eyes closing, until she hears the shingk! of Miyu drawing her sword.

Except, it isn’t Miyu’s. Miyu is holding out her sword. The one she’d lost, what might be hours or days or minutes ago, in the haze of confusion and capture and torment. She shudders, but Miyu squeezes her shoulder when she takes the sword and drops to her starting stance despite it.

“Good girl.” That she doesn’t fight her teacher on being called ‘girl’ is a testament to how shaken she is. “Fit to fight?”

“Yeah,” She braves, still breathless, then realizes her surroundings more clearly. “Morgana! Bertie! Are you two-”

Morgana flips her a casual salute. “Right as rain.” She gestures around her. “Your, uh, teacher here kinda made your Well look like a puddle,” She jokes. Bertie nods, but remains silent beside her. Miyu’s piercing gaze is drilling into her side.

Right. Lilith looks at Miyu. She’s studying her intently, obviously understanding what the teasing Hunter meant. “I’ll tell you about it later,” She promises, and her teacher nods sagely.

Ikora turns away, the immediate threat to the Guardians thwarted, and sees the lumbering Ogre, kept shielded by what is most certainly an Omnighul behind it. Knights with their swords advance in front of them, and Thrall fill the gaps. "There are too many,” The Titan, Bertie, says, sounding wary. “We can't outrun them."

"Then we don’t." Miyu informs them. “Ikora?”

Regal, serene even, Ikora steps beside her. “I suspect this ability,” She looks to the side, dangerous golden eyes meeting Miyu’s quicksilver gaze, “Is just as empowering as it is healing?” She holds her hands out as if to feel the golden rift like it’s something tangible.

“You’d be correct,” Miyu agrees.

Ikora grins, and it’s positively feral. “Then allow me.”

She draws back her palms, summoning the slippery-quick Void between them. Leaping with feline grace, she launches a giant supernova of purple light that could dwarf a planet, the entropic pull of her power like atmospheric gravity.

It hits the first enemy in an act of annihilation - the Ogre explodes on impact in a shower of purple fury. The thralls scatter, confused and frightened, Ikora supposes they’re not as mindless as they appear considering her show of power. Even so, they’re doomed to fall to her overwhelming cataclysm.

Beside her, Miyu dips her head. The temperature around her rises once more. “Allow me to finish off the rest?”

“I want the Omnigul,” Ikora responds, her voice still beholden to an undercurrent of her terrifying power.

“I suppose that’s fair,” Miyu responds. “You three, cover us.”

“Do… do you even need it?” Comes the Hunter’s quiet response.

Ikora chuckles. “It will look good on the strike logs if you assist,” She answers, trying not to sound mocking. Like clockwork, she hears the sound of ammunition being loaded behind her.

Miyu snorts, drawing her sword. “You get that a lot, I bet.”

“I don’t get out that much anymore,” She answers, snidely. “But, yes. I did.”

“Huh.”

She tips her lips in something almost smirk-like, but a touch less menacing. “Shall we, Miyu?”

With a smile, Miyu nods. “Thanks for helping me charge up,” She quips, patting her intricate armor. Ikora rolls her eyes, but there’s a kind of mirth, something amused about it.

Where before it had been both, this time, Miyu raises a single hand. Her armor thrums with an exotic kind of energy, bolstering her Light. She’s ready. A more traditional Daybreak sword appears like a lightning strike in her grip, wings blooming from her back. Lilith hollers, half awed, half triumphant.

Miyu supposes they both owe each other a story, when they get back.

#destiny fanfiction #destiny stories #ikora rey #zavala x oc #oc: miyu #well of radiance #collection: phoenix protocol #miyu the sweet bean warlock #one more chapter and then the epilogue!#i can't believe we're finally here

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necrotortle-blog · 6 years

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Noxx the Necro Turtle Bio

This is the bio for Noxx, a Tortle Wizard specializing in Necromancy. I’m playing him currently in a D&D 5e game.

He is an emo goth teenage turtle person with feelings.

The tide comes in; the tide goes out. A school of young fish flit and jump across the waves; the whale’s corpse settles on the seabed and is slowly consumed by the organisms which it feeds. This is the ebb and flow of life, the constant pull and change of entropy, and it defines the life of Noxxx the Tortle.

Noxxx has always been a black sheep. He was the slowest of his clutch, the last break from his egg. His skin, cast in light shades of blue, green, and gray, was markedly different from his siblings and parents. Even his shell is unique, it’s relatively smooth black and gray surface has a reflective quality akin to a worn pebble washing upon the shores of his birthplace. And his eyes, white and colorless with only the smallest hint of a pupil are quite unlike the usually lively and wise eyes of his fellow Tortles.

He wasn’t outcast, however. Tortles embrace the exotic and the individual. But as Noxxx grew, it was clear that his differences were not just skin deep. He despised brightness, drew away from colorful and gaudy things. The Sun and Moon, two symbols of protection and spirituality to most Tortles, annoyed him. He felt most comfortable away from their presence. While his brothers and sisters explored nearby ports and collected tales from traders and fishermen of exotic foreign lands, Noxxx spent his time in sinkholes and caves, collecting forgotten artifacts and bits of bone. He was a loner, preferring to learn things for himself rather than from others, and while his family would be out playing in the waves, Noxxx usually hunched up in his father’s library, scouring forbidden tomes of ancient warlock knowledge. When his father discovered Noxxx’s penchant for these dark magicks, he was aghast and confronted Noxxx. “Do not make the same mistakes I did,” the former warlock would say. “Stick to the life of the fishertortle or merchanttortle!”

The heated fights between Noxxx and his father only served to strengthen his resolve. No one understood him. Everyone felt fake. He was alone and these weren’t his people, these frolicking flower-loving terrapins. And so, shortly before his 10th birthday, Noxxx planned his escape in a fit of adolescent rage. He ripped out pages from one of his father’s spellbooks, stealing a mix of low level spells, and took off. They’d never understand him. No one understands him. He doesn’t need anyone, anyway.

The next several years he spent travelling, mostly at night. He explored, preferring the dark dampness of caves, aquatic sinkholes, and the fringes of the Underdark, where he learned to avoid or placate it’s denizens all the while experimenting with his budding skill for necromancy. It was on one of these adventures that he met with a scholar from the Black Shade Cloister and found a kindred spirit. Soon he became a permanent part of their order where he spent sleepless hours pouring over their massive library and slowly learning the basics of Wizardry.

When he was 14, at the cusp of adulthood for a Tortle, he finally felt the call to return home. His brothers and sisters would be adults themselves soon, and they would be heading out into the world, leaving his parents behind to their quick deaths, as is the way with Tortles once their children are raised. But when he returned he found he was too late. Some disaster had befallen his tiny village, burning it to the ground. No one had even bothered to bury the corpses of his kin, which lay bleached and desolate atop the scorched sand.

Noxxx carries a lot of guilt hidden inside him because of this. Even after he buried his family with traditional Tortle funerary rites, his sadness and feeling of betrayal only grew. He isn’t even sure what he’s angry at: the Gods? Fate? His own stupid actions?

All the knows is that his path is now chosen, and it is among the dead. Where that path will lead is uncertain. Will he discover hidden knowledge buried away in places few dare to explore? Will he master his necromantic powers and find his calling within their secrets? He is uncertain, but just as the tide will always roll in and out, so must he continue, even if it is...in the darkness.

Noxxx’s Tortle nature is constantly at odds with his personality. He is a loner and tries to shun contact, but he secretly desires it. Tortles are very social creatures and Noxxx’s loneliness is a constant weight on him. He does find comfort in his studies and in the remains of long dead things, which feel as foreign to the world as he does. He likes to collect well-preserved skeletons of smaller animals, especially turtles, and eventually his player (ME) hopes to include these in his kit, tossing out dead turtles that he’ll animate and launch at his foes.

He isn’t religious, though he doesn’t actually hold any animosity towards the Gods. He just doesn’t see himself as being important to any of them. He generally dislikes “evil for the sake of evil,” and distrusts or downright loathes those who use dark magic and necromancy solely in the pursuit of power.

He can be quick to anger, though he expresses this in his own Tortle ways. When extremely flustered or upset, he hides away in his shell like a teen slamming the door to his room, and he can be very hard to coax out. He doesn’t cry...those are just raindrops on his cheek or something in his eye. Mind your own business, you don’t know him!

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julianspancakes · 7 years

Text

Kitty Fic Recommendations ➸ 1

So, I read a lot of fics and I wanted to share some (!) of them throughout my time here. The fics listed below can be old or fairly new, so this has no timeline. Neither an order of preference.

Part 2 Part 3

Behind Closed Doors by The Purple Warlock

Summary : Ty manages to get Kit out of his room and to get to know people better.

Understanding by The Purple Warlock

Summary : Kit and Ty think they understand themselves and their worlds, but life decides to shake everything up, meaning that they no longer understand what they used to. They need each other to work out where they need each other to ease their confusion. Friendships and relationships follow.

Pressure by writeyourheart100

Summary : (LOS SPOILERS!) Kit wanders into Ty’s room at night, feeling the need to fulfill an unspoken promise to Livvy.

The Lights of the Los Angeles Institute by mrsjulianblackthorn13

Summary : It starts out with Kit and Ty training together. Soon they realize their feelings for each other. This is my interpretation of how they would end up together. Events take place after Lady Midnight.

Quiet All Away by DAIrinchan

Summary : Kit does his best to hide from the Shadowhunters in their own Institute. Ty wants to meet him properly.

Mortal Melody by DAIrinchan

Summary : Drabble. Kit finds out what Ty’s been listening to.

Vast Formless Things by DAIrinchan

Summary : AU? Maybe? Drabble. Sometimes all you have is the people you care about.

Attack Bear by DAIrinchan

Summary : AU. Which is worse, a school shooting or a school bear attack? Warning: Flippant treatment of serious issues.

Pacified Psyche by DAIrinchan

Summary : The story of Ty and Kit’s first (and second) kiss. Posted for Autism Awareness Month in April.

Chemistry and Physics by teamfreewill82

Summary : He was suddenly the first person, in that way, that Ty could look at with true interest, wonderment. He’d never, ever experienced anything like it.

Closed Doors by shadowhunter167

Summary : Kit hasn’t come out if that room since he went in. He’s stubborn, but Ty knows he can wait him out.

See the World by Aaron Quinn

Summary : He didn’t talk like his family. Hell he didn’t even look people in the eyes. Well, that wasn’t entirely true; he looked into Kit’s eyes. Kit Rook. The one person he felt close to.. It was a sense of familiarity and recognition. It was something he didn’t know how to explain. Nonetheless, he knew one thing for sure and that was that he could see the world in Kit’s eyes.

Sadness and Stims by AAThanatos

Summary : Spoilers from LOS so if you haven’t read it skip this! Kit does his best to comfort Ty after tragedy strikes.

Grey Eyes by Storytelling Penguin

Summary : A tale of an unlikely friendship that grew into something more. Kit Rook and Ty Blackthorn.

Just Hold Me by the Beauty of Nightmares

Summary : (SPOILERS FOR LORD OF SHADOWS) Ty isn’t dealing well with his sister’s death, but maybe Kit knows a way he can help. Sad, kinda fluffy one-shot for Kitty.

The Stars Belong In Your Eyes by Malecislifee

Summary : Kit and Tiberius. Discovery of new feelings, adventure and romance and drama. All about Kit and Ty but not only that, Kit forms bonds with other characters, including Livvy.

Hurricane Boy by Malecislifee

Summary : KITxTY Fluff. It’s been a month and Ty is always sitting outside Kit’s door. One day he asks him inside and Ty seems to have found some comfort in this new boy. And Kit is trying to figure out what’s going on in his head, and he can’t help but find the Blackthorn boy very intriguing.

There Are Snowflakes In The Sky by Black Rose White Fire

Summary : Ty took a deep breath. “Okay. Well. If you don’t want a book, I understand that too. Sometimes I just want to listen to music. I don’t know what kind of music you like, but I was looking for songs that talked about people who stayed in their rooms, and other people who missed them and wanted them to come out.”

Too Much by teamfreewill82

Summary : Friends noticed these things about one another, sure, but they didn’t agonize over them in detail as the last thought before sleep.

True North by teamfreewill82

Summary : Traveling is harder to do when you have someone you don’t want to leave behind.

Hurt Hands and Salved Sandwiches by teamfreewill82

Summary : Kit supposed he could have refused to accept the offer, the way he had when Julian had suggesting healing him in the car. But he didn’t.

Bees, High School and Autism by 0010001

Summary : Ty is starting a new school and is worried that he isn’t going to make any friends and that he will get bullied. Luckily he has Livvy with him.

Challenge the Default by elliptical

Summary : "I’m not normal,“ Ty told him a month later, as the pair of them tried to catch frogs outside. He said it with the casual air of someone discussing the weather, or pointing out that a shoelace was untied.

Kit blinked. "Obviously,” he said.

Blues and Purples by tsukkisdinos

Summary : When Ty realises that he and his sister both like the same guy, things get complicated.

Kitty’s First Kiss by ShadowHunterOfArtemis

Summary : Just three different perspectives on Kit and Ty’s first kiss. Going into a battle is a perfect time for rash decisions, right?

Waltz Of The Flowers by Fandom_girl21

Summary : A bunch of firsts in Ty’s and Kit’s friendship/relationship.

Confessions ( Beginning Of Something Beautiful ) by darkartificies

Summary : Throughout the past month, he learned many things about Shadowhunters, but three things stood clear: One was that Mark and Emma were definitely in a relationship. Two was that he was getting pretty good at being a Shadowhunter, though he’d never admit it. And the third was Tiberius Blackthorn.

A World In Grey and Blue by TheRedKing

Summary : Soulmate AU where you can’t see the color of your soulmate’s eyes until you see them. or, the one where Kit can’t see grey until a pair of stormy eyes allow him to see the shining steel of the knife pressed against his throat.

Feels So Right by StarGirl06

Summary : Tiberius Blackthorn and Kit Rook have each been harboring some feelings for one another, but keeping them to themselves. Eventually, it has to all come bursting out.

“Ty didn’t laugh very often, and Kit had learned over the past few months of being at the Institute that his smiles needed to be cherished. Kit felt his heart warm at the sight of laughter in Ty’s normally stormy eyes.”

you make it easy by thankyouforexisting

Summary : Kit feels lost without the dark-haired shadowhunter beside him (and when had that happened, that he’d gotten used to his steady presence? He hasn’t even been here for a whole day!), but the girl bites her lip, “I was just joking,” she hesitates, and then turns a beaming smile at Kit, “I’m Livvy, Ty’s twin sister.” She goes on pointing around the table, “And those are Tavvy,” the smallest of them all, a quiet boy who seems to be clinging to - “Dru,” -a short girl who’s hugging him, “and that’s Perfect Diego, who’s a Centurion.”

‘Perfect Diego’ sighs, “Please, I beg you all, stop calling me that.”

Livvy laughs, “Right! Anyway, Kit, you’re welcome to sit down wherever you want and have breakfast; you’re one of us, now.”

“I’m not a Shadowhunter,” he grunts, but quietly, “I just want to eat.”

“Don’t we all,” Julian agrees easily.

something brewing between us by thankyouforexisting

Summary : “You know,” an amused voice says, and Ty freezes, slowly looking up to meet irresistible blue eyes, “I make my coffee hot, but you may just be hotter.”

From his left, there’s the sound of Livvy choking and dropping a spoon.

He flushes, gritting his teeth, “What would you like to order?”

“A cup of you, to go, please, no sugar, you’re sweet enough,” Kit smirks, and Livvy’s giggling now, not even trying to hide it, “And I would also appreciate if you stopped stalking my coffee shop. It just isn’t good to keep meeting like that.”

Ty narrows his eyes, “This war isn’t over until I say it’s over, you truant. One coffee, black like your soul, coming up.” // The Blackthorns have a coffee shop. There’s competition in town. Detective Ty is on the case.

How Beautiful by TheRedKing

Summary : Livvy grinned wide, and Kit was suddenly struck with how the smile of one twin could feel so different from that of the other. Livvy’s was bigger and brighter, but it just didn’t hold that spark that made his chest feel warm, and full of light. - Kit is now living at the Institute, begrudgingly training to become a Shadowhunter. He would have left already, but his father was dead, and he has no other place to go. His only solace was a dark haired boy who understands the troubles of being an outsider. Kit wasn’t even looking friendship with the Shadowhunters, but he thinks he may have found that and more.

not all of them are so bad by Nitonami

Summary : Kit definitely doesn’t want to be at the Institute, and he definitely didn’t want the Shadowhunter that stayed outside his door after everyone else had left…

…At first, anyway.

Always Back To You by Kitty_trash

Summary : Ty leaned forward, touching Kit’s hand. Kit’s eyes shot up, looking into Ty’s eyes. “Where do you go?” Ty asked under his breath. To you, always to you, Kit thought.

The Lovelace Bonds by benjaminrussell

Summary : Ty and Kit carry out a theft and watch a movie.

��This isn’t what it looks like!’ by MidnightMew

Summary : Just a pointless little kitty drabble.

Rain and Glass by MidnightMew

Summary : ( LOS- SPOILERS ) Those were simpler times. Times when his parents were still alive. Times when he had no idea that Mark and Helen were different from the rest of his siblings in any way apart from the fact they were older. Times when he didn’t know he was different either, when he still dreamed of the scholomance. Times when he still had his sister, when he still had Livvy.

A long awaited conversation by MidnightMew

Summary : Ty finally comes out.

A flame in the pitch black night by MidnightMew

Summary : Just a pointless little kitty drabble.

Snow Angels by keiththepaladin

Summary : In which Kit and Ty are in London and there is bickering and snowball fighting.

Ty and Kit’s First Kiss by olivemartini

Summary : Exactly what the title says.

Windows by olivemartini

Summary : Some people say that eyes are the window to the soul. And for once, Ty has to agree.

Apologies by olivemartini

Summary : Ty apologizes to Kit for holding a knife to his throat when they first meet.

Kit’s Explorations of the Institues, With the Help of Ty by olivemartini

From the Shadow Summary : Kit’s trying to leave his bedroom for the first time since he’s gotten to the Institute and realizes he has no clue where to go. Thankfully, Ty is there to help him.

Pancake Day Summary : It’s Pancake Day at the Blackthorns, and Kit doesn’t get the whole “family meal” thing.

The Weapons Room Summary : Kit picks out his weapon.

Training Summary : Kit and Ty in the training room. Kit learns how to throw knives.

On the Rooftop Summary : There’s not much left that scares Kit, but seeing Ty standing on the edge of the roof and staring down at the ground below has quickly skipped ahead on his list of terrible things.

Melting Wings Summary : Icarus got too close to things he wanted most in the world, and it killed him. Ty kind of knows how it felt.

Cuddling Summary : Ty doesn’t really know what to do, but Kit’s fallen asleep on his shoulder and no one’s here to watch, so he might as well just stay put.

Hypotheticals Summary : They sleep in the same room sometimes. Not together. Just… near each other. It’s easier that way.

Uncle Arthur Summary : Kit had never met Uncle Arthur, but he had gotten the gist of the situation from Ty’s uneasiness and Julian’s hushed explanations. And yet, despite all the whispered warnings, he still did not expect to come face to face with raving lunatic.-or-The story of how Kit saves Ty from Uncle Arthur.

#kitty #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #tda #the dark artifices #fanfic #fanfiction #lady midnight #lord of shadows #los spoilers #tiberius blackthorn #kit rook #christopher herondale #the lost herondale #julianspancakesficrecs #fic recs

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theinsomniacsdnd · 6 years

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Session 18: Reunions

Staring up at the horned man in front of her, Savana overcame her shock and apologized, saying that she meant no offense but had previous experience with the Fae. Tam Lin smiled and said he understood, and that was actually the reason he had come to see him, though he was not physically there, and passed his hand through the window to demonstrate. Savana began to flirt with him, which seemed to startle him, but he regained his composure and explained the reason for his visit.

He knew she had contracted to the Archfey Titania and wanted out, he had his own history with her and he believed they could help each other. He assured her that what he was proposing was simply not swapping one contract for another, but he could not say much else since there was a high chance they were being observed. If she was interested she should come to the Foloi Forest and contact the Fae Emissary, who would be able to bring her to him where they could speak in confidence. He could tell her that what he was proposing would be dangerous, so he suggested bringing powerful friends to help. In fact, he had heard that one of her former companions named Ireena Kolyana was staying in Comvos and had connections that could help her.

Savana agreed to come to him and he bid her adieu, his form fading as the luna moth flapped its wings a few times and then flew off into the moonlit night.

Several weeks later, Savana rode into Comvos through the West Gate and took in the City of Crossroads in all its glory. A single one of its ten District across the seven hills within its walls was larger than all of Vallaki, the largest settlement in Barovia, and she was inundated by sights, smells and sounds from all sides. She passed species she had never seen before, including Baltra Lizardfolk, Sorek and an odd humanoid elephant dressed in fine silks lumbered past her.

Following the address from Yevgeny’s letter, she found herself in the Temple District and in front of a two story wooden building flanked by rose bushes. She stepped inside and smelled baking bread and roasting meats, and across the dining room spotted a familiar, slightly greyer head sitting at a table tucking into a stew. She grinned and decided to sneak up on him, weaving her way through the crowd until she was right behind him and put her hands over her eyes with a “Guess who.” He jolted, startled, and his spoon clattered to the table as he turned around and asked Savana what the Hell she was doing there. She smiled and said always she knew she was his favorite, and then looked around at the rest of the surprised faces around the table.

Rolen introduced himself and she playfully flirted with him, joking about how all half-elves had telepathy with each other, and then turned to Tris and tried to convince her that she was half-drow. Salome looked grumpy as always and muttered “Hi” while Savana craned her neck to look up at No, who signed something at her. When she clearly didn’t understand he looked at Tris who translated his greeting as he reached into his bag and gave her an orange. She started eating it to No’s delight, while she glanced at Rix and saw that he was wolfing down food and had his mace buried in a roast turkey, and used it to tear it apart. He looked up briefly and said it was a pleasure to meet her. Impressed, Savana said she would write a song about him and how much he eats.

With introductions out of the way Yevgeny got back to business, mainly what in the Hell she was doing there. She briefly explained her pact to Titania and how she was looking to break it, and Rolen recognized her as a fellow Warlock and showed her his brand, saying he had pledged to The Raven Queen. Over his shoulder, Yevgeny made an obscene gesture to indicate he was trying to get with her in the Biblical sense as an oblivious Rolen tried to recall what he knew about Warlocks breaking their pacts. He didn’t know much, but he recalled that it was risky, and Savana simply replied with a smirk that “Risky” was her middle name, and No piped up to say that Risky was a weird middle name.

Rolen then turned back to Savana and asked where she was headed, and if she wanted company. Curious about their new guest, Salome asked where Savana was from, and she replied that she was a wonderful land called Barovia full of Dusk Elves, even passed out business cards. She explained it used to be a shitty place but they turned it around, Salome asked if it was single-handedly and Savana’s eye twitched a bit, but she shrugged it off and said were also trying to rename it but there was a lot of steps to do that. A lot of paperwork, you know, but they had successfully passed a ban on chaining children in basements. No added that he was cool with chains as long as everyone was willing, while Rolen looked at Yevgeny and remembered that he too was from Barovia and asked how he and Savana knew each other. For reasons known only to herself Savana decided to lie and said they were only passing acquaintances, and Yevgeny looked at her with a cocked eyebrow, wondering what he game was but deciding to see where she was going with it. Rolen, of course, believed her completely.

No then suggested that they go to see Ireena up at the Temple, and their group, now one more strong, departed from the Inn. No paused briefly at the rose bushes out front and gathered a few flowers for later, and as they walked up the Temple steps Tris turned to Savana excitedly and asked if she liked cats.Savana said yes, as long as they weren’t little girls, and let the statement hang there without elaboration. As they walked into the main hall no No picked up the smallest kitten he could find to pet it and Savana pulled out her lute to play some songs for them. A loud, baritone meow met her ears and she turned around to see the giant form of Nicodemus sauntering towards her. She meowed back and pet him, and he seemed pleased as No joined in on the pettings too. As this was happening Rix was sniffing the cats to get their various odors out of curiosity, and No tapped Rix on the shoulder and handed him a flower crown made out of roses. Rix put it on and thanked No, looking a little confused by this strange ritual, and No happily signed “Now you’re one of us!”

At the desk, Dimitrius spotted them and asked if they were looking for the boss, and if so she was out back in her quarters. As they made their way into the back courtyard Savana recognized the red horse grazing there, and went up and put out her hand. Little Boy lipped at and snorted as No went up to the door and knocked the “shave and a haircut, two bits” rhythm. A moment later Tamra opened the door and gently chided No that she was supposed to supply the “two bits” part, then looked at Savana and asked who she was. Again for reasons known only to herself Savana said she was just a traveling bard, while No happily said out loud “this is our friend Savana!”

From inside, Ireena’s voice called out to say she’d be out in a moment. Savana hung back, as if she was trying to hide, but since there wasn’t really any place to hide out in the open Ireena spotted her as soon as she stepped into the doorway, her eyes going wide as she saw Savana for the first time in almost ten years. Ireena ran out and hugged her with tears streaming down her face, and Savana tried to comfort her but saying she completely understood why she had left Barovia and was sorry she hadn’t written. Pulling back to look at her, a tearful Ireena asked what the hell she was apologizing for, because she was the one who had left without saying a word. It had broken her heart to do so, but she just couldn’t handle it anymore and thought she would go crazy if she stayed any longer. Savana reassured her that she held no ill feelings about it and that she was simply glad to see her again. Wiping away tears, Ireena introduced Savana to Tamra, explaining that she was her lover, and Tamra smiled and said this must be the famous Savana, who she had heard so much about. It was good to meet someone from Ireena’s, for lack of a better word, previous life, and Savana replied with a smile that she was glad to be able to meet someone from her current life. Ireena then frowned and asked how she even knew where she was, and looked accusingly at Yevgeny who just shrugged. Savana again lied and pretended to have just noticed Yevgeny but was thoroughly unconvincing.

As they caught up, Tris and Salome continued to pet the cats sunning themselves in the courtyard and Tris declared she was the Cat Master. Rix looked at the large red horse and noticed that he didn’t smell like a regular horse, and went up to him to investigate. Little Boy reached over and lipped at him, just as curious as he was, and No gave him a cabbage that he happily ate. Ireena then asked how she even knew she was there and looked at Yevgeny accusingly. He just shrugged and Savana again lied and pretended to just notice Yevgeny but was thoroughly unconvincing, and Yevgeny just glared at her.

Ireena, now suspicious, asked Savana if she had just come to see her. Savana started explaining about the forest but was vague, and Ireena’s eyes narrowed as she asked what she did this time. Savana said that she needed help to get out of her contract and Ireena agreed immediately, but after Savana revealed that she had been told to contact the Fae Emissary Ireena visibly cringed but still agreed to come. Savana asked why Ireena reacted that way and Ireena explained with the a sigh that the Fae Emissary was a fan of hers, and she had actually had to talk the girl out of taking an Oath of Vengeance because she wanted to be just like her but couldn’t think of anything she wanted to avenge. No overheard and suggested they all go together. The rest of the party agreed, Salome adding that she was down as long as it didn’t involve making deals with fae, and Savana assured them that it wasn’t like that at all, managing a convincing lie because she was Just That Good.

Later that day they loaded up and headed down the road to the Foloi Forest, after a day of travel passing the grave marker of the orc warchief they had helped bury the last time they came through. No left a silver on the marker and Rolen said a prayer to The Raven Queen. No looked at the distant Altan Mountains and sighed, saying that he missed Anan and hoped he was doing well.

After two days of travel they entered the Foloi Forest, and Savana craned her neck to look at the massive trees and the houses of Ariadne’s Rest tucked among the branches. As they walked to the Greenleafs’ house a skunky odor reached their noses as well as a loud “DUUUUUUDE!” and tottling towards them came Brennan, their perpetually baked Tortle friend from Lake Alcmene, with a second, twitcher Tortle in tow. He greeted them and said he was glad to see them again, since things had been going great in Lake Alcmene ever since Okilo and her two assistant golems started cleaning the place up. In fact, business was going so well that he was here to rebalance his chakras, and he’d even brought on his brother Coco to help with the bookkeeping. He gestured to the second Tortle, whose eye twitched noticeably as he muttered that he couldn’t relax because he had too much work to do. Just for fun, Rolen offered Brennan one of his mushrooms and he happily accepted, but as soon as he took it he began to hallucinate that his knife was turning into a snake and freaked out, trying to throw it away from him as he screamed for Okilo to come and kill it. Sighing, Ireena bopped him on the head and using her Lay on Hands ended the drug’s effect, and he sobered up instantly, declaring that was a bad trip and he should just stick to the weed. He said it had been great to see them again and walked off with Coco in tow so they could chill out a bit.

As the smell of smoke faded away, No heard a loud peeping behind him and turned to see four small ducklings running towards him. They stopped at his feet and peeped up insistently at him. Rix knelt down to investigate and quickly reassured the others that he had no intention to eat them, as No picked one up and asked where its mother was, noticing that it still had a bit of eggshell on its head. No tried to walk away from them, but they quickly followed him, and Tris suggested they had imprinted on him. Rolen said, completely deadpan, “congratulations, you are a father” and the bird-hating Warforged felt his heart grow three sizes as he saw how small and helpless they were. He immediately began thinking of names and Savana suggested One, Two Three and Five, and No picked One up to show to Salome and said he couldn’t hate this. Salome took one in her hands and began petting it secretly, while No said they reminded him of Holy Shitballs the Kenku in the Spyte of Darkness, who had gotten his name because after he popped out of his egg that was the first thing Kolero had said and the first thing he learned to mimic.

As everyone cooed over the ducks Rix looked around for medicinal herbs and found some St. John’s Wort, Tansy and Valerian, which he put into his pouch for later use.

As they reached the Greenleafs’ residence Ireena sighed and went up to the door, reluctantly knocking a few times. Minthe answered and greeted them, looking first at Rix and then Savana. They both introduced themselves and Savana complimented Minthe on her name. Minthe chuckled and thanked her, explaining it had been her mother’s favorite herb, and then asked what she could do for them. They explained they were looking for the fae emissary and Minthe went to fetch her daughter, and after a flurry of footsteps the large form of Meliae appeared in the doorway and clasped her hands together as she spotted Ireena, spouting off a long string of fangirling as Ireena stood there with a stoic expression, clearly having dealt with this before. Rix offered her a duckling in this trying time and she gratefully took it to pat as Meliae continued to prattle on about how awesome Ireena was and how awesome it was to see her again. Eventually she snapped out of her excitement and looked at the rest of them, seeing a few new faces.

Rix started to introduce himself and stared up at Meliae, asking if she was of Dragon descent. Meliae looked at her mother and said yes, though she had been adopted by the Greenleafs, and misinterpreted his stare and reached up to touch the flowering branches tied to her horns, asking if there were bees in there again. Rix just said it was an honor to meet her, and after a very long moment of awkward silence Savana cleared her throat and introduced herself and offered to sing her a song, and proceeded to do so to Meliae’s delight. Meliae then asked Savana why they needed her services as Fae Emissary, and Savana explained that she needed to go into the Feywild. Startled, Meliae asked why on earth she needed to do that since most of the time her job involved getting people out of the Feywild, not going into it, but Savana decided to be cagey and only give half-answers to her questions. With a sigh Ireena explained that she had made a pact with Titania, and Meliae, shocked, asked if she knew what she was doing because Tam Lin hated Titania. Savana explained Tam Lin himself had invited her here, and still puzzled, Meliae said she could guide them there and she had a good track record, since so far she had only lost two of a few dozen, though even those two were a bit murky since for all she knew they had only been turned into a plant or something.

Now with his ducks sitting on his head, No asked Minthe if they had seen any mother ducks around since they had found these little ones. She explained that earlier that morning she had actually found a mother duck out back who had been killed by a pine marten, and they had probably been attracted to him since their species grew up to have red and black plumage.

As they spoke about matters both Fae and avian Rix tapped Rolen on the shoulder and asked him what his mushrooms tasted like. Rolen did his best to describe it and handed on to Rix for his own use, but Rix instead took it and added it to his medicine pouch along with the ingredients he had gathered earlier, which he had brewed into a Vial of Musical Breath that made the user say everything in song as magic music followed them in the air. He turned to Minthe and asked if she had a saucepan he might borrow, then went to the hearth and boiled down the mushroom in some water which he added to the potion in order to spike it.

As the sun began to set, they began preparations for their trip into the Feywild and the dangers within.

#session summary

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angelavengedinspo-blog · 6 years

Text

Two days previously, Simon had showed up at the Institute, breathless and wide-eyed.

...

“Simon!” Clary had exclaimed. “I didn’t know you were in town.” Simon was a graduate of Shadowhunter Academy, Clary’s parabatai, and a Recruiter, a job created by the Consul to help replenish the diminished ranks of Shadowhunters. When likely candidates for Ascension were found, Simon would talk to them about what it meant to become a Shadowhunter after a mundane life. It was a job that often took him away from New York, which was its downside; in the plus column, Simon seemed to truly enjoy helping scared mundanes with the Sight feel like they weren’t alone. Not that Simon looked like a dependable voice of reassurance at the moment. He looked like a tornado had hit him. “I just proposed to Isabelle,” he announced. Beatriz screamed with excitement. Some of the students, fearing a demon attack, also screamed. One of them fell off a rafter and thumped to the ground on a training mat. Clary burst into happy tears and threw her arms around Simon. Jace lay down on the floor, arms thrown wide. “We’re going to be family,” he said glumly. “You and me, Simon, we’re going to be brothers. People will think we’re related.” “No one will think that,” Simon said, his voice muffled against Clary’s hair. “I’m so delighted for you, Simon,” Clary said. “You and Izzy will be so, so happy.” She turned and looked at Jace. “As for you, get up and congratulate Simon or I’ll pour all your expensive shampoo down the drain.” Jace bounced up, and he and Simon pounded each other on the back in a manly way, which Clary was pleased to feel she had engineered.

.....

“Did the proposal go well? Was it romantic? Did you surprise her? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were going to do it?” Clary smacked Simon on the arm. “Did you have roses? Izzy loves roses.” “It was on impulse,” Simon said. “An impulse proposal. We were on the Brooklyn Bridge. Izzy had just snipped the head off a Shax demon.” “Covered in ichor, she had never appeared to you more luminous?” said Jace. “Something like that,” said Simon. “That’s the most Shadowhunterish thing I’ve ever heard,” said Clary. “So, details? Did you get down on one knee?” “Shadowhunters don’t do that,” said Jace. “That’s a pity,” said Clary. “I love that part in movies.” “So why are you looking so wide-eyed?” Jace asked. “She said yes, didn’t she?” Simon raked his fingers through his hair. “She wants an engagement party.” “Open bar,” said Jace, who had developed an interest in mixology that Clary found amusing. “Definitely open bar.” “No, you don’t get it,” said Simon. “She wants it in two days.” “Um,” Clary said. “I can see why she’d be excited to share this with her friends and family, but surely it can wait a little longer...?” When Jace spoke, his voice was flat. “She wants to do it on Max’s birthday.” “Oh,” Clary had softly. Max, the smallest, the sweetest Lightwood, izzy and Alec’s little brother. He would be fourteen now, almost the same age as Tiberius and Livvy Blackthorn. She could understand entirely why Isabelle would want to have her engagement party at a time when it would feel most genuinely to her that Max was there. “Well, did you think of asking Magnus?” “Of course I did,” said Simon. “And he said he’d help if he could, but they have that whole situation with Rafael...” “Right,” Clary said. “So you want our help?” “I was hoping we could have it here,” Simon said. “In the Institute. And you could help me with a few things I don’t really understand?” Clary felt a growing sense of dread. The Institute had undergone major renovations recently; some were still ongoing. The ballroom that was hardly ever used was being turned into a second training room, and several floors were full of stacks of tiles and lumber. There was the music room, which was enormous, but packed with old cellos, pianos, and even an organ. “What kind of things?” Simon looked at her with big brown puppy eyes. “Flowers, catering, decorations.”

....

“And that was how Clary had come to be standing in the Institute’s music room, with Magnus’s sparkling icicles dripping down onto her green dress. Every once in a while Magnus would change it up a little, and illusory rose petals would blow through the room. Some of Maia’s werewolf pack had helped move the harp, the organ, and a smatter of other instruments into the adjoining empty room. (Its door was closed firmly now, half-obscured by a glamoured waterfall of tumbling butterflies.)

....

Beatriz’s students were standing in as waiters, carrying platters of canapés around the room - the canapés had been provided by Simon’s sister, who worked at a restaurant in Brooklyn, and the platters and cutlery were pewter, not silver, out of deference to werewolves present. Speaking of Downworlders, Maia was laughing in a corner of the room with her hand in Bat’s. She wore a floating orange dress, her curls piled on her head and her Praetor Lupus medallion gleaming at her brown throat.

-----

Jocelyn had gone off to one of the offices to have a long chat with Maryse Lightwood, Simon’s prospective mother-in-law. Clary couldn’t help but wonder if she was delivering the maternal speech about how the Lightwoods were lucky to have Simon in their family and they’d better not forget it. Julie Beauvale, Beatriz’s parabatai, passed by them, carrying a platter of tiny puff pastries. As Clary watched, Lily, the head of the New York vampire clan, snagged a pastry off the platter, winked at Bat and Maia, and sashayed over to the piano -- passing by Simon, who was making conversation with Isabelle’s father, Robert Lightwood - on her way. Simon wore a charcoal-gray suit and looked nervous enough to jump out of his skin. Jace was playing, his velvet blazer tossed over the back of his chair, his slim hands dancing over the piano keys. ..... They had been as surprised as anyone when the Conclave had voted them in as the new heads of the Institute when Maryse had left. They’d been only nineteen years old, and she supposed they’d assumed Alec or Isabelle would take over, but neither of them wanted it. Isabelle wanted to travel, and Alec was involved with the Downworlder-Shadowhunter Alliance he was building.

------

Magnus was seated on it, his son Max, a three-year-old warlock with navy-blue skin, curled up against his side. Also on the blanket was a five-year-old boy, this one a Shadowhunter, with tangled black hair, who reached for a book Magnus held out to him and gave the warlock a shy smile. Beatriz was suddenly at Clary’s side. “Where’s Isabelle?” she whispered. “She wants to make an entrance,” Clary whispered back. “She was waiting for everyone to get here. Why?” Beatriz gave her a meaningful look and cocked her head towards the door. A few seconds later, Clary was following her down the hall, the skirt of her dress hoisted up so she wouldn’t trip on the hem. She could see herself in the mirror along the corridor wall, her green dress the color of a flower stem.

.......

Beatriz led her into the dining room, which was full of flowers. Dutch tulips, Clary was pretty sure. They were piled on the chairs, on the table, on the sideboard. “These just got delivered,” Beatriz said in a dire tone, as if they were a dead body and not some local flora. “Okay, so what’s the problem?” Clary said. “Isabelle’s allergic to tulips,” said a voice from the shadows. Clary jumped. Alec Lightwood was seated in a chair at the far end of the table, wearing an untucked white shirt over black suit pants and holding a yellow tulip in one hand. He was busy plucking off the petals with his long fingers. “Beatriz, can I talk to Clary for a second?” .... “Why are you in here and not with the rest of the party?” “My mother told me the Consul might drop by,” he said darkly. Clary started. “And?” she said. It wasn’t as if Alec was a wanted criminal. “You know about Rafe, right?” he said. “I mean, all the details?” Clary hesitated. A few months previously, Alec had been sent to Buenos Aires to follow up on a set of vampire attacks. While there, he had come across a five-year-old Shadowhunter boy, a survivor of the decimation of the Buenos Aires Institute during the Dark War. HE and Magnus had Portaled back and forth from Argentina over and over, telling no one what they were doing, until one day they appeared in New York with a skinny, wide-eyed little boy and announced that they were adopting him. He would be their son, and Max’s brother. They named him Rafael Santiago Lightwood. “When I found Rafe, he was living on the street, starving.” Alec said. “Stealing food from mundanes, having nightmares because he had the Sight and could see monsters.” He bit his lip. “The thing is, they let us adopt Max because Max is a Downworlder.” “Nobody wanted him. Nobody cared. But Rafe is a Shadowhunter and Magnus - isn’t. I don’t know how the Council will feel about a Downworlder parenting a Nephiliim kid, especially when they’re desperate for new Shadowhunters.” “Alec,” Clary said firmly. “They won’t take Rafe away from you. We won’t let them.” “I won’t let them,” said Alec. “I’d kill them all first. But that would be awkward and ruin the party.”

----------------

“He’s really happy,” Rebecca said. “With his life, with Isabelle.”

#a long conversation.#quotes about isabelle.#re: simon.#re: max.#re: alec.#re: clary.#re: jace.#IMPORTANT*.

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